Wednesday, November 20 1963, 08:04 pm
I wasn't exactly in full control when I left the Southland Life Building. I barely remember getting off the elevator, or walking through the lobby. I think I ran into Five, I also think I went back to wait on the bench where I had left Klaus half an hour ago, feeling like an eternity. That I urged him not to ask any questions, and to hurry off to join the others and take the elevator in his turn. As if frozen in the paralysis of my thoughts, not even really realizing that I was seeing most of them again after so long. And I just stood there, staring blankly, for the twenty minutes or so I waited for them.
I chased away the haunting thought of the diagram Hargreeves showed me. My thoughts turned over and over his words, from his rather unsubtle encouragement to persevere with my interest in machines, to his certainty that - one day - we would 'collaborate'. With a lump in my throat, I thought back to the way he'd moved his pawns from the moment he realized what I was. How he adjusted his monocle to look right through me. With this satisfied look on his face, as if he were congratulating himself on the magnificent idea that his 'future self' had had in sending me here and now, into his own past. Alone on that bench, I shuddered at the thought of that 'feedback loop' he barely concealed, which his own children would be undergoing after me.
A terrible doubt arose in me. Did he wish for us to fail in preventing the 2019 Apocalypse? That our only way out would be to flee through a bend in space-time, with the past as only possible fallback point? Did he even orchestrate the first Apocalypse for this very purpose: so that he could assess whether we were suitable material? Even now that the minutes have passed, I could easily be having an anxiety attack. Because I came out of this 'light supper' with the very painful impression that this 'quality control' checkpoint was just a mid-term assessment. So what else is he waiting for, right ahead of us?
In this state of shock, I caught a glimpse of a long car parking down by the illuminated building, without really paying attention. I also realized that a woman with a Texas country look was also waiting a little further down the road, her eyes glued to the same doors as me. I think that seeing Viktor join her and leave with her is what snapped me back to myself, like a form of electroshock. That I managed to wave hazily to Allison, who was on her way home to join Ray. And that Klaus's moans as Luther dragged him out of the building by his ankle resumed my ability to move. I remember I asked what had happened to him, and he squealed that Ben had done an 'Emily Rose' to him.
We didn't go very far. We waited for Diego to finish talking at the window of the long car parked in the dark. Then we went to crash in the nearby park open onto the avenue, with for only dinner - finally - mustard hot dogs bought from a street stall. Klaus's is still on the concrete floor where he lies shapelessly, having not even tried to pull himself onto the bench. Luther has already eaten his own hot-dog in just three bites, standing up for the sake of space. And Diego is currently shouting his heart out at him.
I understand between the lines that their 'light supper' ended no better than mine, that Hargreeves had a fair amount of time to observe, evaluate and even humiliate them. I sigh. And in my dismay, fairly low compared to Diego's loudness, all I manage to say is:
"Eat, Klaus, can't you see you're low on sugar?"
"I'm not!", he whines back. "I'm soiled on the inside! And I feel pukey now."
"Come on. You've been eating leftovers from dumpsters for years."
"You don't understand..."
He shakes his head unsteadily - his cold sweats having turned his hair into an unmanageable tangle of curls - and he opens the collar of his shirt even wider, gasping for air.
"I feel like the drain of the bathtub after Luther's showers."
The latter doesn't notice a thing, and neither does Diego, who is busy ranting about how he was hoping for his support against their father, but hadn't found it, and that 'Team Zero' doesn't exist. My eyebrows furrow, for this is a very different dynamic from the unhealthy competition I used to witness between them. On the other hand, one thing hasn't changed at all: they still don't listen to Klaus, to whom I give a frowning gaze.
"When you say 'on the inside' you mean..."
And as Luther barks at Diego, "ZERO TIMES 2, OR 6, 7, OR AS MANY AS YOU WANT, THAT WILL ALWAYS EQUAL ZERO - at least I think so", Klaus points at Ben and finally squeaks pathetically with all the strength he has left:
"THIS ASSHOLE GOT INSIDE OF ME".
In the windy silence that instantly settles, a lady in a nice flared coat walks past us with her dalmatian, shortening the leash so that the dog doesn't approach us. I also glance at Ben, whose spectral energy is settled further away, under a tree, arms crossed as he stares at us. And I cross my arms while Klaus keeps rolling his eyes.
"I think we're all... tired and confused by what's just happened. We'd better... cool things off and take stock calmly..."
"I want a lavender bath," Klaus implores, and Luther steps aside.
"And I need to go for a run. I was against the idea of coming, tonight: I knew he'd try to turn us against each other."
My eyebrows raise in a sorry pinch as Luther removes his blue jacket and pulls down his pants, under which he wears a pair of running shorts. It's as if he'd anticipated that this encounter would go wrong and that he'd need to go and jogg his stress away.
He seems to me light years away from the Luther convinced he was Hargreeves's right hand man, much to Diego's annoyance. In 2019, he had already half-heartedly shared with me his feelings of having been ousted to the Moon, when he was literally giving his all for his father. Obviously, his resentment had time to grow even stronger. That's certainly healthy, and I'm not the one - tonight - who'd blame him. But he seems even more lost than his siblings now. He sets off down the park lane in short strides, passing the lady with the dog as she moves aside. Diego watches him in silence as Klaus groans against the leg of the bench.
"Do you want an aspirin?", I ask him.
"Yes, please... and Spirytus Vodka..."
96% alcohol by volume. I actually don't even have water, but he never needs it. I don't think I'll manage to get a coherent narrative of their 'light supper' from him in the state he's in. So instead I turn to Diego, who sits next to me as I hand his mop-of-a-brother a pill, which he grabs with great difficulty.
"Five was hoping to get some information from your father about the new Apocalypse he saw," I say rather low.
In the distance, under the streetlamps, Luther's outsized silhouette runs, struggling to forget everything. And Diego, trying to calm down, shakes his half-long hair. Klaus mentioned that he's only been here for three or four months: I wonder how his hair has grown so much.
"Dad doesn't know anything," he tells me. "Or he's ~deliberately~ not telling anything. He just started bullshitting us about how 'worlds are ending'. And how fucking normal it is."
He puffs ironically beneath his little moustache, then shrugs.
"He asked to speak to Five in private, and he's probably still at it. Who knows what will come of it. Maybe no more than about JFK."
I blink. I know there's proof that Reginald Hargreeves will be on the Grassy Knoll. Like half of Dallas, of course, but in connection with a secret society that Klaus couldn't properly tell me about. Diego seems convinced that the key to preventing the Apocalypse lies there, but his eyes have just glowed fiercely. He's always had this hero complex, but I fear he's on to something too big and dangerous for him, this time.
"What would happen, if you really were to save Kennedy, Diego?", I ask him.
Shit, now I'm analyzing causal chains myself. But what happened with Dave, and possibly with many of the 'Destiny's Children', sticks in my mind: I know we've changed far more than we should have, and I still don't know what the consequences might be for the future. So in the case of a pivotal event in history like Kennedy's assassination... I can't imagine. Diego shakes his head.
"Everything would progress faster, Rin," he says, finding - I think for the first time - a chance to express himself. "The struggle for civil rights, the space exploration, the de-escalation of the Cold War or Vietnam War..."
I can see Klaus's head moving, and his eyes trying in vain to look up at his brother, whose nostrils are flaring like those of a bull ready to charge. He, too, seems truly unstoppable, as does Luther, already on his second lap around the park.
"I hate talking like Five, you know," I say. "It's a desirable future you're describing. But just imagine all the paradoxes it might create."
And he rants:
"That's bullshit! I can save him. It would be criminal to do otherwise. And I have no problem acting like a lone wolf if no one is with me".
I shake my head.
"And - I - believe that an organization like the Commission Five was part of will do anything to prevent you from doing that, up to possibly killing you."
It annoys me to understand - deep down - why such an organization exists. But Diego leans toward me.
"Let them try. And I'll make that b-b-bastard of D-D-Dad pay for having humiliated me".
I get the impression that - all of a sudden - Diego's obsession with JFK has turned into therapy towards his father, after all those years of vying for his favor with Luther, who now runs backwards, sometimes stopping to do squats. Klaus reaches for the fabric of my pants, desperately enough to be sadly comical.
"I need to clean myself up inside, I need kombucha so bad..."
"Keechie will have made some again."
My opinion is that - whatever he does - he has to wait it out. And I'm trying not to pay attention to the fact that Ben has changed trees to lean on and has gradually moved closer. We'll be going home soon, but there's still something I want to discuss, and I run a hand over my eyes.
"Diego, during your encounter..."
My mind had wandered away from my own 'light supper', and to return to it brings up my anxiety all at once.
"... Has your father - in any way - tried to probe you about your powers... or evaluate them? He did that with me."
I'm very honest with him, and I stare back at him with the same eyes he has opened when talking about Kennedy. I can see him mentally gathering up all the jumbled memories of their brief time at the Tiki Lounge, and he finally says:
"He asked for 'evidence' when Five told him he'd be adopting 'special children' in the future. I had to at least throw a knife: he only believes what he sees through his damn monocle."
I suspect from his intonation that Hargreeves eventually got the 'evidence' he was looking for, and from everyone. I squint.
"Did Allison rumoured anyone?"
"Fuck, ask the bridge of my nose."
He shows a bruise on his face, with the expression of one who'll pay her back as soon as he can, as if they'd been eleven years old again. And he adds:
"Luther was topless. Viktor served us a nice fruit salad by clinking his glass. Five has... just 'blinked' as usual".
I look down at Klaus's shapeless body, as he stares at me with labrador eyes, because I've just realized that 'even he' has managed to prove what he can do, somehow. And then I glance at Diego again.
"Did he comment?"
"No. He said he'd seen enough."
My eyes narrow, because that sentence can mean anything and everything. I wonder what Hargreeves thought of this 'quality control': whether he considered them mediocre, or whether on the contrary he was satisfied with the demonstration. Whether - in his engineering approach - he decided he'd have to start all over again... or whether he was satisfied and would improve or even double his chances. I shudder with uncertainty, as Klaus squirmed and finally managed to sit up.
"No mantra is working anymore..." he whimpers. "AND YOU, GET THE FUCK AWAY".
I give Ben a disapproving look that Diego doesn't notice, and his spectral silhouette moves away again. I wonder why he's circling Klaus like that, as if he's about to jump on him. I hope he's not coveting the possibility of - once again - undertaking what I assume to have been a form of possession. But I sigh, and ask Diego:
"Did he give you any 'advice' whatsoever?"
Because he did give me adivce, in a way that I don't believe was for my own benefit but for his own. I'm intrigued by Hargreeves's 'advice', because I've come to realize that it says much more about his future plans than it seems.
"Advice...," Diego repeats. "I don't think so."
He leans against the back of the bench again, pushing Klaus's leg, who's still sitting on the floor. But suddenly he turns back to me.
"Oh yes. Yes, he did."
I look at him too, eager for him to carry on. And as Luther starts doing pull-ups, threatening to break the branch of a poor tree, he adds:
"He urged us again to 'band together'".
I'm serious now. I'm pretty convinced of the intrinsic value of our respective powers, growing with each passing year, forwards or backwards. But if there's one thing I also know, it's that Hargreeves's biggest failure to date has been his inability to get his 'Academy' to stand united. Even by the use of force. Even by illusorily tattooing on his children those umbrellas, such as the one on Klaus's arm, currently dipping into the ketchup of his forgotten hot dog. And once again, Diego lets out a breath of sarcasm.
"He wants a tight-knit and fucking efficient Academy working as a team... he can dream on. I had proof again tonight that it wasn't something to even hope for. T-t-team zero, my ass, really."
From the way he stammers his words, I understand that the 'lone wolf' happens to also have a deep desire to belong to 'Team Zero'.
"It's still time," I tell him as Luther comes back to us, now looking much more composed, and I think Diego's grudge has suddenly faded, too.
Me too, I often hoped to see them all more bonded, and in another way than what Luther was trying to impulse with his shitty leadership in 2019. Yes, I've wished for it, often painfully, witnessing the way no one cared about Klaus. I get up, I try to pull my curly package back on his feet without hurting my back, and Luther comes in for backup, just like Diego.
"We'll walk you home...", "...before we head back to Eliott's, they say almost in unison.
I thank them, I take a deep breath, happy that they've made up and are finally showing some support for their brother. And - once again - I'm disturbed to think that, perhaps, Reginald Hargreeves's advice was good.
Notes:
I wanted to give Diego some space in this chapter, because I think his point of view deserves to be heard. No matter how much he claims to be a lone wolf: deep down, he wants nothing more than to be part of Team Zero.
In each season, one of the siblings puts a lot of effort into bringing the Umbrella Academy together (Luther in season 1, Diego in season 2, Klaus and then Allison in season 3...), not always skilfully, always playing Reginald's game, but in a way that could benefit them all as well.
Rin is still thinking about Reginald's moves, and wonders about what he thought of the Umbrella Academy's 'quality control'. Do you think he will try to replace them, or conversely make them better... and double his chances?
Any comment will make my day