Chapter Text
"Reginald Hargreeves was a great father and an extraordinary businessman, he picked me and my siblings from broken homes and taught us everything we know. It was heartbreaking to see him in his final days, so very different from the strong man we always knew him as. But all good things must end. Reginald Hargreeves... Rest in peace."
Five didn't expect to find out about the death of his father from a Twitter post. He raked his fingers through his hair, pulling on it slightly. A heavy breath escaped his nostrils as he looked at the nightlife below him from his penthouse windows.
The old bastard is really gone.
Emotions became overwhelming as Five's mind kept wondering. A sense of melancholy mixed with a faint sense of determination took over him as he sat down on the couch, letting his head fall backward. God, or whatever higher power there is out there, has given him the opportunity he waited for all those years away from home. An opportunity to find out what happened to her, his sweet and delicate Vanya.
After an exhausting night of restless sleep, Five finally got into his car, then started driving from New York back to his roots in that mansion he grew to hate. A feeling of doubt made him grip the steering wheel tightly, repeatedly tapping it with his fingers. It has been 15 years since he last stepped foot in that house, 15 years in which he lost all connections with his siblings and made no effort of ever renewing them.
He will be like a drop of oil in water- floating above them all, too aware that he will never manage to fit in. By this point, he wondered if it's even possible.
The sun was shining bright and nearly blinded him as he made the final turn towards the gate of the mansion. He was lucky to have brought his sunglasses since he was not at all expecting the swarm of reporters waiting right in front of the gate.
"It's a funeral, for Christ's sake..." Five found himself mumbling as all the reporters turned to look at him at once, the emptiness in their eyes temporarily filled with excitement and determination.
"Mr. Hargreeves!"
They all yelled in unison, surrounding his car as if they were all zombies in a movie, hungry for his take on it all.
Five should have known this would happen. The death of a multi-millionaire, the grieving family going back to their childhood home, and the one who turned on his late father for an unknown reason, at least for the rest of the world, anyway.
He could feel himself panicking before the gate opened, and with an impatient sigh, he nearly floored the gas penal, letting out a loud screech before speeding up, scaring the annoying reporters away as he drove ahead.
He always avoided talking about Reginald to the press and he sure as hell won't stop now.
Finally arriving at the front of the mansion, Five felt hesitation creeping in. As he leaned his head back to the seat, his hand moved towards his suit jacket's pocket and then took out a flask, the same one that almost burned through his pocket with its mere presence around him. He itched for it the whole drive, his courage juice. How will he meet the family he first handedly betrayed after 15 years without loosening up a bit first?
His nimble fingers quickly opened the cap, and the flask was already over his lips. He took one swing, then another, then a smaller one just to make sure. He didn't quite know if the whiskey would help his beating heart or not, but he sure did hope so.
After letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, he finally stepped out of the car.
Walking towards the wooden front doors, Five could feel his legs shaking slightly, and slapped one of his thighs so it would stop, but it only made it worse. Cursing under his breath, he knocked on the door. He wasn't quite sure about who would open, not quite sure who's still around.
The sound of heels walking towards the door made him feel strange. He's not foreign to the sound, every woman in his workspace must wear them according to the dress code, but that specific sound almost felt... Nostalgic.
The door slowly opened, revealing the cause to the nostalgic feeling that came washing over him like a wave.
Her blue eyes shined bright from the beaming sun, her eyebrows were joined in utter surprise as her mouth fell slightly opened at the sight of him.
Oh, how he missed that.
"Hello, Grace."
She let out a sigh of relief before coming in for a crushing hug, one which Five gladly accepted. He might've been mad at Reginald when he left, but he always had a warm spot for the others. If it wasn't for Reginald and his secrets, this whole thing wouldn't have happened.
She broke the hug and looked at him with a sad smile as if acknowledging without using any words the fact that his father had to die for him to come back and see them. "How are you these days, Five?" She asked him, her voice as pleasant as always. He took his time to look at her better. Her face and body remained nearly the same, except for a few small wrinkles forming on her face, showing the passage of time. She wore a black dress, one that seems like it came straight out of the 1950s, forever her signature style.
"Doing alright. Business is good." He replied with a small smile, simply happy to be in her presence again.
"Let's get inside. Everybody arrived sometime last night." She said as she stepped back inside, and Five followed right behind her. He only took one step in, but he already had to stop in his tracks and look around.
The house looked nothing like it used to.
The warm, brown wood that decorated the front entrance, along with the red walls, were replaced with white walls and Birchwoods. The floors were changed from their normal black and white squares to white marble. The old, black chandelier hanging from the ceiling was changed to one littered with diamonds, glowing in a colder white light instead of the warm yellow.
The new interior did not help his feeling of alienation in the slightest, feeling even more like a stranger to the house than he already felt.
"C'mon, they're in the dining hall," Grace said as she pulled him out of the state of shock he was in. His heartbeat sped up as he followed her. She arrived at the entrance before him, and so he thankfully took advantage of the situation and stayed out of sight. Just a few moments before all hell breaks loose, that's all he wanted.
"Who was it?" A woman's voice asked, unmistakably Allison's. Grace didn't reply, only looked towards him with a nod directed towards the dining hall, signaling him to come closer. He shook his head, mentally lecturing himself. True, he pretty much lost all contact he had with them, but they weren't the reason he left- Reginald was.
He walked towards the entrance, then looked at the people he hasn't seen since 15 years ago.
Luther and Allison were sitting next to each other, with Klaus and Ben sitting on the couch in front of them as Diego stood behind the armchair between the couches. They all looked at him with shock, taken aback by the sight of him. Frankly, he would look at himself just the same way.
The first one to speak was Luther.
"What is he doing here?" He was talking to Grace yet he kept looking straight at Five, the venom in his voice only made it worse. The rest kept looking at him in shock, but he could see it was also something else as he looked at Diego as his eyes rolled back or at Ben that had his eyebrows slightly turned toward, as if he had really missed him.
Grace didn't answer yet, probably because she's just as confused as the rest of them, so with a sigh, Five took the initiative.
"Hello Luther, working out I see..." He said in his old manner of cockiness. He didn't want to give them another reason to be angry, but he just couldn't help it. Luther quickly got up from his seat then marched towards him, and unlike the others that seemed worried, Five was a little better with hiding his own, still keeping that grin on his face.
"Dad has nothing to give you, he took your name out of the will the moment you left."
Five scoffed at that.
How could he forget, it's all about money in this family.
"You think I care about his money? I've worked my ass off and made my own fortune, I don't need his." Five said, the slightest smirk gone from his face.
"So then what are you doing here?" Allison asked as she rose from the couch she was sitting on, always the most loyal to Luther. Five knew they would like an explanation, but how can he find the words to explain when he has no idea. Looking deeper into his mind, Five tried his luck.
"I came because... Because I missed you guys. All of you. In the last 15 years, I was so preoccupied with making a name for myself that I didn't mind that I didn't keep in touch with all of you, but I've grown since then. Now that I got what I wanted I have nothing to distract me from what happened."
"Well maybe you deserve it," Luther said with a smirk, amusement completely gone from his tone, almost as if he wanted Five to suffer- frankly that doesn't surprise Five in the slightest. "If that's what it took for you to see what a piece of shit you were to dad-"
Five couldn't help but scoff yet again.
"I was a piece of shit- to dad?! I-" Five couldn't even speak. He held himself back from punching Luther right across the face with a couple of deep breaths. Lashing out at him when all he wants is to make amends with them would not be a great idea. He knew they won't understand the real reason to him leaving, they won't see it beyond their corrupted mindsets.
"I never wanted to get away from all of you, I just couldn't stand being around dad anymore or work for him...I couldn't even bear to look at him..." Five stared into space with a glowering expression on his face, missing to notice the confused looks of the others that still couldn't find the reasoning in his words.
"Wait, so you can't stand the man but you came to commemorate him at his funeral? Where's the logic in that." Diego asked after being quiet this entire time.
Five could tell that's bullshit.
They all had a reason to hate dad- whether it's the way he talked down to Diego when he stuttered or the way he never forgave Klaus for coming out publicly- they were almost as bad as him, only they didn't have the guts to leave.
"Well, Diego...the logic is that in his funeral, he can no longer piss me off." Five said with a smug look as he walked towards the bar, the peeved looks on the other's faces followed him as he went.
They watched as he put three ice cubes in a glass then poured whiskey inside. He turned around to face them with a smirk on his face then raised his glass to the air.
"Here's to new beginnings." He said with a smirk before Downing the glass in one go.
Looking back up at the others, he earned back eye rolls and facepalms, even a flashing of teeth from Luther.
But despite all of that...he was still happy.
About half an hour later, Five found himself looking through the big window just above the first staircase. The scenery of the white sand and the blue sea, mixed with the green cliffs surrounding it has always made Five anxious. This is his first time being so close to the ocean since the last time he was here, and despite his old man being gone- he's still hating this.
He watched his siblings as they walked down the path leading to the beach. They discussed the matter beforehand and concluded that this would be a nice way to do it, yet Five couldn't help but scoff for the 100the time since he got here at the thought that he has never seen his father near the ocean. The only attachment he has to it is the fact that he arrived at the states by ship but apart from that, he knew to keep his distance.
As he started losing his interest in the funeral happening on the beach, Five's eyes wandered towards another staircase, the one that leads to their old bedrooms.
He took the staircase, feeling somewhat anxious. Once he finally got there he stood still, feeling a wave of nostalgia going through him.
Memories from his past came rushing back.
How they liked to jump on their squeaky beds, how playing hide and seek in a house as big as this was always an adventure, how they all got drunk for the first time in Klaus's room and got caught by Grace that told them it's going to be "their little secret"...thinking back on the last memory, it was one of the last memories he had with her before she went missing.
He stood in the middle of the floor, where everything looked just like downstairs- unfamiliar. The shape remained the same, he could still tell which room belonged to each of them with his eyes closed, but it looked nothing like it used to, too modern for his taste.
It made him even more anxious when he peeked inside their rooms: modern beds, modern flooring, and walls, furniture that's probably from IKEA with weird names... They were beautiful yet empty, vacant of memories.
He walked towards his room, opening the squeaky door slowly to reveal nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
No modern beds, no IKEA furniture- but also nothing from when he used to live here.
He scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head as he walked further into his room. Yet he knew he couldn't expect anything else from Reginald "sweep it under the rug" Hargreeves. He never could face anything straight ahead, always chose to let others go through it for him.
That coward.
Standing in his room, it felt like what he would imagine a phantom pain would feel like. Everything was gone, yet he could still sense everything that was here before as if it's still here- the same number of steps he has to walk from where he's standing to where his bed was is like second nature to him, and when looking at the walls, white square shapes remind him of the photos he used to look at and the posters he had.
A sudden feeling of sadness came to him once again. No matter what Five did, the old man had no right taking away his memories, his childhood. Five made a 180 and stormed out, feeling nearly suffocated just by being inside the room. He closed the door with a bang, letting out a huff. He looked at the ground and rubbed his face, a lousy attempt to shake away the awful feeling he felt, and once he looked up he found himself right in front of the smallest room of them all- Vanya's.
He hasn't visited this room since she went missing, he couldn't even if he wanted to after Reginald made sure no one would be able to.
He tried to open the door, yet he couldn't. The door was locked as if fate was telling him that now was not the time to reminisce about her, but a small shelf with a flower pot on top of it caught his attention. Hesitantly, he lifted the pot, revealing a small silver key.
"Gotcha." He whispered as he took it, then used it on the lock. Once he heard a soft click, he gave the door a little push.
Her room was the smallest, yet had the biggest windows out of all of them. Five looked down at his shoes, shining bright with the light beam that took over the entire room. Looking up, his breath got caught in his throat.
Everything was the same.
Same bed, same closet, same brown violin... Nothing has been moved or altered.
It was like out of this room time kept going normally but inside... It simply stopped. He walked towards the small bed and sat down, making the springs come to life with a squeak. Looking outside the window, a small smile made it's way to his face. She always had the best view-she could see the sea perfectly from here, her favorite thing ever, even if she's never been down to the beach.
The sun was starting to blind him, so he moved his eyes sideways, landing on the end table next to the bed. He was suddenly reminded of the many times that he entered her room right when she closed the end table's drawer, looking fairly suspicious.
He lifted an eyebrow as he opened the drawer, finding a pile of scribbled papers, a couple of pencils, and most importantly of all-a small brown notebook.
Five picked it up and gave it a closer look. Just like everything in this room, a thin layer of dust came off on his fingertips as he touched it. The cover was made of brown leather, and when looking at the papers, it was clear that the diary was old from the yellow-ish color of the pages.
A bad feeling came over him. Is he really thinking about going through Vanya's secret diary?
With a sigh of despair, his hand went limp. He shouldn't. It's wrong.
But it's right here, on plain sight. Looking down at the diary that's still in his hand, Five knew he would hate himself for going through her personal belongings, but he would hate himself more if he won't.
Reluctantly, Five opened the diary on the first page.
The handwriting is messy, and the date written at the top of the page helped him understand why. Vanya was 8 years old when she started writing in this diary.
Remembering everything that she went through at that age, Five started reading the first page with a frown on his face.
August 8th, 1997
Dear diary, the pain in my legs never goes away.