I sat beside Klaus as he attempted to knit, his irritation was spilling into my head so I laid my head on his bare shoulder and looked into Diego's mind. He didn't have a song playing in his head anymore, but he'd mimicked my method of building brick walls, I only had access to his current baseline: mildly panicked. "Hey, you've been in enough babushka heads, how do I start this thing?" Klaus asked, breaking my focus as we waved his needle in my face, the other stuck into his ball of yarn.
With a soft breath, I took the needle and unwound the black yarn, staring at the string a minute as I tapped into the photocopied memories my brain had endlessly stored. I tied a slip knot and slid it onto the needle, grabbing the other out of the yarn. Klaus scooted closer as he watched my hands, feeding me yarn as he held the ball. I walked him through the process and undid the row of stiches, leaving the last loop and handing the needles to him. "I'll show you the next step when you get there," I informed, resting my head back on his shoulder.
He was a lot less frustrated this go in, it helped that I was mentally guiding him through the movements. He had undone his own line several times, creating one he was proud of before handing the needles back to me, ready to learn how to continue. I went to accept them when there was a knock on the door, looking up as Five let himself in. "Hey, get up. We're going," he informed.
"Where?" Klaus questioned, resting the needles against his stomach.
"To save the world," Five answered with a dubious expression.
"Oh. Is that all? Great." Klaus sighed and moved his knitting paraphernalia into my lap, looking around his floor for clothes.
"So, Pogo said Dad killed himself to get us all back together, right?" Five started.
"Yeah, so?" I played along with a sigh of my own.
"So it got me thinking. I had to jump to the future to figure out when it happened. But Dad, he can't time travel," he stated obviously. "So how'd the crazy bastard actually know to kill himself a week before the end of the world?" I shrugged, moved the yarn, and unplugged the string of lights he hung above his bed, standing as Klaus pulled on socks.
"Well, you know," he began.
"Don't answer. That was purely rhetorical," Five quickly shot down, not having made his point. I patted Klaus' head and leaned against his dresser, eyes trained on Five. "Truth is, our whole lives, he's been telling us we'd save the world from an impending apocalypse."
"I thought he just said that to scare us into doing our chores," I grumbled, recalling the funky accent delivering the sense of doom.
"Me too," Klaus realized, but Five stepped in before we got too sidetracked.
"But what if the old man really knew it was going to happen?" he challenged.
"Yeah, but knew how?" Klaus grumbled, standing and picking up a shirt. He used to be so lanky, war really beefed him up.
"I have no idea," Five sighed. Klaus sniffed his shirt before he pulled it over his head as the midget continued. "But the fact remains his fakakta plan worked, we all came home. Since we're all here, we might as well save the world." His dark eyes shot up to mine, silently looking to see if I'd follow him, and I gave him a quick one shouldered shrug paired with a short nod.
"Oh yeah?" Klaus challenged. "What, like, the three of us?"
"Well, ideally, no, but," Five shrugged, leading us out of Klaus' room, "gotta work with what I've got." As we came up to Diego's door he was coming out, slinging a knife holster around his back and slipping knives in after it was secured.
"We need to go, where's Luther?" he informed, bringing life to the mild panic I felt earlier.
"Haven't seen him since breakfast," I shrugged, looking over him. "What's with the sudden urgency?"
"I would've done something about it last night, but you drugged me," Diego informed, sarcasm biting at his voice. "Allison's in danger, we need to go."
○
Even though it was my car, I'd let Diego drive; frankly, even with how much they despised each other, he knew where Luther would go better than any of us. I couldn't look for him as I had Five, I could only do so in that instance because his brain was extremely loud and obnoxiously obvious. The level of Luther's intellect hardly compared to Five's, at least on that scale, and once Luther put enough distance between us I couldn't feel his mind out.
Diego proved true to my point, finding Luther at an Irish pub within fifteen minutes. After Klaus confirmed our brother was inside we piled in, the miserable look Luther donned at breakfast had only gotten worse within the last two hours. "Trying a little hair of the dog, are we? Hm?" Klaus hummed, a teasing smile on his lips.
"Leave me alone," Luther grumbled. With a soft breath, I sat beside him and shooed my hand at Diego.
"C'mon, give them a minute," he sighed, leading Klaus and Five a short ways away. I put a hand on Luther's arm and gave him a sympathetic pat.
"Okay, maybe these loners will brood each other to death." I flipped Klaus off under the table, only knowing he saw it by the little giggle he gave.
"Dad was wrong for lying to you, to all of us," I started softly. On top of many other things he was wrong for.
"Look, I did my time, Ada," he grumbled, looking up from his beer mug and holding my eye. "Four years up there, watching and waiting, because he said the world needed me. Four years of nothing but soy paste and processed air because I was naive enough to believe dads don't lie to their kids. But guess what? Joke's on me." He brought the mug to his lips as I looked him over.
"I get it. I spent eleven of the thirteen years I was gone alone, all because I believed that our father had poisoned me beyond repair." Luther set down his mug and cut my words short.
"I'm done. With him, with you, with this family. You wanna save the world, you go right ahead. I'm fine to sit here and finish my beer and...get my...buzz on." I frowned as he brought the mug back to his lips, giving him a slow nod.
"You wanna turn your back on me, that's fine. Can't deny I've done the same to you all. The guys, sure, they're assholes. But Ali deserves better than that," I sighed, ready to pull the guilt card if that's what it took to get him up from this table.
"Allison? What're you talking about?" he grumbled, finally turning towards me again.
"Well," I breathed, standing and leaving a twenty on the table for his drinks, "we got ahold of Harold Jenkins' police file and Diego was dim enough to let her go on her own to visit Vanya's boyfriend, the convicted murderer." I shrugged, "Who would've saw that one coming? Just goes to show you it's hard to trust anyone who's head I can't get into."
Luther deadpanned a few seconds before scolding, "You should've led with that!" I didn't fight very hard to restrain my smile as he stood. "Jesus Christ, Ada!" I grinned and let him pass me, following behind him and joining the rest of my brothers as we exited the bar, Luther ripping the door off the hinges in his urgency. And through it all, one thought kept bouncing around my mind: applesauce penguins.
●
"Number Eight." I jumped but didn't move from my spot at Vanya's closed door. Dad told us she was sick, but that didn't explain why she wasn't here with us. I looked up and found Dad with an expectant stare, Mom standing not far behind him. "Come with us." As the old man started down the hall, Mom bent and reached for my hand, helping me up and guiding me behind him.
She kept holding my hand until we reached the elevator, dropping it upon receiving the disapproving stare of Dad. I didn't like how long the elevator went down for, grabbing onto Mom's skirt as I listened to the humming in her mind. I was slow following behind them when the doors opened, still holding onto Mom's skirt as I dragged my feet. "Don't dawdle, Number Eight."
I took a deep breath and hurried to catch up down the circular hall, going stock-still when the doors opened and Pogo stood beside a smaller metal doorway, holding open the door while Vanya sat silently inside. "Adelaide," she called softly when she saw me, a hint of happy about her but no where to be found on her face. I looked up to Dad and he nodded me forward. I was quicker now, sitting beside her and taking her hand.
Vanya was scared and sad, she didn't like being in here, and I couldn't say I blamed her. Take the memories from her, Number Eight. I froze and Vanya quickly took notice, rubbing my hands as I looked back to Dad. I'd never heard his voice in my head before, and he spoke clearly over Vanya's thoughts. Now, Number Eight. With one hand, I held tightly onto Vanya's, turning back to look at her before putting the other on the side of her head.
I knew what Dad wanted from me, I was getting a constant feed for once. He wanted me to take away the memories of her powers. "I'm sorry," I whispered, taking the memories out and swapping them with the most random phrase my four year old brain could generate, applesauce penguins. I slowly dropped my hand from her head, watching as her eyes glossed over.
My head turned at the hands on my shoulders, letting Mom guide me out, watching through my hair as Pogo closed and sealed the large metal door behind us. Through the glass, I could see Vanya laying down, her thoughts clouded. "Come along, Number Eight. You've only just started." Despite the disdain that it had clearly earned her, Mom took my hand each time we walked behind Dad, the humming in her head never stopped.
One by one, I went through and replaced everyone's memories of Vanya's powers, Allison, Luther, Diego, Ben, Five, Klaus, with applesauce penguins. It wasn't until Dad then led me to the bathroom and stood me before the mirror that I realized he wanted me to take the memories from myself, as well.
I frowned at my reflection for a few minutes, laying a hand over the side of my head and swapping Vanya's powers with applesauce penguins. Dad caught me when I stumbled off the stool, sending me into Mom's care for the night. My head was pounding, it took a lot of energy to remove things from eight separate minds. I didn't know what I took out, but I knew that the effort I'd used made me extremely tired.
After Mom sat me on my bed, she left and quickly returned with a glass of water, stirring it with a straw before handing it to me. "Drink up, Adelaide. This will help your head." I nodded and did as I was told, laying down once I'd finished and following the sound of Mom's mental humming through the house.
For the next few weeks, I went around chanting 'applesauce penguins,' making my siblings giggle all the same, but none of them understanding why I repeated it over and over, even I didn't know why. I just know that I had to get my point - applesauce penguins - across.
○
What do you know about applesauce penguins? I asked Diego as we walked up to the house, my nerves on edge. Night had fallen, it'd taken the remainder of the day to reach Jenkins' grandma's place.
Just that it was your favorite thing to say when we were younger, he answered as he turned to me, holding my hand as we stepped onto the porch. Why do you ask? I didn't answer as I stepped up to the window, waiting for the door to be kicked down before my wide eyes fell upon the body of our sister, laid in a puddle of her own blood as it pooled at the base of her neck.
There were quiet, unshapen thought processes coming off of Allison, causing my breath to stutter. She's alive. "S-she's alive," I shakily informed, hands over my mouth.
"Help me get her in the car!" Luther demanded, just as panicked as the rest of us. And all the while I carried another bloody body back to the safety of the Academy, there was only one thing in my head, more insistent, a thousand times louder, and impossible to ignore. APPLESAUCE PENGUINS.