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❛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘ. ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚  ▎❛ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘs ɪᴠ ꒱


❝ THEY WILL REMEMBER 
NUMBER SIX'S PASSING,
BUT ONLY AS A TRAGIC
 ACCIDENT— NOTHING MORE ❞

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September 2002

Unlike his siblings— except, perhaps, Klaus— Ben never took pride in his powers. They turned him into an actual monster whenever he summoned the Eldritch tentacles from their portal in his stomach. Despite his father's efforts, they wouldn't listen to him except when he called them forth. Then, they took on a mind of their own and lashed out at their targets with deadly accuracy. They had no care for clean, neat kills, causing him to be sprayed in blood every time he used them. The iron stench filled his nose and caused his stomach (the part without the portal) to turn and knot with nausea.

Of course, he could not express his distaste for killing to anyone in the house, especially not his father. Reginald would call him weak and remind him of his duty to the world. Luther, Diego and Five wouldn't understand; they all had their own reasons to enjoy (or at least tolerate) the job. Allison practically abused her power with how much she relished it. He'd broached the subject to Klaus a few times, but his brother had just turned it into a joke— no doubt trying to comfort him, but not really getting how he felt, either. His seventh sibling wasn't an option, either; while he was the most empathetic and willing to listen, he'd never had to kill anyone.

That left Alexa who. . . might understand. She was as equally nonviolent as Viktor, but had experienced missions like him. She didn't take as much pleasure in her abilities as their sister did, but she also wasn't adverse to them. The one catch was that she was flighty; it was hard to pin her down and get her to have a serious conversation, particularly when Five was nearby.

He knew the course of action most of his siblings would've taken was to suck it up and get on with it, but he couldn't rid himself of the sticky feeling that clung to his skin, no matter how many times he scrubbed his hands raw. This was only their first mission. He thought about the bleak prospect of enduring more— too many to count— for the rest of his life. His thoughts twisted in the images of what his powers had done. No one else felt the way his powers left him hollow and sick; they only saw his abilities as impressive, a weapon to wield.

Ben stared out his bedroom window, watching the rain pour from dark gray skies. He considered going out there and letting the cold droplets soak him to the bone— but even that wouldn't be enough to make him feel clean again. Then, he saw a lone figure (made more visible by the large, black umbrella they carried) step into the downpour and make their way— it was then that he saw she had blonde hair— to the gazebo. Once there, she closed her umbrella and took a seat on the bench, surprisingly alone. He waited for Five to come out and join her (they thought they were subtle but everyone knew that there was something between them), but no one followed.

Feeling the sudden urge to get out of the stifling house, he turned away from the window and silently made his way outside. As Ben stepped out into the rain, it hammered down around him, drowning out everything else. He could barely hear his own thoughts over the thrumming of raindrops, which was exactly what he wanted. The walk to the gazebo was short but left his clothes clinging to him and the damp chill ran deep.

When he reached the shelter, he shook off some of the water as he drew her attention, quietly asking, "mind if I sit?"

Alexa was sitting with her hands folded neatly on her lap, shoulders relaxed, though her gaze was distant as she watched the sheets of rain pour around them. She turned at the question, startled for a moment, before she smiled. She patted the seat next to her without a word, then resumed her position. He settled himself next to her, noticing how unusually still she was for someone who often was a bundle of energy. He wondered if the mission was affecting her, too. They'd killed people before today, of course; Reginald would have never let them go out into the field unprepared, but the stakes were different this time, it felt real this time.

They sat in a companionable silence for a little while, but the blonde— even when being thoughtful— couldn't contain herself for long. "I thought it would be. . ."

"Different?" he offered, earning a nod from her. "Yeah."

"Do you think they really see us as heroes?" she wondered. "I mean, we saved lives today. But not everyone's. We still killed people. A hero isn't supposed to kill people."

His hands clenched in his lap to hide their trembling— and not from the cold. If he stared at them hard enough, he could see the crusted blood still on his skin. "They see you as a hero. They don't look at me that way."

Alexa's brow furrowed at his words, and she tilted her head, studying him. "That's not how I see you, Ben. Or how the others do. We're all stuck in this together, right? We didn't get a say in any of it." Her expression hardened to an uncharacteristic sneer, a look he'd more readily find on Five's face. "You're not the monster. Dad is. He's the one who's not giving a choice. He's the one who's determining how the rest of the world sees us. He doesn't care if the pressure he's putting on us is too much to bear. That's when we have to remember we're more than what he's turned us into."

The brunet listened to the fierceness in her voice, paired with an underlying note of guilt. His sister was always so collected— they all were— but he began, for the first time, to wonder if her role wasn't any easier than his. He thought about how he'd feel if their positions were reversed, having to protect their siblings from a man who constantly put them in danger and didn't take advice from anyone. He wondered if Alexa felt like Sisyphus, constantly pushing the rock up the hill only to have it roll back down and crush her any time she attempted to make a stand.

The thought struck him sharply. He knew their siblings wrote her off as someone unpredictable, a dreamer who lived with her head in the clouds. If they didn't resent her for having created her own form of escape, they viewed her as weak at best. She never joined in their arguments, often attempting to diffuse them before they got too heated. She stayed on the sidelines during their battles so as to more easily defend them, never getting into the thick of things. But he began to think that maybe they were underestimating her, and Five had been the first one to see that. His most callous brother wouldn't entertain the company of just anyone; they had to have something that made them more. He started to see now what it was, how she carried her own burden without complaint, like a constant storm she'd learned to live within. Ben wished that he could do the same with as much grace as she seemed to have, but he didn't think the writhing, vengeful tentacles would ever let him.

"Thanks. I think—" he hesitated, but she looked at him, patient and ready to listen. "I think I needed to hear that."

Alexa just smiled, a tired but kind smile that was somehow both comforting and strong. She laid a hand on his, quiet and steady, letting him feel the weight of her unspoken support. "I'm here for you. No matter what Dad says, no matter what anyone thinks you should be. You're my brother, Ben. That's all that matters to me."

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

November 2005

Everyone knew Five had a temper, even those who were his favorite (Alexa.) He lost patience with people who he deemed idiots (pretty much all of them) and hated being told what to do. If he got into a fight with one of his siblings, he would be the first to call it quits and stomp off, not because he was mature enough to be the bigger person but because he took the win for himself. The person he argued the most with was their father, whom he felt was restricting his ability for greatness. It was only a matter of time before he snapped, and snap he did. The only surprise was where.

Five was never one for a public scene; he was probably the most private of all the siblings. So, it was— initially, at least— an unexpected form of entertainment when he stabbed his knife into the dining table to get their father's attention. But, as their conversation escalated and eventually led to Five running away, the siblings became divided on how to react. Most of them were glad he was gone (again, at first, since they didn't think it would be for long) because of how much of an overbearing, self-righteous prick he was. This wasn't the case for Viktor, Ben and Alexa, whom he had been closest to.

They'd been dismissed from dinner and sent to their rooms, their father uncaring of whether or not they were actually finished eating. After he'd checked in to see how his seventh sibling was responding to the evening's events (as well as could be expected), he stopped by Klaus' room before continuing to Alexa's.

His brother was still rolling the joint he'd been making at dinner— now a nervous habit— but he looked up at as he felt Ben watching him. Klaus gave him a devil-may-care smile, seemingly entirely unaffected by the whole ordeal. "What's up, Ben-er-ino?"

He grimaced at the nickname but knew better than to tell him off (Klaus would get pouty and whiny until he conceded.) Ben crossed his arms, trying to keep his tone neutral. "What's up is that Alexa's in her room, probably falling apart, and you're sitting here getting high."

Klaus shrugged, flicking his gaze down to the half-rolled joint. "Look, Ben, people fall apart all the time. She'll bounce back. She's, uh. . . resilient. Like me."

"You really think she's like you?" Ben shook his head. "She's been the one looking out for us— every time things fell apart, every time Dad came down on us, she always shielded us. Five leaving. . . It's different for her. They were each other's anchor. I think she might need someone this time."

Klaus sighed, looking down at his half-rolled joint as though it could somehow provide the answer. He didn't like thinking about things getting heavy or serious. But Ben was right— she was probably alone, feeling the absence of Five in a way none of them could fully understand.

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes but shoving the joint aside. "Let's go protect the protector."

When they got to her room, they stopped just outside of it for a moment as Ben instructed his brother, "follow my lead."

Luckily Klaus was better at taking orders than some of his siblings (when he felt like it) and did so without protest. Ben opened the door a crack to see their sister pacing her room, glancing at her clock on each pass. Her blonde hair was frazzled from how many times she'd run her fingers through it and, when she turned at the sound of their arrival, they saw that her eyes were red and puffy from crying. No one said anything as her brothers entered her room without her permission. Doing as his brother instructed, Klaus watched as Ben took the girl's hand and lead her over to the bed. The fourth Hargreeves did the same on her other side, doing his best not to fidget as he was prone to.

Alexa sat between them, her shoulders still tense but allowing herself to lean slightly into their presence. The silence settled heavily around them, broken only by the occasional sniffle from her as she blinked away fresh tears. Ben exchanged a glance with Klaus, both unsure how to start, so they settled for quiet companionship, understanding that sometimes words weren't necessary. The three of them stayed like that, leaning against one another, finding solace in their shared silence, each lost in their own thoughts and, for Alexa, fears about Five's departure. After all, it was always said that the first hour is the worst.

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

October 2006

By the time they were teenagers, everyone in the Academy knew they had a limited amount of time to get ready when the mission alarm started blaring. Whether they obeyed the command was another matter entirely, most of them fitting the stereotype of strong-willed, rebellious teenagers— at least, as far as their father's tight grip allowed them to be. Alexa knew that Luther relied on her to help him set a good example. When she'd been younger— before Five had disappeared— she'd taken great pride in the role. Now, the importance of it had faded, but the Pavlovian response remained.

She was usually one of the first to be ready, as she was this time, too. Using her extra time as she pleased while Luther corralled their other siblings, she went to Ben's room, where he was predictably not ready. Ever since the aftermath of their first mission, she'd taken extra care to see how he was feeling before each consecutive one. As they'd gotten older, he resisted joining them more and more, though their father's will overruled any personal feelings he had. Still, he never gave up fighting in the hopes of one day being exempt from them.

The blonde perched herself in the small space he'd left for her next to him on the narrow bed. He didn't glance up from his book, but they both knew he was aware of her presence. Her blue eyes watched him intently, impatiently waiting for him to give her the attention she typically had to annoy out of him. When it became clear that he was going to keep ignoring her, she poked him lightly in the side. "What's the plan this time?"

"Vanya's going to take my place," he answered. As if on cue, their sibling entered the room, as prepared as the others were supposed to be.

Alexa frowned at this development, her eyes following the seventh Hargreeves as he picked up Ben's mask and tried it on, studying himself in the mirror. "But Vanya doesn't have powers. You know dad would never go for that; it's an even worse idea than when you tried to convince him you had food poisoning— he knows we all eat the same food!"

"I'm ready," Viktor declared firmly. "Besides, you'll be there to protect me."

Neither of her siblings noticed the effect Viktor's words had on her as she shrank a little into herself. Over the years, she had become less confident in her abilities to be able to protect everyone as the Academy began to fall apart. It wasn't particularly noticeable at this age, but when compared to their early years, the cracks had certainly grown wider. From Five's departure to every time one of her siblings got hurt on a mission when she hadn't been in the right place at the right time, Alexa's self-assurance had taken a serious decline. Now, with the added weight of protecting someone who couldn't even defend themselves, she reached up and began to tug on her hair anxiously.

Thankfully, she was saved from having to respond to her sibling as Luther announced his presence with his sharp tone: "Ben! Why aren't you dressed?"

"I'm not going," he replied evenly, his eyes never straying from his book.

"But we'll be one man down!"

"Relax. Vanya can take my place."

At his endorsement, Viktor turned away from the mirror to face their leader, insisting: "I wanna help you guys."

Luther's gaze found Alexa's, silently accusing her 'why haven't you done something about this?' She opened her mouth to say what she had just pointed out, but he called for their father before she could. "Dad?"

"Narc," Ben grumbled.

Reginald appeared in seconds, his cold, gray eyes taking in the scene. "Number Six. Why aren't you dressed?"

"He says he's not going," Luther answered dutifully.

"He's not going," Alexa insisted, standing up from his bed to try and feel a little more intimidating— though trying to pressure their father into doing something was a fruitless effort. "You know how he feels about his powers; you shouldn't make him—"

Before she could finish, Reginald's sharp gaze snapped to her. "Enough, Number Eight. You are not here to entertain your brother's weaknesses." He spoke with a cold finality, his words cutting through the air and landing heavily on her. "It is his own fault if he's uncomfortable with his abilities. If he were truly capable, he'd have mastered it by now. That is what it means to have control. Everyone in this family has a role to play, a purpose I set for them. You would do well to follow your brother's example," he said, gesturing to Luther, who straightened proudly, somehow managing to look both smug and respectful. "Disobedience undermines our mission, and weakness will get your siblings killed. Is that what you want?"

Alexa's face flushed, her fists clenched at her sides. She knew their father would shut her down brutally, but it was no easier to hear even though she'd expected it. She looked at her siblings, hoping someone would back her up, but they all looked away, avoiding her gaze. Luther, however, wore a disappointed frown, his look clearly scolding her for stepping out of line. He expected her to be on his side, to keep the others in check— and she had failed him.

Swallowing hard, she cast her gaze down, the familiar sting of humiliation bubbling up. She wanted to argue, to say that their father was wrong, that it was unfair to expect absolute obedience at the cost of their emotional well-being. But there was no room for that here; her place had been made painfully clear. Her gaze fell to the floor, her momentary spark of defiance extinguished. She hated herself for backing down, for failing to protect Ben when she knew he needed it.

Reginald turned away from his children dismissively, pausing just before he left the room to address Viktor. "And what do you think you're doing?"

He faltered under the older man's intense scrutiny. "I just. . . I thought I could help on this mission."

Reginald's lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line— a common expression on his face. Ben sighed as he closed his book and stood, conceding defeat, while Viktor got the harsher reproach. "Take that off immediately. You look ridiculous."

--

When the Academy was finally ready to go, they gathered in the living room so their father could brief them on the mission. Luther was paying the most attention, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees to show his undivided focus. Diego was positioned similarly, though he was more subtle in his avid listening. Allison sat on Luther's other side with her arms crossed, looking vaguely annoyed from Klaus' earlier antics. Ben was the most relaxed, reclining against the back of the sofa with his arm draped over the edge.

Klaus sat on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, his fingers fidgeting his coat buttons as he tried to sober up. Viktor and Alexa stood behind their siblings, the former concentrating more on what their father was saying. The blonde still felt embarrassed and angry, so she avoided her father's eyes and let her gaze drift to where Five's portrait sat above the mantle, his green eyes staring down at them disapprovingly— a reminder commissioned to her from their father as to what would happen if they challenged him. Looking at the boy made her chest ache and she wished desperately that he were still here with them.

Reginald stood in front of the siblings with a pin-up board filled with the relevant information. "A Moldovan arms dealer has acquired a deadly new weapon. It's being held in a shipping container, awaiting a buyer. Your mission is to locate and destroy the weapon before the deal can be made. Number One will take point. Number Eight will take sweeper."

Alexa jerked at the sound of her name, her wistful thoughts evaporating as her father brought her plunging back down to earth. Diego shot her a disgruntled look, irritated that she was taking the second position when it should belong to him. He sat up eagerly. "What about me? What should I do?"

"Stop asking questions," his father reprimanded him. When he fell silent, the older man continued: "now, children, whatever you do, it is imperative that you keep the weapon contained. Do not, under any circumstances, open the container. Is that understood?" They gave him nods of agreement. "Very well. It's time, children."

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

The illegal warehouse was, predictably, dark and off the beaten path. The Umbrella Academy darted between shipping crates to avoid being seen by their enemies, using the flashlights clipped to their harnesses to guide their way. Once they arrived in the target area, Luther brought them to a stop by raising his hand in a silent warning as he looked around the crate to make sure the coast was clear. "Tangos, three o'clock."

They waited for the men to pass before they continued onward, successfully locating a large, metal container that stood out from the other boxes around it. After double-checking to make sure it was the right one, they got to work quickly and began setting up the bombs. Alexa remained alert, straining to sense any incoming danger. She felt the hairs on her arms raise seconds before shouts reached them, and she hissed, "guys!"

Luther nodded, trusting her instinct— but he still hesitated, unwilling to abandon their task entirely to deal with the situation. Seeing his brother's uncertainty, Ben waved him off. "Go, I got this."

The blond didn't look particularly convinced, so Alexa added, "I'll stay with him. You protect the others."

Her brother nodded once more, knowing he could rely on her to keep Ben safe while he couldn't be there. He turned to their other siblings. "Okay. Diego, Allison, Klaus, you're on me. Let's go."

After their siblings left, Alexa stayed quiet and let her brother work on triggering the weapons. While she was tempted to activate one of her shields as a precaution, she knew that the blue light would act like a beacon and draw every guard's notice to them. So, she tried to distract herself from the nerves that tightened her stomach by rubbing her hands up and down her arms to try and get the fine hairs to lie flat (they were in enemy territory, of course there was danger all around.)

It didn't take long for Ben to finish his task and he went to attach it to the container. As he did so, they both heard a series of dull thumps that came from inside. Exchanging a confused look, the brunet froze and leaned in closer to see if he could hear them again. "Is someone in there?"

Another two thumps answered him. He began to climb up the ladder only to be stopped by a tug on his harness. "What are you doing?"

"Someone's alive in there," he answered in an equally-quiet voice. "We can't blow up an innocent person!"

The blonde chewed on her lower lip as she thought, the only reason she was torn on her decision being the itch of danger that wouldn't leave her alone. "Ben. . ." she began, and saw her brother's eyes flash with surprise and anger as he anticipated her refusal. Instead, she pleaded, "let me take a look instead. That way, if they are dangerous, I can do something about it."

He wavered, having been dead set on seeing who or what was inside on his own. But he knew his sister was only looking out for him and she didn't want him to get in trouble alone. "Fine, but let me go first."

She agreed and followed him up to the top of the container. He got the hatch unscrewed in short order and moved it away from the opening as quietly as he could. His flashlight beamed down to reveal a girl. His mind raced with the implication of their mission; Reginald had wanted to destroy her!

Alexa's skin burned suddenly, the itch turning into a wildfire as her senses intensified. She grabbed the brunet's arm to hold him back. "Ben, don't! There's something— there's something wrong with her—"

"It's probably just the surroundings," he replied dismissively, though he was gentle as he freed himself from her grip. He turned to the girl inside, reassuring her, "it's okay. We're here to help. What's your name?"

"Jennifer." Her voice came out tinny because of her metal surroundings.

Jennifer. Jennifer. Jennifer.

The name resonated within him, as if he'd already known who she was. His stomach writhed— not from nervousness, but something deeper, something that came from inside of him. . . He swallowed past the fear that immediately rose to the surface as he thought about the tentacles in his stomach. Pushing away the impossible thought (he could control his powers. His father would. . . would punish him, in the simplest terms, if he didn't.), he tried for a comforting smile as he introduced himself. "My name is Ben and this is my sister, Alexa. We're gonna get you out of here, okay? Can you trust me? Take my hand."

"No!" the blonde exclaimed, reacting instinctively to shove her brother's extended arm out of the way. He fell backwards on his hands with a grunt, giving her an aggravated look at her continued resistance. She knew she couldn't convince him to stop, so instead she turned to the girl and offered her own hand— a hand whose skin was protected and invulnerable to any threat this girl may possess.

Naturally, that's when their siblings decided to make a reappearance. "Alexa!" Luther snapped, causing her to jump and turn at the sound of his voice. The four of them shone their flashlights in the pair's faces, causing them to squint against the brightness. "What the hell are you doing?"

She faltered, not wanting to disappoint him for a second time that day. This time, Ben jumped in to help explain, seeing as how it had been his idea in the first place. "There's someone in here. We have to get her out."

Luther frowned at him. "That wasn't part of the plan."

"So what? You're gonna blow up an innocent girl, Luther?"

Still, the blond hesitated, torn by his duty to their father. "But Dad said. . ."

Ben had no such qualms, lashing back: "I don't give a fuck what Dad said! We need to help her."

"We can't just let her die," Alexa added, her voice quieter than the brunet's but just as determined. "We're supposed to be heroes."

Ben ignored his siblings' brewing argument and turned back to the girl. He offered her his hand again, straining to reach her. Jennifer's eyes darted between Ben and the walls of the container and she hesitated for just a moment, then reached up to grab his hand. Her touch was cold, shaking slightly, but Ben held firm, pulling her up. Her legs felt weak from standing so long and she collapsed half on top of the brunet, clutching at his harness to keep herself upright. His arms wrapped around her impulsively, though every instinct was screaming at him to push her away.

He could always tell when his tentacles were going to have a difficult day and right now, all the signs were pointing to them gaining a mind of their own. They pushed against his stomach with greater insistence and he struggled to keep the portal from expanding. He didn't know why they were acting like this— he never did— but it almost seemed as if they wanted to get closer to Jennifer.

Below them, their siblings started to argue about what the best course of action was. As it usually happened, their conflicting opinions made their disagreement become louder as the four of them fought each other to win, with Klaus' nervous laughter sounding above their heated words. But, Ben wasn't paying attention to them. His focus was on Jennifer and the swirling, agitated feeling in his stomach— something he was quickly loosing control on by the second. His gaze found Alexa's, and he allowed her to see the true emotions on his face.

The worry in Ben's eyes was raw, piercing Alexa to her core. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her own rising panic under control. She could see him struggling to rein in the dark forces inside him, forces that he'd admitted to never fully understanding or being able to contain. She knew Ben's power well enough to recognize when it was going haywire, but she'd never seen him look this unsettled.

He lowered his voice, barely a whisper, "I can't keep it together, Lex. It's like. . . it's calling to her." His gaze flicked to Jennifer, who looked back at him, her expression a strange mix of fear and fascination.

Alexa felt the dread crawl up her spine, but she forced herself to stay steady. She couldn't let him see her own fear— not now, when he needed her to believe in him, to give him the strength he was afraid he didn't have. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, steadying him as best she could.

"Ben, listen to me," she said, keeping her tone calm and grounded. "You're in control. Those powers? They're part of you, but they don't define you. You're stronger than them."

He looked up at her, his face betraying doubt. "What if I'm not? What if today. . . today's the day they just take over?"

She felt her heart stutter, but she tightened her grip on his shoulder, her fingers steadying both of them. "Then you've got us, alright? You've got me." She glanced at Jennifer, hoping the girl couldn't hear the tremor she fought to keep from her voice. "We'll figure this out together."

The brunet took a shaky breath, reaching out with one hand to grasp his sister's. She gripped his hand tightly, trying to convey in her expression that they wouldn't let him face this alone. Jennifer didn't know what they were talking about, but she could feel Ben's tenseness as he held her against him. Alexa glanced down in the direction of their siblings, her brow furrowed. "Come on; let's get down before—"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The argument had drawn an unintentional audience.

Alexa acted instinctively, activating her shield so that its blue light covered all three of them. Or, at least, that had been her goal, but something was wrong; as her dome fell over Jennifer, it felt as if she were suddenly pushing against gravity ten times what she was used to. The light fizzed at the edges where it encountered the other girl's space, turning gold as it burned away the blue.

She clenched her hands tighter, trying to force it down and cover all three of them. But the shield reacted violently, shimmering with strange colors as if trying to fend off Jennifer's energy. The golden hue crackled, pulsing against her control, each wave of resistance sending stabs of pain through her. Gritting her teeth, Alexa forced herself to keep the shield up, even as her body screamed in protest. She felt her strength waning as her shield struggled to contain the strange energy radiating from Jennifer.

Jennifer, sensing the tension and the flashing light around her, curled inward, her gaze fearful and distant. She seemed unaware of the disruption she was causing

Ben's gaze snapped between the girls, a surge of terror settling into his stomach as he realized the two were locked in a volatile balance. The thrumming inside him grew unbearable as it responded to the activity around him. His grip on Jennifer tightened as his tentacles began to react, pushing up from his stomach, throbbing as though alive and hungry. He gritted his teeth, feeling his control slip inch by inch, the dark energy inside him surging forward like it had a will of its own.

"Lex, stop! You're hurting yourself!" he choked out, voice strained. But she didn't back down, shaking her head in defiance, her face pale from the pain yet resolute. She would keep that shield up for as long as she could— whatever it took to keep Ben and Jennifer safe.

As they struggled, the Hargreeves below them quickly took care of the gunmen. Diego's hand flashed, a blade sailing through the air toward the source of the gunfire. A grunt, then silence. The shooter went down, collapsing into a heap behind the crates. Once the immediate threat was taken care of, they turned their gazes to the trio above, watching the flashing, shifting lights, but unable to see anything properly and powerless to help.

Alexa grunted in response to her brother's protest, grinding out: "just. . . a little longer," she muttered, her voice wavering. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the flickering blue of her shield, struggling to push back the golden energy bleeding through.

But Jennifer's presence was triggering something deep within Ben, something that had lain dormant, waiting for a moment like this. The writhing pressure in his stomach grew unbearable, until his tentacles, slick and shadowed, finally burst out of him, moving as if possessed. They darted forward, encircling Jennifer as though to claim her, feeding off the strange energy surrounding her.

Ben barely registered his siblings' shouts below, too consumed by the pulse of raw power radiating between him and Jennifer. He fought against the tentacles' tightening grip, his entire body shaking with the effort. The brunette looked up at him, her eyes wide. She placed her hand on one of the tentacles, and, to Alexa's horror, the golden energy pulsed stronger, racing up Ben's tendrils toward his chest. The portal in his stomach opened wider, its inky darkness roiling like a storm ready to consume.

"Ben! Stop!" Alexa cried, but her voice sounded far away, drowned out by the rush of energy enveloping her brother and Jennifer. She was losing her grip on the shield, the golden energy seeping through, creeping toward her like a relentless wave. Her skin prickled painfully, the searing energy pressing in until it felt like her very bones were ablaze.

But just when it seemed that all control was lost, Jennifer whispered, "It's. . . okay." Her voice was soft yet resolute, as if she'd accepted something neither Ben nor Alexa could fully understand.

With an audible crack, Alexa's shield shattered, blue shards of light dispersing into the warehouse like fallen stars. The energy surged forward, consuming them all in a brilliant flash. Ben felt his tentacles retract instinctively, drawing Jennifer closer to him as if to shield her from the onslaught of raw power. The backlash sent her flying and she crashed down the ladder, her body skidding to a stop on the ground below. In that suspended moment, Alexa felt an overwhelming presence— a strange and vast awareness, as if she'd touched the edge of a hidden truth just beyond her comprehension.

This knowledge didn't have time to linger. In addition to throwing her through the air like a ragdoll, the explosion had also completely collapsed the container. Alexa struggled to sit up, knowing that the danger was far from over; her siblings still needed her, even if she felt that she had nothing else to give. She coughed, trying to catch her breath, when she saw Ben slumped against the twisted metal, his face pale, his breaths shallow. Jennifer lay a few feet away, dazed, her body still crackling with residual energy that seemed to resist fading.

Just as Alexa attempted to move toward Ben, the sound of purposeful footsteps— not those of the guards— registered to the Academy. Reginald appeared, his face unreadable, save for the dangerous glint in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he raised a gun and fired— directly at Jennifer.

"No!" the blonde threw herself in the bullet's path, but she was too slow (always too slow.)

The Horror didn't like that.

The scream that tore out of Ben's throat was unlike anything his siblings had ever heard before. It was raw, primal, and filled with anguish as Jennifer's body went limp in his arms. The tentacles that had been so strangely drawn to her retracted violently, curling and thrashing like a cornered beast. Ben's entire body shook as he held her, staring down at the lifeless form that moments before had been brimming with something— power, connection, life.

"Jennifer!" he gasped, trying to shake her awake. He didn't understand. What had happened? She couldn't be dead. His powers. . . they'd wanted to protect her, not—

Sobs wracked his body as his horror twisted into something darker, something angrier. His tentacles lashed out, their shadows stretching long across the warehouse floor. With a mind of their own on the best of days, they were uncontrollable now, filled with his sister's and Jennifer's energies. They reared back, trembling, and with a guttural roar, he lunged forward, his anguish manifesting in a violent burst of power, convulsing and rebelling against their master, forcing him to the ground. Ben cried out in pain as his powers spiraled wildly, losing coherence, slipping further and further from his control.

They curled around her, pulsing with his own grief, amplifying the dark energy that threatened to tear him apart from within. His siblings could only watch in horror, powerless against the raw, chaotic force erupting around him. It was as though he were drowning, the tidal wave of his own powers dragging him under, deeper and deeper. The portal in his stomach yawned wide, a vortex of shadow and rage threatening to engulf everything in its reach.

Reginald stood still, his expression a chilling calm as he observed the struggle. For him, this was a calculated moment, a test of Ben's limits. He raised his voice, cold and unwavering. "Number Six, control yourself. Show me that my expectations were not misplaced."

Those words struck a nerve deep within Ben, as if snapping something fragile and precious within him. He forced his gaze toward Reginald, and a burning rage filled his eyes. His father's indifference, his endless tests, had taken everything from him— everything but the fragile connection he shared with his siblings. With a strained growl, he tried to wrench his powers back under control, but it was as if Reginald's command had triggered a darker, deeper hunger in him.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the tentacles, though still coiled around Jennifer, began to recede, curling back toward his body, no longer feeding off her lifeless form. But the release came at a cost. The energy Ben had contained, now denied its source, lashed back at him with a vengeance. His body convulsed as waves of power surged inward, clawing at him from the inside out. He doubled over, his breaths ragged, his face twisted in pain.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp, the portal in Ben's stomach closed, the energy burning through his insides instead of expanding outward— a final act to protect his siblings. The violent power dissipated, leaving only silence.

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

No one was allowed in Reginald's office.

This was a well-known rule among the Academy, and not a single person— not even Five— had ever broken it. Now, Alexa stood before her father's desk, invited, but under unimaginable circumstances. Her hands were clenched tight behind her back, every muscle in her body coiled and tense. His office was almost more intimidating on this side of the threshold than looking on from the outside, since only the most dire of situations would allow them beyond the door. Reginald was seated, hands folded neatly in front of him, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

He waited, allowing her discomfort to steep, before finally breaking the silence with a dispassionate calm. "Number Eight," he addressed her, his voice as steady and unaffected as ever. "Your brother's recent. . . incident requires swift and decisive action."

Alexa swallowed hard, her throat tight. The pain of Ben's death— if she could even fully comprehend it yet— was too raw, too near the surface. Her mind replayed the image of him in her arms, lifeless, his face still etched with anguish. "Incident?" she repeated, her voice cracking, low with fury and hurt.

"Yes." Reginald's response was as clinical as a surgeon's scalpel. "An unfortunate outcome, but a necessary sacrifice to keep this family intact. Your siblings cannot know what transpired; it would be detrimental to team morale."

Her heart lurched. "What are you saying?"

Reginald leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "I am going to remove their memories of today's events. They will remember Number Six's passing, but only as a tragic accident— nothing more."

The room spun around her. Alexa struggled to comprehend what he was suggesting. To erase what happened? To make them forget? It felt wrong, twisted, but her father's expression was impenetrable, uncaring as to how that day affected her siblings' minds. She took a breath, trying to ground herself. 

"And me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Reginald's gaze remained locked on hers, unwavering. "Your powers prevent me from altering your mind. You alone will remember what truly happened."

Alexa's heart twisted. It was like a punch to the gut, a revelation that knocked the wind out of her. She would be the only one forced to carry the truth of Ben's death, a truth her siblings would never understand, never share. The weight of that knowledge felt suffocating.

Reginald's voice lowered, a calculated softness entering his tone. "I know this will be a heavy burden, Number Eight. But you must understand— this is for their own good."

She shook her head, a flicker of defiance sparking in her chest. "But they have a right to know! They were there. They saw it happen."

"And what would that knowledge bring them?" Reginald's voice cut through her protest like ice. "Pain? Guilt? Blame? You know them as well as I do, Number Eight. You know how volatile they are, how prone they are to overreaction. If they were to remember the truth, they would surely lash out. And who do you think they would turn that anger toward?"

The implication hit her like a slap. She stared at him, unable to process the insidious suggestion beneath his words.

"They would blame you, Number Eight," he continued, his voice low, almost soothing. "They would see you as the one responsible for their suffering. For their loss. After all, it was your power that Number Six tried to contain. They would turn against you, reject you— just as they have done in the past. Only this time, there would be no mending the damage."

Her breath hitched, memories flashing through her mind of times when her siblings had been angry with her, times when she'd felt isolated and judged, even hated. Her protective abilities had always set her apart and Reginald had used that difference to create distance between her and her siblings; this proposal was just another example of the divide he enforced.

Seeing her hesitation, Reginald pressed further. "I am offering you a mercy, Number Eight. A chance to protect your family, to keep them united in their grief rather than torn apart by it. All you must do is carry the truth alone. I trust you can do that."

She felt a stab of shame for even considering his words, but the fear he'd planted was artful, burrowing deep into her heart. She could almost see it— her siblings, looking at her with contempt, with betrayal in their eyes, hating her for being the one left with the truth. Hating her for being different. She could hear the accusations, the blame. And they would never know, never understand that she hadn't been responsible for Ben's death— that she hadn't been strong enough to save him.

Trembling, she forced herself to meet her father's gaze. "And if I agree. . . they'll never know?"

"They'll never know," he confirmed. "They will remember it as a tragedy, nothing more."

Alexa's heart pounded, her stomach twisting with conflict. Part of her screamed that this was wrong, that Reginald was manipulating her, playing on her insecurities (that Five would never agree to this, that he would refuse to bend to their father's will. But she wasn't Five. She was weaker than he was, desperate to keep her family together above all else.) She wanted to believe that she was doing something noble, something to protect her family from more pain— and that overpowered her doubts.

Swallowing back the bile in her throat, she nodded slowly, her voice barely a whisper. "Fine. I'll keep the truth. . . if it's what's best for them."

Reginald's expression remained inscrutable, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he inclined his head. "Good. You've made the right choice, Number Eight. Remember, you are stronger than they know, and your burden is a testament to that strength."

As she turned to leave, her heart felt heavier than ever, the truth pressing down on her like a weight she could hardly bear. She paused, glancing back at her father one last time. "What if. . . what if one day I want to tell them? What if they deserve to know?"

Reginald's gaze hardened, his voice growing colder. "If you do, Alexa, you'll shatter whatever peace remains in this family. Remember that."

With that, she left his office, the promise of silence burning bitterly on her tongue, knowing that her father had bound her in a prison of her own guilt and loyalty.

A/n: just to clarify the October 2006 scene, I wanted to be respectful of Viktor/Elliot's transition and refer to him by his deadname as little as possible. That's why I went with calling him Viktor and using he/him pronouns, but Ben and Alexa address him with his female name (since he obviously hadn't transitioned yet.) I thought the show would make more of a point about that (it felt weird that they went with the OG actress and called him by his deadname), so this is what felt more comfortable to me.

When I first saw this episode, I was very disappointed by how they portrayed the Jennifer Incident. They made it out to be this big thing, something so traumatic that Reginald had to erase the minds of the Hargreeves. I thought there was going to be more action, or at least it would be related to Ben's lifelong fear of his tentacles. So, that's what I decided to write instead. Hopefully I portrayed it dramatically/angsty enough. I also wanted to explain why Ben's 'reason for death' wasn't shown on his ghostly form like all the other ghosts, so instead of having his tentacles be a more physical part of his death (like in Wastelands of Time), I had him die because he'd absorbed too much energy internally, but nothing immediately apparent on the outside.