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As Long as You Need Me

A/N: Written in response to this wonderful prompt:

Set in season 1, and I did switch it up a bit. The first part is three years before the second, and both are separated by the line break. Enjoy!

Title: As Long as You Need Me

Summary: When Diego finds a pregnant woman in a broken-down car on the side of a deserted road, he tells her he’ll stay for as long as she needs him. What neither of them seem to realise, is that the both of them may never stop needing each other. And they’re perfectly fine with that.

Words: 3697

Diego enjoyed walks at night.

He wasn’t so sure why. Maybe it was the silence. Or the dark. The way he could walk, alone, along deserted paths, and just think to himself.

Perhaps it was all three.

What he was sure about, was the fact that, after a long day, it was the only thing capable of refreshing his mind and expelling any unhealthy thoughts that had wandered uninvited into his brain that day while working at the shitty gym.

The road he was walking down now, hands stuffed in his pockets and black jacket zipped up to his chin to thwart the icy winter wind, was, as usual, isolated and still. No cars drove this way, and if they did then they passed quickly and without much more than a swift buzzing noise.

At least, that was the usual.

Now, in the quietude around him, he could just about hear the sound of someone shouting. And he raised his chin from the cover of his jacket, eyebrows furrowing as he squinted to look ahead. He could just about see the large, black shape of a car parked on the side of the road, hazy in the lack of lights, and though he slowed at first, never one to see a vehicle standing still on a typically deserted road a good sign, the shouting – or was it crying? – he’d heard earlier picked up again, and concern clouded his thoughts.

He walked faster, taking his hands from his pockets, and in less than a minute had arrived at the car. He kept his distance, craning his head slightly to peer around it, and his eyes narrowed once he noticed the dim hunched over figure of a woman. She was sat in the driver’s seat of what he could now see was a battered and dented car, the door open, one leg hanging out while the other was pulled up to her, bent at the knee.

“Hello?” He hesitantly walked around to the side of the car, hidden daggers feeling expectant in his back pocket. He doubted he’d need to use them, but years of never having a weapon on him at a time when they were needed had caused him to be ready at all hours of the day.

His eyebrows knitted together when he saw the woman, and he immediately slowed his pace, unsure as to whether or not she’d appreciate him coming so close. “Hey,” he started gently, “are you okay? Is- is everything alright?”

The woman’s head shot up so quickly he had to stop himself from taking a step back. He reached both hands up in front of him to show him he meant her no harm and waited for her defensive position to settle. He offered a warm smile. “I, um,” he began, hands still held palm-up in front of him, “my name is Diego. Hargreeves. Diego Hargreeves.” The woman had been listening, but her face contorted into one of pain a second after he’d told her his name and she doubled over, clutching her stomach.

Diego frowned and lowered his hands, taking a few steps forward. “Are you okay?” he asked again. When his only response was a sob of utter pain, he disregarded everything and knelt in front of her, trying to get her attention.

“No,” the woman cried out, tears streaming from her eyes, “I’m not okay! My car’s broken down and I- I left my mobile at home and I need to get to the hospital!”

Diego shook his head, lightly grasping the woman’s wrist. “Hospital? Are you hurt?”

“Hurt?” Her voice was riddled with pain and he found himself at a brief loss for what to do when she lifted her chin, staring at him with her tear-filled blue eyes. She shook her head lightly before sobbing out her next words. “I’m in fucking labour!”

Diego blanched. His eyes flicked down to her stomach, and his mouth made a little delayed ‘o’ shape when he noticed the bulge beneath her red coat. “Oh, shit,” he said to himself, waiting a moment before mentally shaking himself and leaping into action.

He shuffled forward. “Have your waters broken?” he asked, looking up at her, and she shook her head, eyes squeezing shut. She grabbed his hand, subconsciously or not, and squeezed hard. He let her.

“Okay, I’m gonna call an ambulance,” he told her, fishing in his pocket with his free hand for his phone. He pulled it out, dialled the emergency number, and held it up to his ear. “Do you have anyone I can call?” he questioned her as he waited.

“No,” she said, her hand clutching at her stomach as more tears streamed from her eyes, “it’s just me. It’s always just been me.”

The responder answered the phone before he could reply. “Hi, yeah, I need an ambulance. A lady here’s in labour and her car’s broken down, so- yeah. Uh, are you at full term?”

The woman shook her head. “I’m two weeks early,” she ground out.

“Two weeks early,” Diego spoke into the phone again. He kept his eyes on the woman as he told the responder where they were, all the while wondering how he’d ever gotten here. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll stay with her. Thank you.” He slipped the phone in his pocket and turned his attention back to the woman. “Okay,” he said, “they’ll be here as soon as possible. Just... try your best to focus on your breathing. Alright? Copy me.” He waited for her to open her eyes, her face rosy and flushed, hair sticking to her forehead, before he dramatically drew in a large breath, holding it for a while before letting it slowly go.

The woman copied, her breaths coming in shaking gasps, but after a short time, a semblance of the quietude Diego had missed that night returned. When what he guessed to be another contraction hit her suddenly, and he felt her squeeze his hand again, he moved forward and rubbed her back the moment she bent over.

He sighed, letting her clench his hand in her own, and glanced to the side at the empty road. He certainly hadn’t expected his walk to go like this. He rarely walked into a wandering hedgehog out for a nightly stroll, never mind a pregnant woman in a broken-down car.

But, alas, here he was, and here he would be staying until help arrived.

She sat up again and stared pitifully at him. He offered her a smile and she tried her own, the corners of her lips curving faintly upwards. She swallowed thickly, breathing heavily. “Thank you, Diego,” she said, voice trembling.

Diego nodded. “Don’t worry about it…” He dipped his head in an inclination for her name, and she smiled a little more genuinely this time.

“Ella Rhodes,” she told him.

“Nice to meet you, Ella,” Diego said softly, squeezing her hand for a moment in greeting.

She blinked, lifting her eyes to gaze at him, and he subconsciously – or perhaps even unconsciously – found himself doing the same, both finding an odd sense of comfort, even in the situation and under the circumstances, until the sound of sirens was heard in the near distance and Diego swiftly stood to his feet.

Ella turned her head up to him, panic written on her face. “Will you stay with me, Diego?” she asked, a hint of soft desperation laced into her tone, still holding onto him with all her strength, and he bent over slightly, clasping his hand on top of hers, eyes bright with assurance.

“For as long as you need me, Ella.”

Klaus Hargreeves strolled clumsily through the halls of the family house, puffing on a cigarette and mumbling incoherently to himself. It was three pm, and he’d just woken up.

The rest of the house was pretty quiet. Though he somehow thought to himself in his clouded, alcoholic breakfast mind, that that was because the house was also pretty big, and since Reginald’s funeral, nobody had really left their rooms unless it was to grab food. To be quite honest, he was waiting for the day he woke up and found they’d all just left.

“Oh, who cares?” he said to himself, coughing as he exhaled the smoke. “It’s always been just me anyway!” He turned his head and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Benno. You too.”

He stretched his arms out wide and yawned as he slowly made his way into the large living room, eyes shutting for a moment, but the moment they opened again, a girlish almost-scream ripped from his throat and he drew back into himself, dropping his cigarette on the floor and raising his hands as though they were going to protect him from the little girl sitting on the edge of the sofa in the room.

She was swinging her legs back and forth, tiny hands crossed adorably on her lap, and she turned her head when she noticed him come in, shoulder-length blonde hair, tied partly back with a black bow, curling around her little face. She blinked at him before giving a toothy smile. “Hi,” she said, lisping a little, and Klaus’s top lip curled upwards slightly.

“Hey,” he said hesitantly, hesitantly waving a hand in her direction, and when she giggled he dropped both arms and crossed them over his chest, never once moving his eyes from her as though he was afraid she’d suddenly pounce. “Little girl,” he spoke up a second later, “are you dead?” He pointed a finger at her, eyes narrowing slightly. The last time he’d checked, the only children who had ever set foot inside this house was him and his siblings, and that had been years ago.

The child’s mouth twisted as she supposedly thought to herself, before she decided on an answer and held up four fingers. “I three!”

Klaus’s eyes widened comically, and he took a few steps forward. “Really?” he asked in wonder. “How does it feel to be three?”

“Cool!” she told him ecstatically, her curls bouncing, and Klaus sidled in next to her, seating himself on the couch by the arm rest. He nodded at her, leaning his elbow on his knees and resting his chin in his hands.

“D’ya know what’s even cooler?” He leaned forward, whispering almost conspiratorially.

“What?”

“Being four!”

She laughed wildly, falling backwards in the usual child-like spirit, and Klaus found himself grinning. “But you old!” she said amidst light laughter, pointing a tiny finger at him, and he gasped, clapping a hand to his heart.

“Me? Old?” He couldn’t contain his own chuckles when she dissolved into giggles again, and for a moment he forgot about the shit that was happening and lost himself in the bliss that was a little girl’s contagious amusement.

Then, the realisation hit him in the face, and he remembered there was a little girl on the sofa in a house that little girls definitely should not be in, and he shook his head and swivelled to face her. “Hey, mite, you never answered my question. Are you dead?”

“Cleo?”

He turned at a voice he certainly did not recognise, eyes widening quickly at the sight of a woman rushing towards him, and briefly turned his head up to the sky, wondering if females had started dropping from the sky.

The woman picked the girl up, balancing her on her hip and turning narrowed eyes on him. “Did you just ask her if she’s dead?” she asked, and he shrugged, leaning halfway off the couch to pick up the discarded cigarette he’d dropped minutes before.

“What’s it to you?” he asked, sticking it in his mouth, and the woman, hair as blonde as the child’s, grit her jaw and steeled her expression.

“She’s my daughter,” she told him, reaching a hand up to cup the back of the girl’s head, “and she is one hundred percent alive, thank you very much.”

Klaus stood to his feet, stumbling slightly, and tried his best to look intimidating with his hands perched on his hips, short cigarette poking out from the side of his mouth. “Lady,” he said, tilting his head, “I don’t know if you know, but this is private property.”

The woman rose an eyebrow. “I was let in.”

“By who?” Klaus asked slowly.

“By me.” He spun around, almost toppling over, and grinned widely at the sight of Diego walking into the room, a plate of what looked to be sandwiches in his hands. He made to pass him, and Klaus reached for one, scowling when his brother slapped his hand away. “Leave her – and the food – alone, Klaus.” He stopped next to the woman, and Klaus blinked wide eyes when he saw him take the child from her and hand her the plate. The woman picked up a sandwich, gave it to the child, who took it eagerly, and leaned in a little closer to Diego.

“That’s Klaus?” she asked quietly.

Diego gave her a knowing look. “Yep.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“Told you.”

Klaus, ever the man child, scoffed and all but stomped his foot on the floor. “Who are you?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Luther spoke up as he appeared walking down the stairs, his siblings following close behind.

“Me too,” Allison agreed.

“Me three.” Vanya added.

“Me... yeah.” Five shook his head. “Why’d you call us in here, Diego? And who the hell calls a group chat ‘The Six Musketeers’?”

Diego waved a hand in his younger – older? – brother’s direction. “Just get over here,” he said, “I want to introduce you to someone.”

Klaus stubbed his long-done cigarette on the edge of a coffee table Diego was pretty sure his father had gone to an auction for and forbidden his children from ever touching it even once. But then he’d only thought about that because he thought about the stupidest of things when he was nervous.

He watched with gritted teeth and absently fidgeting hands as his brothers and sisters stood opposite him.

Allison and Vanya were sending each other looks. Luther was staring wide-eyed and stupid at the little girl munching on a sandwich in his arms. And Five was staring – more like glaring – at the woman beside him, who was also clearly anxious.

Everything was silent for a moment.

Then Diego took a quick deep breath and put an arm around her. “Guys,” he started, an almost warning tone in his voice, “this is Ella. And this- is Cleo. Your niece.”

The silence continued. Everyone looked like Luther, now. Except Five, who was still staring at Ella in that assassinating kind of way Diego was actually pretty scared of. Nevertheless, he physically shook himself after a while and turned confused eyes on him.

“Right,” he said, “forgive me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure your niece... is your sibling’s daughter...”

Diego’s lips spread in a tight smile. “Yup.”

Allison’s eyes widened, and she pointed a finger lightly in his direction. “So, she’s yours?”

“Yes.”

Vanya looked at Ella. “And- you guys are…”

“Together,” Diego confirmed, “yeah.”

Luther pursed his lips together in a thoughtful manner and nodded. “I see the resemblance,” he noted, and Diego chuckled.

“That’d be pretty hard, Luther, considering she’s not mine biologically,” he said, and the faces of his siblings grew all the more intrigued – even Five, surprisingly. “It’s… a long story. I’ll get to it one day. But, for now… I just wanted you to meet them. Finally.”

Ella nodded, offering a small, albeit clearly nervous, smile. “It’s really nice to meet you all. Diego’s told me a lot about you.”

Five crossed his spindly arms over his chest. “Oh, yeah? How much?”

She made to answer, but Diego could feel her growing uncomfortable. She always did in difficult situations, and this was definitely a difficult situation. There was a reason – more than one, really – he’d held off introducing family to family for so long. They just weren’t… normal. And that wasn’t to say that he was totally, boringly ordinary, it was just… well. He’d kept Ella and Cleo away from everything that could possibly be dangerous or cause them harm since the moment he’d come across them on the side of the road. Of course, he’d told Ella of his childhood, and of the Umbrella Academy, and he’d never once kept anything from her, but the fact of the matter had for years remained that hearing about someone and meeting them were two very different things. Not to mention he himself had neither spoken to nor seen any of his siblings since they’d all been called together just days ago for their father’s funeral. Really, it was a wonder he’d managed to persuade himself to introduce them now, but if he didn’t, he’d never get around to it, and for as much as he and his siblings were estranged, he wanted them to know he’d built a life for himself in the time they’d been away from each other. He wanted them to know that, though it’d taken a while, he was happy, and he’d pulled himself from the life he felt as though he’d been forced to make for himself, and had created something new, something better, something he wished to hold onto for as long as he was able...

“Everything, Five,” Diego said, a final tone to his voice. He gave his brother a look, and Five’s eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, but he relented eventually, turning away. Diego felt a strange sense of relief at that. It was crazy how the little guy could make him feel so heavy.

Allison smiled suddenly, and he could tell it was genuine. “Well,” she said, stepping forward and placing both hands on Ella’s shoulders. “I, for one, am so happy to meet you.” She turned to Cleo, who was still perched in Diego’s arms. “Hey, there,” she said, bending over slightly, “I’m your Aunt Allison.”

Cleo smiled toothily and waved her little hand, and Diego looked at Ella, their eyes meeting and instantly comforting the other.

“You know, I have a little girl around your age, too,” Allison continued. “Her name’s Claire. Maybe…” She turned her eyes up to Ella. “Maybe you could play together some day?” She posed it as a question, but the younger woman nodded eagerly, a soft smile gracing her lips.

“She’d love that,” she said, and Allison straightened as Klaus all but shoved past her, clasping the child’s hands in his own in a way that had her momentarily pausing in her munching of her sandwich.

“And I’m your Uncle Klaus,” he said, grinning widely when she started giggling.

“Aunt Vanya,” Vanya spoke up from the back, raising her hand.

“Your soon-to-be-favourite Uncle Luther!”

A chorus of disputes – mainly from Klaus – and rolls of the eyes came next, until everyone turned expectantly to the one who hadn’t yet spoken. He rolled his own eyes and waved a hand in their direction. “Yeah, yeah, call me Uncle Five and I’ll burn all your toys.”

The little girl unexpectedly giggled at that, clapping her hands, and, among everyone’s laughter and smiles, Five shook his head and allowed the corners of his lips to turn faintly upwards. That was good. For Five, at least.

“Have you guys had a tour of the house, yet?” Vanya asked.

Ella shook her head, glancing to Diego before turning back to his siblings. “Not yet.”

“We’ll take you!” Allison said, a hint of the excitement she’d lost out on a lot as a child returning to her voice, and Diego dutifully placed Cleo on the floor. Surprisingly, and yet somehow not at the same time, she clumsily toddled up to Five and reached for his hand.

“There you go, Five,” Luther said, grinning widely as he clapped his brother on the back, “you’ve got yourself a little cheerleader.”

Five rolled his eyes, inwardly grimacing at the sticky little palm curled around his. “Shut your mouth, Luther,” he all but hissed, nevertheless he didn’t remove his hand from the child’s, simply staring down at her as Vanya bent to her level to introduce herself, and Klaus – very characteristically – began pulling faces from behind her.

Allison reached an arm out for Ella, and the young woman looked at Diego, who gave her a small nod and an encouraging smile, before following after the small group.

Once they’d left, and the sound of Klaus and Five bickering between themselves and Vanya asking Cleo if she’d ever seen a talking monkey before faded, Luther, who’d stayed behind, gave Diego a knowing look, noting the blissful smile on his brother’s face.

“The kid’s sweet,” he spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest, and Diego drew in a deep breath.

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed.

“How old is she?”

“Three.”

“She’s known you as her dad her whole life?”

“Yeah.”

Luther nodded. “And Ella? She’s nice.”

Diego dropped his gaze to his boots, his smile growing. “She’s amazing.”

“You known her long?”

“Three years.”

“Ah.” Luther pursed his lips and took a step forward. He waited until Diego rose his eyes to meet his own before smiling and clapping his shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Diego,” he said sincerely, his eyes warm. “You deserve it.”

Diego smiled, and Luther figured it to be the sincerest smile he’d ever seen on him.

“Why now, though?” he asked. Diego frowned lightly.

“Huh?”

Luther shrugged. “You’ve kept them both a secret from us for three years. And, yeah, I get that we haven’t exactly all been friends since we left home, but… why are you telling us about them now? You could have kept them to yourself for a bit longer.”

Diego opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to think better of it and shut his mouth. He stayed staring at the ground for a short moment, blinking, shuffling his feet, before he raised his head and looked at Luther, somehow perfectly portraying the words he needed to in those dark brown eyes.

And Luther smiled, reaching for the glass bottle of whiskey resting on a coffee table. “Good luck, brother,” he said. “She’ll say yes; I know it.”

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