The house felt emptier than usual. Reginald Hargreeves had been anything but a nurturing presence. He was a man who treated his children like experiments rather than as what they are — children.

He had fostered bitterness and resentment in many of his children, especially after Five had vanished, leaving a void that Reginald had sought to fill by adopting another child with abilities — you.

You had been brought into the Academy, a replacement in more ways than one. You had powers, yes, but you also brought a sense of yearning for connection, a longing for approval that was often met with indifference. The trauma bond formed in those early days of adoption was one of the things that sustained you.

Compared to the uncertainty of foster care, the structure that Reginald provided — no matter how twisted — was a comfort.

Though your heart ached with the knowledge of his shortcomings — yes, you knew he was an awful father — you clung to the notion that love could be found in the cracks of Reginald's harsh demeanour.

But most of your siblings harboured resentment towards you for being the new kid on the block, the child who had filled the space that Five left behind. Only Diego, Klaus, and Viktor were in your corner.

After Reginald's funeral, after Five's reappearance, after the fight with Luther, after the destruction of Ben's statue, the house descended into silence. Everyone scattered, as they typically did after a fight, including you and Diego.

He aimlessly wandered the halls, stewing in the grief, the anger, and the resentment he felt for Reginald, and he found himself drawn to your old childhood room.

As he stepped inside, the sight before him stole the breath from his lungs. You were curled up on the floor, tears streaming down your face, holding a small photograph.

"Why are you crying?" Diego's voice was gruff, but beneath the surface, concern tugged at his heart. He had his own issues with Reginald, but he couldn't bear to see you in pain.