"No," He's shaking his head, even if she can't see it for being pressed against his chest. "No-- shh. It's okay. It's okay, you didn't and it wasn't and it's okay. It's gon-na be okay, okay?" His words are rapid-fire with shuddered breaths and a stray hiccup somewhere halfway through it, his fingers still threading through her hair in what feels like the weakest fucking attempt at comfort known to man, but he is just at such a loss and he doesn't know what else to do.
When she starts again, apologizing and saying she never meant to, he shakes his head again and pushes, gently, on her shoulder so he can move one hand to her face again. "Don't, okay? Don't. I pr-promise, it's gonna...be...different." He's barely holding himself together enough to even give her this awful attempt at a pep talk, so he tugs her back against his chest and resumes petting her hair, insistently whisper, "It's okay... it's gonna be okay..." until he can make both of them believe it.
She leans into his hand, clutching at him and feeling like she needs him more than she ever has in their lives. It might not be true, exactly: she needed them, badly, when they were kids, but didn't know how to express it. Vanya's always felt things strongly - when they weren't muted under the medicine her father gave her - but this comes with the fear that any minute she'll lose control and bring a building down on them.
So while part of her just wants to lean into him, and listen to him, and believe him, Vanya doesn't know how to believe anything anyone tells her anymore.
"I'm--" Another sob stops her from voicing the rest in a single string. The effort it takes to pull her face from his shoulder is Herculean, but she pushes back so she can sit on the piano bench, rather than half sitting on him.
"I'm not - I'm not safe." She drags her arm across her face, struggling to get the tears under control.
Every sob that escapes Vanya is like glass shards in his chest. He hates this, he hates all of this, because all he can see in this moment now is just how fucked up everything about what led them here really is. How badly, how deeply, their treatment of her had cut. This isn't a child lashing out because their siblings were rude to them-- it's three decades worth of being ignored and shut out and told to shut up and that she didn't count, didn't matter, was totally boring and normal in the family of extraordinaries built up in the slowest burning bomb that exploded with just the right pushes on just the right buttons from just the wrong kind of guy.
But it all started back then. When they were the tiniest of kids, being taught to push their sister to the side. It doesn't matter that it was a taught and learned behavior; Klaus was never great at rules, he pushed boundaries and broke rules with the best of them. Why hadn't he broken that one? Why had he ever stopped including her?
He doesn't even have an answer, and that may be worse than having a shitty one in the first place.
Klaus doesn't try to keep her when she pulls away from him, even though he really wants to, because contact is the best way he knows how to comfort. But he'll give her what she wants, what she needs, because that's the least he could do at this point. So he lets her go and he folds his hands in his lap, eyes on her to listen to whatever it is she has to say.
"No," he counters, shaking his head as she finally manages to get the words out. Three tiny words that hold so much more impact than he wants them to. "V... you- i-i-it's not...you that's not safe, okay? It's...your powers. Because you- you never got to--" No, no, idiot, not that.
"Powers can be-- it's hard, but... y- we can fix that. I dunno how, Alli and Five would probably...be better for that, but we can all...help you figure it out. Powers can be trained, Vanya, we can do it. We can do this. You can do this. All of us. Together, okay?" He's not sure when he had grabbed her hand between both of his again, but there it is, and he's threading their fingers together, squeezing gently.
She never got to train. Never got to be part of it with them, and God, why? Why did Dad do that to her, why did he make Allison take it all away? Part of her just wants to rage at his memory, but part of her, whatever's left of her logical side, knows there had to be a reason. He wouldn't do that on a whim, not when her abilities could have been so useful to the Academy.
Vanya always knew she didn't make the cut, but she doesn't understand why. Only now, she has different guesses, and they're not making it any easier to have faith in herself.
"Then why - why didn't Dad?"
The question comes out raw, and she drops her arm to her lap. The tears won't stop, what's the point of pretending like she can hide it? "What if - what if knew what I would do?" The last thing she wants to do is prove him posthumously right, but what is she supposed to think? "I'm dangerous, Klaus!"
Klaus doesn't understand it, either. Everything else out of the shadows and on the table now, he doesn't get why Dad would have hidden her powers, suppressed it away like it had never existed at all. But he's not as generous in believing in the best laid plans of that man, either.
"I don't know, V... why did Dad ever do anything? He was never exactly the bastion of patience or reason."
His face screws up with confusion at that last question, not quite following her at first and there's an awkward teeter of silence as he tries to sort it out and--
Then it clicks. And incredulity takes over.
"Knew, what, Vanya, that the Apocalypse was coming in like twenty years? I seriously doubt that," there's a scoff, more of disbelief than anything else, and certain directed more at the idea of Dad being that proactive about the sake of the entire world than at Vanya herself. "He created this, Vanya. He didn't predict it, he made it!" His hands are moving animatedly now with the vehemence of his words. "If he hadn't done this- suppressed your powers and taught us all to push you aside and shoved you behind a curtain-- none of this would have ever happened!"
Whether it's true or not is debatable, and is genuinely something they will probably never truly be able to know the answer to. But whether it is or not, it's obvious it's what Klaus believes, at any rate. There is too much conviction there for it to be anything less than his own truth of the situation.
It wasn't exactly a hard lesson to learn, was it? It's not cruelty that tinges the thought, but the frankness of childhood: Dad may have taught them to push her aside, but they all followed his example, every one of them.
Even her.
Her face is hot, uncomfortably so, and she swipes her arm over her face, using the sleeve of her too-big sweater to clean it at least a little. "No," she finally chokes out, shaking her head and closing her eyes. She tilts her head back, looking for a breeze that isn't there. "Not - the apocalypse."
She thinks of Dad's monocle, briefly, and can't figure out why: one of her foggy memories, unfogging? It's too hard to focus.
"He had to have known - or, or suspected - what I could do."
Because Vanya knows, knows that she is powerful. Not just special, but strong. Stronger than all of them, put together even. And for a man like Reginald Hargreeves to set aside an advantage in his goals, there had to be a reason.
She couldn't be trusted with her powers. Not then, and probably not now.
Oh. The idea and feeling and realization of that one word is practically tangible in the air between them as it clicks that everything he'd just ranted about was not... really what she meant, at all. He doesn't really care, though, because he'd still stand by it. Dad had as good as forced Vanya's hand-- the tell-all book, latching onto the first guy to show her ten seconds of attention and ignoring any sign that he wasn't quite right, the massive explosion of emotions that led to...everything else in the end. It was as good as orchestrated by their father's hand, and it makes Klaus sick to think about it.
"He didn't like he couldn't control you the way he could the rest of us, maybe? I-I dunno, Vanya... none of us can answer tha--" The words die on his tongue as he realizes how stupidly ironic it is that he, of all people, is even daring to try and say that. Sure, he, personally, could not answer that, but-- "I mean, I- maybe I could try... but--" He runs a hand down his face. "It took nearly dying to talk to him last time, so I don't know if..." He mouth moves wordlessly for the shortest of seconds, "I mean- I could try to ask him..." He doesn't want to, exactly, but if it's the kind of answer that might help her, it might be worth it.
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Date: 2019-03-26 03:40 am (UTC)When she starts again, apologizing and saying she never meant to, he shakes his head again and pushes, gently, on her shoulder so he can move one hand to her face again. "Don't, okay? Don't. I pr-promise, it's gonna...be...different." He's barely holding himself together enough to even give her this awful attempt at a pep talk, so he tugs her back against his chest and resumes petting her hair, insistently whisper, "It's okay... it's gonna be okay..." until he can make both of them believe it.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-01 02:23 am (UTC)So while part of her just wants to lean into him, and listen to him, and believe him, Vanya doesn't know how to believe anything anyone tells her anymore.
"I'm--" Another sob stops her from voicing the rest in a single string. The effort it takes to pull her face from his shoulder is Herculean, but she pushes back so she can sit on the piano bench, rather than half sitting on him.
"I'm not - I'm not safe." She drags her arm across her face, struggling to get the tears under control.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-01 04:00 am (UTC)But it all started back then. When they were the tiniest of kids, being taught to push their sister to the side. It doesn't matter that it was a taught and learned behavior; Klaus was never great at rules, he pushed boundaries and broke rules with the best of them. Why hadn't he broken that one? Why had he ever stopped including her?
He doesn't even have an answer, and that may be worse than having a shitty one in the first place.
Klaus doesn't try to keep her when she pulls away from him, even though he really wants to, because contact is the best way he knows how to comfort. But he'll give her what she wants, what she needs, because that's the least he could do at this point. So he lets her go and he folds his hands in his lap, eyes on her to listen to whatever it is she has to say.
"No," he counters, shaking his head as she finally manages to get the words out. Three tiny words that hold so much more impact than he wants them to. "V... you- i-i-it's not...you that's not safe, okay? It's...your powers. Because you- you never got to--" No, no, idiot, not that.
"Powers can be-- it's hard, but... y- we can fix that. I dunno how, Alli and Five would probably...be better for that, but we can all...help you figure it out. Powers can be trained, Vanya, we can do it. We can do this. You can do this. All of us. Together, okay?" He's not sure when he had grabbed her hand between both of his again, but there it is, and he's threading their fingers together, squeezing gently.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-02 02:50 am (UTC)Vanya always knew she didn't make the cut, but she doesn't understand why. Only now, she has different guesses, and they're not making it any easier to have faith in herself.
"Then why - why didn't Dad?"
The question comes out raw, and she drops her arm to her lap. The tears won't stop, what's the point of pretending like she can hide it? "What if - what if knew what I would do?" The last thing she wants to do is prove him posthumously right, but what is she supposed to think? "I'm dangerous, Klaus!"
no subject
Date: 2019-04-02 03:33 am (UTC)"I don't know, V... why did Dad ever do anything? He was never exactly the bastion of patience or reason."
His face screws up with confusion at that last question, not quite following her at first and there's an awkward teeter of silence as he tries to sort it out and--
Then it clicks.
And incredulity takes over.
"Knew, what, Vanya, that the Apocalypse was coming in like twenty years? I seriously doubt that," there's a scoff, more of disbelief than anything else, and certain directed more at the idea of Dad being that proactive about the sake of the entire world than at Vanya herself. "He created this, Vanya. He didn't predict it, he made it!" His hands are moving animatedly now with the vehemence of his words. "If he hadn't done this- suppressed your powers and taught us all to push you aside and shoved you behind a curtain-- none of this would have ever happened!"
Whether it's true or not is debatable, and is genuinely something they will probably never truly be able to know the answer to. But whether it is or not, it's obvious it's what Klaus believes, at any rate. There is too much conviction there for it to be anything less than his own truth of the situation.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-14 03:27 am (UTC)Even her.
Her face is hot, uncomfortably so, and she swipes her arm over her face, using the sleeve of her too-big sweater to clean it at least a little. "No," she finally chokes out, shaking her head and closing her eyes. She tilts her head back, looking for a breeze that isn't there. "Not - the apocalypse."
She thinks of Dad's monocle, briefly, and can't figure out why: one of her foggy memories, unfogging? It's too hard to focus.
"He had to have known - or, or suspected - what I could do."
Because Vanya knows, knows that she is powerful. Not just special, but strong. Stronger than all of them, put together even. And for a man like Reginald Hargreeves to set aside an advantage in his goals, there had to be a reason.
She couldn't be trusted with her powers. Not then, and probably not now.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-16 05:14 am (UTC)The idea and feeling and realization of that one word is practically tangible in the air between them as it clicks that everything he'd just ranted about was not... really what she meant, at all. He doesn't really care, though, because he'd still stand by it. Dad had as good as forced Vanya's hand-- the tell-all book, latching onto the first guy to show her ten seconds of attention and ignoring any sign that he wasn't quite right, the massive explosion of emotions that led to...everything else in the end. It was as good as orchestrated by their father's hand, and it makes Klaus sick to think about it.
"He didn't like he couldn't control you the way he could the rest of us, maybe? I-I dunno, Vanya... none of us can answer tha--" The words die on his tongue as he realizes how stupidly ironic it is that he, of all people, is even daring to try and say that. Sure, he, personally, could not answer that, but-- "I mean, I- maybe I could try... but--" He runs a hand down his face. "It took nearly dying to talk to him last time, so I don't know if..." He mouth moves wordlessly for the shortest of seconds, "I mean- I could try to ask him..." He doesn't want to, exactly, but if it's the kind of answer that might help her, it might be worth it.