Officer Eudora Patch was not having a good day. First she'd had hours worth of paperwork to do, and then she'd ended up having to work a double shift. So now, at 11 pm, she was dragging a highly uncooperative junkie into the otherwise empty holding cell while he rattled on, talking to thin air. She'd brought him in for public intoxication, but really that was just the tip of the iceberg. Sure, he was probably drunk, reeking of alcohol as he was, but he was also likely high as a kite, and looked like someone had recently used him as a punching bag. If Eudora was being honest, she'd mostly been concerned about getting him off the street for at least a little bit.

She didn't even know his name, since he didn't have any ID on him and refused to tell her anything pertinent to the situation. He looked vaguely familiar though. She couldn't figure out why until she walked past Beaman who looked up and asked, "Isn't that the junkie Ramirez was always talking to?"

That did ring a bell. Diego Ramirez, before he got himself kicked out of the Police Academy, had always been weirdly intense whenever they talked about drug-related arrests, or when people reported overdoses, or anything like that. Eudora had always thought maybe someone close to him had overdosed, or something similar, and now he felt like he had a vested interest in those cases. But something else Eudora had noticed was that, when they got sent out to crime scenes to observe, or anything like that, several times Diego could be found in the background, talking to a certain junkie who was constantly having run-ins with the police. She'd figured the junkie had just latched onto Diego as his favorite cop (in training), which sometimes happened with repeat offenders.

She looked over the junkie she was escorting appraisingly. There was a certain resemblance: the curly dark hair, the fur-collared coat and flamboyant outfit, the thick eyeliner ringing bloodshot hazel eyes.

"I think it is." She finally got him situated on the bench and locked the cell. "He's not anywhere on file though. I guess he always managed to worm his way out of charges."

"Looks like someone really did a number on him. Must have pissed off the wrong guy or something."

Eudora tilted her head to one side. "As much as I hate to say it, maybe we should call Ramirez. If anyone knows who this guy is, it's him." She paused and then continued in a softer tone, "He looked kind of scared when I found him, like he was expecting whoever did this to come back. I'd feel better if we had a next of kin to call and release him to."

Beaman raised an eyebrow. "You actually want to ask Ramirez for help?"

"Oh shut up. It's our best option and you know it."

He shrugged. "If you say so."

Eudora rolled her eyes, but ten minutes later she was listening to the phone ring, silently begging Diego to pick up, which felt pretty pathetic, even if she was the only one to hear it. It's just that the junkie had gotten louder, practically screaming at his own hallucinations, and Eudora was far too tired for this shit.

Diego finally answered just when Eudora was sure it would go to voicemail. "Hello?"

"Ramirez," Eudora said, and no, that was not relief in her tone.

"Eudora! What's up?"

"It's Patch," she reminded him. "And . . . I need your help down at the station. We've got a junkie in who's being uncooperative and I think you might know him."

She had practically been able to hear Diego's smirk when she said she needed his help, but the vibe shifted as soon as she mentioned the junkie. "Dark hair, lanky, tattoos on his palms?"

Eudora craned her neck to look back into the cell from where she was down the hall. The junkie was waving his hands around as he talked, and she caught a glimpse of something dark on them. "Yeah."

Diego swore on the other end. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

He hung up. Well then.

Eudora got herself a coffee from the break room since it was shaping up to be an awfully long night, and went to wait by the entrance. It was only eight and half minutes later when Diego walked through the doors, looking annoyed.

"Where is he?" he asked, tone exasperated. Eudora stood up and tipped her head in the direction of the holding cell.

"So who is he?" she asked as they headed off down the hallway.

Diego hesitated. Interesting. "His name's Klaus."

"Anything else?"

Diego shrugged. "He's a total dumbass and hasn't been sober in at least a decade."

There was something in his tone Eudora couldn't quite place. Frustration, certainly, and resignation, but something else too. Fondness, maybe?

"Hey, Beaman," Diego said as they passed. Beaman nodded back, working on a crossword puzzle.

They could hear the junkie before they even got to the holding cell. He was talking loudly, almost yelling, alternating between desperation and high pitched giggles. Diego sighed and muttered "Here we go," before walking into the room.

Eudora followed closely and could tell the moment the junkie's appearance registered with Diego. His expression went from mildly annoyed to furious. She was suddenly reminded that constant fighting had been among the reasons Ramirez had been kicked out of the Police Academy. It did look pretty bad, Patch thought. The junkie-Klaus apparently-had a split lip and swollen black eye, scratches on the exposed skin of his neck, and part of his hair was matted with what was probably blood.

Diego took all of this in with a glance and strode forward to the bars. "Let me in," he demanded. Eudora was about to argue, but changed her mind when his expression softened slightly and he added "Please."

It broke all sorts of protocol, but Eudora unlocked the cell and let Diego in, stepping in after him as well. Diego walked straight to Klaus and started cataloguing his wounds, asking harshly, "What happened? Who did this?"

Klaus seemed to notice for the first time that he was no longer alone in the room, and he turned to them with a surprised expression. "Diego!" he cried, a wide grin suddenly splitting his face.

Something stirred in the back of Eudora's mind, some way that the names Diego and Klaus were connected, but she couldn't remember what it was, especially not with how tired she was. She leaned against the bars of the cell and watched as Klaus launched himself at Diego, chattering on about something that seemed to involve chocolate pudding. The way Diego sighed but ultimately allowed the hug-still clearly trying to check out Klaus's wounds-seemed far too familiar for this to just be some random junkie who'd latched onto him like she'd originally assumed. No, there was a history here, but she couldn't figure out what.

She caught a glimpse of another tattoo, this one on Klaus's arm where his sleeve was pushed up while hugging Diego. She didn't get a good look at it, but she thought it was an umbrella. The sense that there was something she should know got stronger. It was like when you forgot a word but it was on the tip of your tongue. She took another sip of her coffee. Maybe that would wake up her brain.

"I found him like this about half an hour ago," she explained to Diego. "He won't tell me what happened, or any information about himself, other than, and I quote, that he is 'the most fashionable person in this goddamned city and people should bow before him.'"

"Of course he said that." Diego finally managed to extricate himself from Klaus enough to prod at one of the bruises. Klaus pouted, but he perked up as he looked over at Eudora.

"Did you arrest me for being too fashionable, officer?" A moment later he turned to the empty space next to him, hissing. "Ben, you traitor! Diego's my favorite brother now!"

Brother? Eudora could feel her eyebrows crawling higher on her forehead. Diego looked like he kind of wanted to strangle Klaus. "Klaus, just tell us what happened to you."

"Fine! It was no biggie, really, bro. Just some guy who didn't appreciate my sparkling wit and keen color coordination."

"You're wearing all black," Diego pointed out.

Eudora thought that was definitely not the most important part of what Klaus just said, but also, fair point.

"But it's very coordinated black!"

Diego rolled his eyes. "What really happened, Klaus?"

"I told you!"

"Was it a stranger, or did you know them?" Eudora asked as gently as she could. She had her suspicions that whatever reason Klaus had to meet with his attacker, it probably hadn't been exactly legal. Her suspicions were further confirmed when Klaus continued trying to deflect.

"Well, how well does anyone really know anyone else? We're all strangers in a way."

Diego sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Patch got the impression none of this was a new occurrence. "Is this guy gonna be a problem for you again?"

Klaus slapped his hand to his chest in exaggerated indignation. "As touching as I find your bloodlust, I am offended that you assume I lost this confrontation! I learned to fight same as you!"

Diego snorted. "You could never fight for shit."

Eudora didn't get a chance to really process this new information-and there was certainly a lot to unpack there. Because at that moment Klaus stumbled forward, hand outstretched like he was trying to prove Diego wrong, but he tripped over his own feet and would have fallen if not for Diego's quick reflexes. As it was, he latched onto Diego's sleeve and the momentum pulled it forward with him, towards Diego's elbow.

As she stared at the exposed forearm, Eudora realized she had never seen Diego's bare arms before. He'd always carefully kept them covered, even in the summer. She'd always assumed it was just his attachment to his vigilante outfit, but now she thought about it, the habit went all the way back to the Police Academy, before he started wearing that getup.

He had good reason for it, though, Eudora admitted, staring at the tattoo now revealed. It all clicked in her mind and part of her wished to god it hadn't.

She could tell the moment Diego noticed his arm was exposed because he went tense, tugging his sleeve down even as he hauled Klaus to feet. His movements happened to put himself fully between Klaus and Eudora, effectively shielding the other man. The action was so quick and fluid that Eudora figured it could only come with practice, and seemed more instinctive than consciously thought out.

"Maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere more private," she said, suddenly very aware of the open door leading to the hallway.

Diego nodded stiffly and followed Eudora out of the room, guiding Klaus, who was stumbling along after them. She led them to an empty conference room and closed the door.

Klaus immediately sprawled out in one of the chairs, propping his feet up on the table. Eudora sat down across from him, and Diego hovered for a moment before choosing the seat next to Klaus. He remained tense and very uncomfortable, which was odd to see from Diego, who usually treated the station like he belonged there.

She tried to figure out where to start. It was hard to wrap her mind around the idea that Diego, who she'd known for years and was a giant dork, was actually a former superhero. Seriously—Diego Ramirez—a superhero? Oh, well, that was probably a pretty good place to start.

"Your name isn't actually Ramirez, is it?"

Diego scoffed. "My name isn't even Diego, technically."

That was not what she expected, and she felt immediately off-balance. "What?"

"Legally, my name is Number Two." He tipped his head towards Klaus. "He's Number Four."

There was a sinking feeling in her gut. Surely that couldn't be true. "I thought that was just an Umbrella Academy thing, like your superhero names or something before the media gave you new ones."

Klaus let out a bark of laughter, but it was hard to tell whether or not it was related to the current conversation. Diego was wearing a bitter smile. "No. The old man just couldn't be bothered to give us actual names. Our mom named us when we were six, but until then we were just called by our numbers." He paused. "Dad still just calls us by our numbers."

"That's . . . ." She didn't even have words to describe how utterly horrifying that was.

"Impractical?" Klaus suggested when she trailed off. He was apparently trying to see how far back he could tip the chair before he fell. "Do you have any idea how annoying it is to learn math when your names are numbers?"

"Like you ever paid attention to math anyway," Diego muttered.

Klaus shrugged. "Yeah, 'cause it was annoying."

Eudora was still trying to process the knowledge that the people sitting in front of her didn't even have names. They had numbers. But there were other things to focus on, and if Klaus was making light of it like this, maybe it was a sign she shouldn't try to make a big deal over it. But still—numbers. What kind of monster do you have to be to do that?

"Why didn't you tell me?" That's what was really bothering her, had been since she saw the tattoo, though she hated to admit it. She and Diego had been close-were still close, really, however much she tried to deny it. He knew everything about her but hadn't thought to mention this even once?

"Because I left." Diego wouldn't meet her eyes. He stared out the window instead, looking like he'd rather be doing anything other than working through his feelings about his shitty childhood. She didn't blame him, but she also wanted to know. "I'm not-I needed to just be m-me."

Klaus let his chair settle back onto four legs, looking over at Diego. It was the most serious Eudora had seen him since she found him on the street tonight. She herself wanted nothing more at this moment than to comfort Diego, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate it right then, especially since he looked like he was still trying to find the right words to answer her question. She took another sip of her coffee to distract herself and grimaced. Cold.

"I used a fake name when I entered the Police Academy because I wanted to make it on my own terms. After that," he shrugged, "I just didn't want anyone to look at me differently."

She didn't have anything to say to that. She could assure him no one would look at him differently, wanted to assure him of that, but it would ultimately be a lie. Sure, he was still the same Diego she'd known all along, but it would probably take a few weeks for her to reconcile it with this new information. Klaus reached out and placed a hand on Diego's arm comfortingly. Diego looked like he was considering stabbing it with a knife, but ultimately he allowed it.

Eudora set her now cold coffee to the side and crossed her arms on the table. She glanced between Klaus and Diego, trying to figure out what exactly to say. "Well," she said finally, slowly. Diego looked up, vulnerable in a way she rarely saw him. "This does explain a lot."

"Like what?" Diego sounded almost indignant.

Where to start, Eudora thought. The resistance to talking about his past, his vigilante gig and weird mask, his crazy accurate aim. "You said you were an only child," she settled on, "but you always gave off the vibe that you grew up with siblings."

"Well you should, you had six of us!" Klaus chuckled.

"Six siblings? I thought there were only six of you total?" She was pretty certain of that, actually.

"In the Umbrella Academy, yes." Diego explained. "Our sister Vanya doesn't have any powers, so she wasn't part of it."

Eudora thought that sounded awfully lonely, and really just awful period. The more she learned about everything, the more uncomfortable she felt for ever having been so excited over the Umbrella Academy. God, they were just kids, and they went through so much shit.

"You know an awful lot about us," Klaus pointed out, a slow smile growing on his face. "Are you a fan?"

Eudora thought about the three Umbrella Academy posters she'd had in her bedroom until the second year of the Police Academy, when the novelty of superheroes her own age had worn off and she'd realized how fucked up the situation was-sending teenagers in to fight grown adults. She hadn't been able to get rid of them altogether, though. They were probably still in her parents' attic. She tried not to let any of this show on her face as she answered with a cautious, "It'd be impossible to grow up in this city and not know about the Umbrella Academy," but she failed if Klaus's delight was any indication.

"Do you have a favorite?" Klaus leaned forward on his hand and grinned. "Pray tell."

Allison, to be honest, if for no other reason than she was the only girl. But she'd warmed to Klaus over the past hour and decided to play along. "Well," she leaned forward to match him, "there's certainly something to be said for the Kraken, but," she smirked and, still addressing Klaus, turned her eyes to Diego, "I think the Séance might be my favorite."

Klaus's grin threatened to split his face in two, and he turned to Diego as well, triumphantly. Diego shook his head but there was a hint of a smile on his face. Patch's smirk softened into a genuine smile. She glanced at the clock and realized it was past midnight.

"It's late," she said. "We can talk about this some other time." She knew for a fact that Diego was not going to discuss this with her again, but she had the answers she really needed. And the relief on his face was worth it. Maybe she hadn't known this specific fact, but she still knew Diego, and that would be enough for her. She motioned to Klaus. "If I release him to you, can you keep him out of trouble?"

"I think we all know that would be impossible," Diego said, and Klaus didn't even bother pretending to be offended. "But I'll do my best."

"Great!" Klaus jumped up. "Are we leaving? Can you drop me off at the Waffle House? I'm starving."

Diego and Eudora stood as well. "No," Diego said. "You're coming home with me for tonight. And you're not taking anymore drugs."

Klaus ignored that last part. "Oh, can we cuddle? We haven't cuddled in forever!"

Diego looked like he already regretted agreeing to take Klaus. Eudora tried to hide a laugh behind her hand. "He's a great cuddler," Klaus leaned in and stage whispered to her.

"I know," she whispered back, unable to hide her grin. Diego made a betrayed noise while Klaus cackled. He surprised Eudora by throwing his arms around her in a quick hug before sauntering out of the room, leaving Diego and Eudora alone for a moment.

"I should probably follow him," Diego said. "Make sure he doesn't burn the place down while unsupervised."

Eudora put a hand on Diego's arm. "Take care of yourself. And him." It seemed inadequate, given the situation, but she didn't know what else to say. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I always did like the Kraken."

She left him there and went to find Klaus, who was wandering around the bullpen attempting to chat up various officers. Diego emerged a minute later, a little flustered, and herded Klaus out, offering one final wave back at Eudora. She watched them leave, fiddling with the rabbit foot in her pocket. This was certainly not how she'd expected this night to go. She knew it would take her a while to really come to terms with this new knowledge, but she'd get there.

And in the meantime, she really needed more coffee.