Six tugged at the collar of the new uniform Dad had given them.

He hated it. They were uncomfortable and, while it was apparently Kevlar lined, the shiny black material made him feel ridiculous. He didn't understand why they couldn't keep wearing their uniforms, at least then they didn't have to wrestle with zips and straps when the mission alarm went off. All they had to do was put on a mask; now he felt like he was at war with his own clothes.

"Six." Four groaned, walking into his room. "Can you help me? I think I've gone wrong somewhere and Dad's timing us again."

"If I knew how these things fastened, sure." He groaned as he continued to struggle with his own uniform, twisting his arm left and right. "But right now I think this sleeve is wrong – it feels wrong."

"Six!" Four continued to complain, showing Six the back of his neck. "Just finish zipping me in. I've already screwed up once today, I need to get downstairs before everyone else."

"I think none of us are going anywhere in a hurry." Six grumbled, harshly tugging on his sleeve. "What is up with this thing?"

"Hey, Six..." Seven called out with the worst possible timing, hovering in his doorway.

"Not now Seven." He snapped back.

"You can't come on missions." Four echoed, trying to contort his arm to reach the zip on his back.

She didn't say another word and Six didn't need to look to see she was gone.

"Look, just pull my sleeve down for me then I might actually be able to lift my arm high enough to zip you up." Six compromised.

Four quickly seized his sleeve and yanked down as hard of he could, pulling out the bunched-up fabric near his shoulder.

"Perfect. Come here."

Six seized the zip and wrenched it up.

"Now let's get downstairs before he throws a fit."

Four was hot on Six's heels as they dashed towards the lobby where Dad was waiting with a stopwatch in hand.

Father was frowning intently as he waited for them to assemble, his monocle almost ready to pop from the folds of his skin.

One and Three were already waiting. Five teleported into position before Four and Six could take their places. Two was the last to arrive, his whole sleeve twisted in the wrong direction, coming to a stop with an almighty scowl on his face.

"Where's the mission, Father?" Number One asked once they were all assembled.

"There is no mission." Reginald replied harshly. "And it is a good thing there was not. In the time you took to assemble, if there had been any lives at stake, they would have been lost. We will keep practicing until you can be ready on time. Return to your rooms and change into your uniforms. Grace is waiting for you to start today's lessons."

Reginald left the room. The Umbrella Academy stood rooted where he had left them.

"What is w-wrong with these sleeves?" Two suddenly exclaimed, trying to yank on the material again.

"I know." Six grumbled, his left arm still feeling uncomfortable compared to the right.

"You heard him, let's get back upstairs." One commanded, leading the way up the staircase.

Five took a deep breath before following, teleporting to the top of the staircase then walking the rest of the way to their rooms.

Six unzipped the back of Four's neck before they parted ways, since he couldn't reach on his own.

It was a relief to get back into his uniform; perhaps the first time Six had ever felt anything close to gratitude for their standard-issue clothes. After having his arm trapped in the suit, having his knees bare to the world actually felt liberating for once.

Once they were ready, they trudged to the classroom – all of them annoyed for differing reasons.

The classroom held seven desks, arranged in a semi-circle around a blackboard Mom was standing before. Seven was already in her seat, eyes focused on her open notebook. As he sat beside her, he noticed she had already written the date and underlined her title for today's session.

"Okay, children." Grace started, once they all got settled in their seats. "Today we will be covering continuing our lesson on the American Civil War."

Six had always found lessons' engaging, preferring them to training sessions and field missions. This morning, however, they were all too keyed up, angry or hurt to pay Grace much attention and it was showing. She called them to attention as much as she could, and they all redoubled their efforts out of fear she would report them to Reginald. No matter how much he tried though, Six did not follow Grace's explanation of the pre-war territorial crisis. He'd never excelled at history, much preferring their literature lessons.

His notes were painfully thin by the time they drew to a close for training, with an assignment to complete by Friday, and Six rushed after Seven in the hopes she would share her more detailed notes with him.

He stopped her on the staircase.

"Hey, Seven. Do you think I could have a look at your notes, I got a little lost in there?"

"Sure." Seven said, pushing her history notebook into his arms.

Six accepted the book and reorganised the stack in his arms to accommodate it. When he looked back up it surprised him to see Seven's back as she hurried away, as they would usually walk back to their rooms together. He hastened after her again, wondering if something was wrong, but was stopped by Four before he could catch up.

"Are we meant to wear those new uniforms to training?" He asked.

"Err, yeah. I think so."

"You think we're meant to wear the new uniforms? Or you know we're meant to wear the new uniforms? Because I don't want to turn up to training and be the only one wearing it. I'd look like an idiot." Four said.

"Yeah." Six replied, shutting the door to his room in his brother's face.

"Rude!" Four shouted.

Changing again, Six took care to get his arms in the sleeves and then went straight to Four's room to see if he needed help. Seeing Two in there already, practically foaming at the mouth, as he tried to get a determinedly unhelpful Four into his gear, Six carried on to Seven's room.

Knocking on the door, he pushed his way inside.

"Seven?"

She was sitting in her desk chair with an open book in front of her. The chair legs were still too high for her, and the toes of her shoes scuffed the floor as she aimlessly kicked them back and forth.

"Hey, Six." She greeted aimlessly, not taking her eyes off the page. Watching her closely he realised she wasn't reading, her eyes remaining stationary on one word.

"I was just wondering what you wanted to talk about earlier?"

"Nothing important."

Her tone was light but not convincing.

"Oh, come on. You've got me curious now." Six encouraged.

"I was just going to ask if you had anything new I could read?" Seven shrugged, picking up his copy of The Aeneid which he'd only finished two days ago. "And to give you this back."

"You finished it already?" Six said incredulously, taking the book from her outstretched hand. "It took me ages to read it."

"I enjoyed it." Seven said. "Plus I have more spare time than you."

"I thought you were working on a new piece of music?" Six asked, conscious of the passing time as Number One hurried past him. He tried to ignore the judgemental look his brother sent him, well aware that Dad was waiting for them downstairs.

She looked surprised that he remembered and confirmed that she was. "But I can only practise for so long before the strings cut into my fingers."

"Doesn't that hurt?"

"No, it's okay. I have calluses now so it takes longer before I risk that, and I stop if it hurts."

Two dashed past him.

"I need to go. But after we finish training do you think you can help me with that exercise Mom set for history? I'm falling behind and need all the help I can get. Plus I have a new book you can borrow. In fact I got a new one today, you can read it first!"

Seven looked flustered by the offer. "T-that's okay, Six. I can wait, I'll just read something old until you're finished with it."

"No it's fine. You read faster than me, anyway. I'll see you this afternoon." He promised, turning around and dashing out of the room.

Thankfully one-to-one training for the day was centred on Three, who was practising her powers on Mom while Dad monitored the effectiveness of her abilities on non-organic life forms. That left the brothers in group training. Today it was an obstacle course around the room with the strict instruction they were to complete it without utilising their powers. Easier said than done, especially once One got frustrated by Two's attempts to outdo him.

He tugged the rope Dad told them to climb too roughly and put a crack in the ceiling's plaster.

"Oh, good job Number One." Five jabbed, going for the second rope which he scaled with ease.

The rest of them forced One to climb last since he had slowed them down by whittling them down to one rope.

Their attempts at teamwork improved briefly while going over the climbing wall, One linking his hands together and launching them over to the other side. For running however, their competitive streaks took over. One and Two determined to beat each other, and both of them determined to beat Five on the one day he wasn't allowed to win by teleporting.

Six tried to keep up with One. Four on the other hand was perfectly content at being last.

While Six hated daily training as much as any member of the Umbrella Academy, he wished Four would put more effort into it. As the only member of the team without a power that could protect him in the field, Six wished Four would apply himself more when it came to physical exercises and hand-to-hand combat training. Six had nearly been stabbed by a robber the other week because he'd been so preoccupied looking out for his brother.

They raced again after training, trying to get to the showers first. Five won, of course, and, if his triumphant cry was anything to go by, Two managed to snag the second bathroom. One was next in line, although he stepped backwards to allow Three to go before him.

Accepting he wasn't getting washed in a hurry, Six went back to Seven to see how she had spent the rest of the morning. He didn't expect to find her in the same place he had left her, and had to fight an unexpected flare of annoyance that she had simply sat and stared into space while Dad ran the rest of them ragged.

"Six." She said, offering a tiny smile which failed to reach her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He easily smiled back, any irritation he had felt evaporating. "There's a queue for the showers so I thought I'd come see you instead."

"Did you want me to talk you through what we learnt in history today? Unless you'd rather wait until this afternoon?"

"No, that's a good idea. If we get it out of the way we can read later instead."

The pair squeezed onto the one desk chair – Seven kindly refraining from commenting on the strong smell of sweat as they pressed against each other's side.

Flipping the textbook open to the right chapter, she asked where he had gotten lost.

"Hmm, well I understood about the expansion into the West and how that caused a problem deciding if the new states should make slavery legal or not," Six said, "but I got lost when she went through the compromise."

"The Compromise of 1850." Seven corrected, finding the relevant page. "It's simple, here."

It was straightforward when Seven explained it. Six wasn't sure if it was because Grace had a tendency to over-complicate her lessons with excessive information, or if he could better concentrate with Seven. Either way he felt more confident about completing the assignment later, especially after Seven let him read through her already finished work.

"Thank you, Seven." He said. "I don't know how you remember all of this stuff, I seem to forget it as soon as the lesson is over."

"I'm surprised, I would have thought you'd enjoy it given how much you love to read. History is a lot like literature." Seven stated. "But instead of the stories being fake, they're real. All of these people," she continued, turning the pages and pointing to images in the book, "are real. And they did incredible things which made a real difference. History is learning their stories. And, unlike characters who are confined to one book, the resources for some of these people are limitless."

"Who's your favourite?" He asked, amused by her enthusiasm.

"In this book? Mary Edwards Walker. She's the only woman to receive the Medal of Honor. I think she's fierce." Seven said, a nervous smile blooming with the declaration.

"I look forward to reading about her." Six said, surprised by his sincerity. He hardly ever looked forward to reading through the history books.

"Six," Five exhaled, waving a hand in front of his face as he entered the room, "go get a shower. You're an affront on Seven's senses."

Seven giggled and Six shot her an accusing look. "Oh I see how it is. Now Five's here you're ganging up on me!"

"If it gets you in the bathroom, yes." Five answered. "Now get going or you'll be late to lunch and, if Dad makes you go the rest of the day without food, don't expect me to risk jumping into the kitchens for you tonight."

He didn't take Five's threat seriously; if Dad deprived him of his dinner Seven would no doubt plead his case, and he'd have a sandwich on his bedside table before light's out.

Maybe Seven had a superpower after all; the power to make Five nice to his other siblings.

"I'm going." Six said, sliding off the chair.

Despite Five's warnings he arrived at the table on time, his hair still damp but it would dry soon enough. Often he brought a book with him to the table, but he'd already promised his newest edition to Seven.

Today's lecture was about some war or other and he tried to focus on it as he tucked into his lunch. He was vaguely aware that to his right Four had devoured his sandwich within a few seconds and seemed to be exerting a lot of energy trying to stay still in his seat while he waited for everyone else to catch up.

He tried not to look over at him, sure it could only get him in trouble.

Once they were dismissed Six learnt why his brother was so excited; he'd found a twenty-dollar bill on the street while they were on a mission that Monday and today he'd decided, with Number Two, that the money was going on sweets. Specifically, donuts.

"I want to be the one who asks the others." Four said, glancing around him to make sure no one was listening. They only had a few moments to themselves between Mom washing the dishes and calling them into the classroom. "So keep it to yourself for now."

"Fine, I won't say a word." Six agreed. It was easy to agree; the thought of Four's plan terrified him and he wanted to keep his hands as clean as possible. They'd gotten away with the excursion to Griddy's once, but he thought they were pushing their luck to try again. They would get caught this time and Dad would be so angry.

They had an hour of science after mealtime, before the team once again returned to training. Seven remained in the classroom, pulling out a French-English dictionary as the others filed out one by one.

"See you later." Six muttered. His sister responded with a tight smile.

Six wondered whether Seven would join them tonight. Three said she hadn't wanted to come the first time they snuck out, although he suspected Three didn't ask her properly. She'd only asked Number Seven because Five had forced her to. Five should have spoken to Seven about it but he thought she'd appreciate the invitation more from Three.

Six would ask her this time. If they went. Which he still largely hoped they wouldn't. While the donuts had been delicious, it didn't seem worth the risk of incurring Father's wrath. Even the thought of Pogo or Mom catching them, staring down at them with an air of disappointment, made his stomach churn.

Yet they were going to go. Four confirmed it later that afternoon.

"Dad is going out tonight, we've just got to get around Pogo. So we'll use the fire escape."

"What if he checks the rooms?" Six asked nervously.

Four's offhanded shrug did nothing to ease his concern. "Just stuff your pillows under the blankets so it looks like you're in there."

"I've still got to ask Five and Seven." Four continued. "Now, do you think Five will be better at convincing Seven to go, or should I go to Seven first so she can convince Five?"

"Tell them that the other has already agreed, then they'll go."

"Good plan. Sneaky plan." Four said approvingly. "Nice one, Six. I'll go talk to Five after we finish training. Then I can catch Ven before dinner."

Five didn't need any convincing to agree to the plan. As Dad had pushed him extra hard during the afternoon's training session, he had evidentially been left in a rebellious mood.

"Yeah, all right. I'll go." He agreed. "Is everyone else in?"

"Yep."

"Even Seven?" Five asked sceptically.

"Yep."

"Four."

"Yes."

Five maintained eye contact and Four broke.

"Fine, I haven't asked her yet. I was about to though, I swear. Wasn't I, Six? Six will tell you."

"He was. In fact, why don't we all go now?" Six encouraged, not wanting to continue this conversation downstairs where Father or Pogo could spring up behind them at any second.

"Be nice." Five warned Four as they headed upstairs.

"I'm always nice."

"Yesterday you told her she chewed like an overactive beaver."

"Beaver's are cute – that was definitely a compliment." Four argued.

Five and Six shared an exasperated glance, well aware that Number Seven had not taken the comment as a compliment.

Usually Six would knock before entering any of his sibling's rooms, but Five walked in like he owned the place and took a seat on her bed.

It must be something Seven was used to as she barely looked up from her sheet music when she spotted him. The other two, however, brought the piece to a screeching end.

"Yikes, Ven." Four complained, rubbing his ears.

Seven grimaced apologetically, still holding her violin and bow in hand looking unsure of what to do as the three settled in her room.

They all waited in silence for a second before Five rolled his eyes and took over the conversation.

"We're going for donuts tonight. You're coming this time."

"Oh, but..."

"Nope." Five cut her off. "What time are we leaving Four?"

"Ten thirty."

"Excellent. I'll be here at ten fifteen so you'd better be ready." Five told Seven. She was barely able to hold out ten seconds under Five's stern glare before she jerked her head in agreement. "We'll sneak out past Pogo, so make sure you turn your light off and keep quiet until it's time to leave."

"Okay."

"Was there anything else?" Five asked, glancing at Four.

"No. Just that we're meeting at ten thirty in Number One's room."

"Remember to wrap up warm, Ven. It's cold at night." Six reminded.

"I'll go ask Three what I should wear." Four announced. "She hates being reminded that I have normal clothes and she doesn't."

"I'll just go get that book, Ven." Six promised, following Four out the room.

This week Pogo's recommended read was a play called A Doll's House. It was a very thin book and Six knew Seven would devour it within a day. He hoped she enjoyed it more than Treasure Island – he'd given her it a few weeks ago and she hadn't liked that one at all. Though, being Number Seven, she had attempted to point out all of its redeeming features even as she scowled at the pages.

When he arrived back in her room, the door open as he'd left it, he was surprised to find Five and Seven talking quietly to each other on the bed – wrapped up in their own world. The normally sardonic Number Five was speaking gently and had a hand on Seven's shoulder, whose face remained stoic while her eyes seemed to shine with unshed tears.

"It'll be all right, Seven. I'll be there. So will Six."

Six, whose reappearance had gone unnoticed, tapped on the doorframe to draw their attention back to him.

"Are you okay, V?"

Mumbling in affirmation, Seven shuffled away from Five looking embarrassed. She was the only one, Five looked more annoyed than bashful.

Holding the book up to his chest, almost like a shield from Five's glare, Six asked if Seven still wanted to read with him.

"Yes, please."

"Five?" Six asked politely.

"No." He replied tersely. "Thank you. I think I'll go work on that history paper now."

Five turned to look at Seven one more time, silently asking after her and receiving a nod in return. Six watched the exchange, taking Five's place on the bed once the door had been closed.

He stretched out his left arm for Seven to settle into his side and they each took half of the book in their hands to hold between them.

"What's it about?"

"I'm not sure. We'll find out, I guess." Six said dubiously. He wasn't a great lover of plays but if he didn't read them he'd never learn about them, as Father certainly wouldn't take them to a theatre house to see them performed. "Pogo says it's good."

"He said that about Treasure Island too."

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked as they glanced over the character list.

"Yeah."

"Because you don't seem to be." Six pushed.

"I'm nervous about tonight." She admitted as Six turned them to the first page. "I worry I'll ruin everything."

"You won't. We'll have fun." Six reassured, even if he wasn't so sure of that himself.

They focused on the page.

Seven always finished first and would tap the top left corner twice with her finger when she did as a signal to him that she was ready whenever he was.

This time it was Six tapping the top right corner.

"Oh. I finished it already, Six. You can turn the page." She said absently after a moment.

They made their way through the first act before dinner and partway through the second that evening. They were both enjoying it, Seven making the occasional sympathetic noise or comment over Nora's plot. Six was more grateful for the distraction it provided, though his stomach was still in turmoil as the evening drew in.

The first time they had snuck out it hadn't seen as big of a risk. Dad and Pogo were both away and Mom was charging. They'd been able to go out the front door and no one was any the wiser. This time Mom would be up, Pogo would roam the halls, and they had to go down the fire escape without being seen. If they could pull it off it would be a minor miracle, and the older Six got the less he believed in miracles.

Seven grew equally restless as the time came for them to ready themselves for bed and they abandoned the book.

"Should we get into our pyjamas?" Seven asked.

"Yeah." Six agreed, eager to move and do something other than sit and worry. "We don't want to make Pogo suspicious."

Whether Pogo believed their acts of nonchalance, Six wasn't sure. He felt like he had guilt branded across his forehead in a starker fashion than the tattoo inked into his skin.

The children went through the motions of wishing Mother and Pogo goodnight, fighting for a space over the sink to brush their teeth and saying goodnight to one another as they closed their bedroom doors. Then each of them had nothing to do but wait in their rooms for over an hour before they could tiptoe out of the house.

Six waited until Pogo had gone up and down the hallway before changing back into his uniform, pulling on two pairs of socks to keep his legs warm and digging out his scarf, gloves and hat from the dresser. While spring had mercifully arrived, the evenings still felt as cold as a winters day and Six didn't want to spend the entire evening with his teeth chattering.

He wanted to pace the floors but refrained, keeping seated on his bed. With nothing to do, as he couldn't turn the lights back on, he soon found himself swimming in anxiety waiting for the hand to finally drag itself past ten and towards the half hour. The night felt claustrophobic, and Six practically jumped out of his skin when his door opened.

"Four?" He hissed. "You shouldn't be here – it's not time yet. Pogo is still awake."

"I couldn't sit in there any longer." Four said uncomfortably.

It was no secret the middle sibling had a fear of the dark, so Six refrained from chastising him further.

"What are you going to get at Griddy's?" Six asked, trying to extricate themselves from the darker recesses of their minds.

"Chocolate frosted. You?"

"Hmm, I think cinnamon sugar. I didn't try it last time though, I hope I like it."

Four bumped his shoulder as he sat down. "Well, if you don't, I'll finish it for you."

"How very generous." Six said laconically.

If they gave him half the chance Four would probably keep eating donuts until he spewed frosting all over their shoes.

"I like to think so. How many donuts do you think I can get with twenty dollars?"

"I'm sure they'll be plenty for all of us."

"Yeah. Maybe I shouldn't have invited everybody, I think it could be funny trying to eat ten dollars worth of donuts each."

"I could barely stop myself from puking last time, and I only had three."

"They're good though."

"Yeah – I wish Mom could make them at home." Six said.

"But then going to Griddy's wouldn't be special." Four countered.

"I think it's the company that matters more than the food, Four."

"No, it's getting an hour of freedom from this place. I can't wait until I'm old enough to leave, and when I am, I'll never come back. I'll learn how to drive a car and then we can road trip to the other side of the country."

"Maybe we could find somewhere quiet enough that there wouldn't be any ghosts around?" Six suggested.

Four snorted derisively. "I don't think there's anywhere in the world quiet enough to give me that."

"I don't know. Maybe in Alaska. Or on some uninhabited island." Six mused.

"Nah, knowing my luck there'd be a random guy who'd been stranded and died there – and he would just yammer at me day and night about how nobody ever came back for him. Besides, who wants to live on an uninhabited island?" Four said.

Six wouldn't say no.

"I think I need to go somewhere so loud it drowns everything else out. With lots of lights on, all the time."

"You mean like Vegas?" Six said, unimpressed with the direction Four's planning of their future was going.

"I was going to say Reno, but your idea is way better." Four said. "Look, it's nearly ten thirty. Let's go."

Four peeped around the doorframe and, after ensuring there was no Pogo or an exodus of siblings already out in the hallway, he gestured to Six to follow him to Number One's room.

Two and Three were already in there – having snuck in before the designated time.

"Where are the o-others?" Two muttered impatiently as the door shut.

"Dude, relax. It's not even time yet." Four waved him off.

The door softly opened a few minutes later, Five gently pushing Seven into the room and closing the door again. Seven had been bundled in so many layers it was a wonder she could walk under the weight of them all. She had two hats on, whereas Five had none, so Six presumed it was his closest figure who had insisted she wrap up warm.

Two demanded to be the first down the fire escape, followed by Numbers Three, One and Four.

Seven looked out the window a little nervously as it became her turn to descend.

"You'll be fine." Five reassured.

"Yeah," Six hastened to agree, "besides, you're wearing so many clothes even if you fell you'd bounce."

Six was convinced to go next so he could catch Seven if she fell forwards, and Five followed closely behind her. He left the window open just wide enough that their hands could fit under the frame when they came back.

As Seven was the only one who hadn't been to the donut shop before, she hung back in the crowd and allowed everyone else to confidently lead the way.

Once inside Griddy's, Four strode up to the counter with the crumpled twenty in hand, and asked the waitress for an assortment of however many donuts he could afford to buy with it.

The woman looked at them all a little suspiciously, seven thirteen-year-olds in school uniforms wandering the streets at night probably warranted suspicion, but she took the money regardless and promised to bring everything over in a minute.

While the tables were bigger, Four insisted they squeeze into a booth and – as he was paying – everyone had to listen for once.

Six went in first, followed by Four, Seven and Five, all squishing themselves together on one row. Two, Three and One went on the opposite bench, with only slightly more room between them.

"Well this is cosy." Six sighed, his right arm crushed against the wall while his ribs suffered an invasion by Four's elbow.

"Here, I'll get a chair." Five volunteered, pulling one to the head of the table and sitting on it to free up more room.

"So where was Dad going tonight?" Three asked, twirling a curl between her fingers.

There was a consensus around the table that no one knew. Dad didn't exactly run things by them.

"You mean h-he didn't t-tell you? His Number One?" Two teased, laughing as One's ears turned pink.

"Shut up, Two. He didn't tell you either."

The waitress deposited a platter of assorted donuts before them. It was safe to say Four's earlier concerns were unfounded, there was more than enough for the seven of them.

"Enjoy." The waitress said dully, listlessly returning to behind the counter.

Everyone was deciding which donut to take first when Three set her sights on Seven.

"You won't have had a donut before, will you Seven?" She asked, poised to make a suggestion.

"I brought her one last time." Five said, taking a plain jelly-filled donut.

"Me too." Six said, grabbing a cinnamon sugar to try. It wasn't too bad, he decided as he bit into it, but not as nice as the strawberry-frosted donuts he had favoured last time.

He pointed at one on the platter and suggested to Seven she try it.

"They're really good."

She took a bite and grinned wider than he had ever seen her smile before. He took that as a sign of approval.

Four was piling the donuts he wanted on a napkin.

"You're gonna puke if you eat all of those." Six told him, knowing full well he would be ignored.

"I accept your challenge." Four said with all seriousness, setting to work.

"Dude if you vomit on m-me..." Two said in a way Six supposed was intended to be menacing.

"Dude," Four drawled, "you have frosting on your nose."

Two swiped his face and grimaced as he came away with a dollop of chocolate frosting.

On that evening no one puked, although Six felt the eldritch creatures stir uncomfortably as they ambled back towards the house.

Four was on a major sugar high and was skipping ahead, with a tight grip of Three's hand to drag her alongside him. One marched to keep up, with Two was attempting to imitate him straight face and all – however he kept barking out a laugh every other step, unable to control himself.

"My stomach hurts." Seven moaned, even though she had eaten the least out of everyone.

"Nearly home." Five consoled, urging her to keep walking.

"What time is it?" Six asked uneasily. He'd kept one eye on the clock throughout their visit and even though they had left as soon as their platter of donuts was empty, he worried that they'd stayed out too long.

"Eleven twenty." Five informed him. "It's fine, we're not getting caught."

"Caught?" Seven interjected apprehensively, the only word of the boy's conversation that she had heard.

"We're not getting caught." Five said, his voice more soothing when directed at Seven than it had been to Six. "Besides. If Dad is waiting up for us, I'll teleport you upstairs so he won't know you were there too. I'm about fifty percent sure I can do it without you losing a limb."

"You're gonna save Seven and leave the rest of us to get thrown under the bus?" Six asked incredulously.

"Saving Seven could comprise losing a limb, Six. I wouldn't feel jealous." Seven muttered, though Five's promise seemed to have eased her fears.

One went up the fire escape first, holding the window open from the fire escape as he ushered everyone else inside.

They decided from there they should take it in turns returning to their individual rooms, so as not to draw too much attention.

Number Three went first after thanking Four for the treat, peeking her head outside before scuttling off to her room. Her door audibly shut behind her so the rest waited several minutes before attempting to leave again.

Two went next. As the sugar wore off, he'd grown increasingly sluggish and One was determined he wasn't staying in his room for the night.

"I should get to go next. Tonight was my idea." Four said, raising his hand. The others hushed him but agreed it was best he went before he got the giggles again.

"Five why don't you just jump?" One asked, getting annoyed by how long it was taking everyone to get out of his room.

"Not until everyone's back in their rooms without being caught." He replied, looking up from One's model planes which he'd been idly toying with.

"Seven and I will go at the same time." Six said decided, knowing how fast arguments could break out between One and – well One and anyone, but Five was the best at getting under his skin.

"We will?" Seven asked anxiously. Their rooms were the furthest from One's and the closest to Pogo's.

"Yeah." Six said with more confidence than he felt. He linked their arms together, hoping they could each give the other the reassurance they needed to get back to their beds.

"Go carefully." Five warned, hovering in the doorway to watch their progress before jumping to his own room.

Six was slowly leading Seven to her bedroom when a creak in the stairs forced them to hurry, Six shutting himself inside Seven's room where they both stood in silence beside the door too scared to move.

There were some shuffled footsteps however no raised voices were heard and eventually the figure retreated. The pair sighed lightly in relief.

"Do you want to stay here?" Seven asked.

"No I need to go get changed, I can't get found in my uniform." Six sighed. He would have much rather stayed with Seven; after all the sugar and anxiety surrounding their excursion he felt too keyed up to sleep and would have liked to keep reading A Doll's House with her. "I'll wait a minute to make sure it's all clear, then I'll go."

Seven agreed. He turned to face the door so she could get changed, softly laughing when he finally turned around and saw how badly the hats had messed up her hair.

"All right." She muttered. Seven attempted to tame her static hair, however it seemed determined to crackle around her. "I didn't even want to wear a hat, but Five seems to think I can't handle a light breeze."

"It was cold." Six said in his brother's defence. His own raw hands were a testament to that. Four had commandeered his gloves at the diner, having failed to wrap up for the weather.

"Hmm." Seven exhaled, getting under her sheets. She patted the space beside her and, after pulling off his shoes, Six sat. "It's nice that someone in this house cares, but sometimes it reminds me of how much weaker I am then the rest of you."

"You're not weak." Six refuted. "You're just like any other thirteen-year-old. We're the freaks of nature, here."

He could tell he hadn't cheered her up, but he was too anxious about getting back to his own room to think of anything truly comforting to say.

While Five liked to try and hand Seven off to Six when she was upset or frustrated, Six never quite knew what to say to her. He liked to think she knew that he cared but, while Five would never admit it to himself, Six didn't understand the inner workings of Seven's mind in quite the same way as his brother did. Six could sometimes say the wrong thing when he was being offhanded. Five was never offhanded, thinking everything through carefully, usually aware how Seven would react.

Six was better with Four, who could easily be comforted by a hug, a silly face or an inappropriate joke. Four always simply stated when he was happy or upset or scared or angry. With Seven it felt like she wasn't even a hundred percent sure how she was feeling.

"Are we going to keep reading tomorrow?" Seven asked quietly.

"Of course. Reading with you is the best – no one else will read these things with me. I can only get Four to read if it's a comic book." Six said, rolling his eyes slightly. It never failed to surprise him that the brother he seemingly shared the least with had ended up as his best friend.

"Thanks, Six. I enjoy reading with you too." Seven said happily.

"I'll let you sleep now, it's late." Six excused, standing from the bed.

"Good luck, Six."

"Thanks, Seven. And hey, you wouldn't really have jumped with Five and left me to face Dad on my own would you?"

Seven shook her head. "No, I wouldn't leave you."

Grinning, Six stole out of the room and hastened back to his own with a held breath and his heart lodged in his throat. He could only breathe again once he was in his pyjamas and under his own blankets.

I have done so much writing this month I think I'm getting carpel tunnel - I'm closing in on 50,000 words editing for my book (all uploaded to Inkitt if anyone is interested in giving it a read), I wrote this (chapter two is already done too (I started the second chapter first because I'm weird like that) and the third chapter has been started), and then I've been writing for work. I'm glad I was able to get another TUA story done this month, I still love these characters and love writing them. As always let me know what you think - Ben's new for me and I'm unsure how well I characterised him. I know in her book Vanya said he was quite nervous as a child.

The next chapter is going to be a lot more introspective, as I expect from adult Ben. I hope to get it published sometime next week. Have a good weekend 3