Chapter Text
1
When Vanya and Diego were eight they took a book on ASL from the library. It was old and faded and they’d had to stack two chairs in order to reach it. She'd watched the door while he climbed up, knowing that if they were caught there would be consequences. They’d learned sign together, sitting in one of Sir’s big armchairs, the red ones that made them feel like grownups. He’d put his arm around her shoulders so they could read together. He was her first friend. In class they’d sign short messages, talking about Number Two’s training or one of Number Seven’s books. Once in science he’d spelled butthead in sign and pointed at Luther. Vanya thought she’d choke on her stifled laughter. He’d smiled, a little.
A week later, Number One caught them during math and told Sir. He’d made Number Two train until he passed out. Number Seven was shut in her room and wasn’t allowed to eat for two days. Number 4, tiny, eight year old Klaus, had done his best. He made plastic baggies of stolen food for both of them, with notes covered in stickers, found an adventure book for Seven and a squished box of bandaids for Two’s many cuts. He’d gotten Five to jump the bags through their locked doors, even though going through those two inches pushed him to exhaustion. Five had marched over to her with clenched fists and sat on the edge of the bed, anger radiating from every pore of his body. She’d looked at him with empty eyes. He’d glared back.
“He can’t do this to you.” She’d sighed.
“It’s my fault.” It always was. Five hands glowed blue, anger flushing his pale cheeks red.
“It’s not your fault. It’s his. Okay?” She’d said okay, because she knew it would make him happy. She’s even believed it a tiny bit.
“Tell Diego I’m sorry.” Five nodded and crossed the tiny room in a few paces, listening at the door before jumping through again. Seven looked through the bag and smiled, just a little.