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Prologue
After everything that had happened, Luther keeps his distance.
Not to everyone. Five seems to be indifferent about the things Luther did to prevent the apocalypse - to try and prevent it, which may have largely to do with them not being around when Luther decided to lock their sister up. And Klaus is all caught in his own problems so no one ever really sees him and when he’s there, he treats Luther just like he does everyone else, no unnecessary cruelty but no sugar coating either.
But Allison? Diego? Luther is better off staying away from them, from Allison’s disappointed looks and Diego’s sharp words.
Which is harder than it seems, now that his siblings have decided to move back into their childhood home. Under different circumstances, Luther would be glad that they are all together again, the only constant he ever had in his life settling in again and easing his troubled mind.
But just because they are back doesn’t make it all the same again.
Just because they are around doesn’t mean that they need him again or that they even want him. Which is something - and yes, you may call him naive - Luther has never considered before. Not being needed. Not having a definite purpose.
A few weeks ago he thought his purpose was protecting his siblings from their sister by pushing her out, alienating her. After all that’s what they had always done and that’s what’s best, right?
But that only made the situation worse, Vanya nearly destroying their home. She’d killed Pogo. She nearly killed all of them if it hadn’t been for Allison, talking her down without any words, wrapping her arms around Vanya where Luther would’ve been ready to fight. To hurt.
And now here they are, everyone sitting in their respective rooms, brooding. Or maybe that’s just Luther, who knows?
At least he does until someone is knocking on his door.
Even with everything turning upside down none of his siblings would knock. Years of living together do that to you, barging into someone’s room without thinking twice. The only person who was polite enough to knock was Mum but if she’d seek anyone out it would be Diego and not him, not when Luther was way too much of a Daddy’s boy growing up.
He is already halfway through the room to ask Mum what’s wrong when the door swings open and Vanya is standing there. Luther stops in his tracks.
“Can I come in?” Vanya asks, like she actually expects him to say no, to turn her away. It hurts Luther that she would ever think that but then again it does make sense. All things considered.
Still. “Of course,” he says, opening his arms. He watches as Vanya walks in, taking her time in shutting the door before facing him again. For a moment they just look at each other, Luther being self-conscious about Vanya’s gaze. She stares at him and it feels like she is looking right into his soul, taking him in.
Luther fights the urge to shrink in on himself and draw up his shoulders. If anything, the movement would only catch even more attention.
“Do you-”
“I wanted to-”
They smile at other, more awkward than anything, before Luther nods his head in Vanya’s direction, silently telling her to go first. She takes a deep breath before starting again.
“I wanted to say thank you.”
“What?” It slips out, not exactly what Luther had wanted to say. But Vanya’s words take him by surprise. “What would you possibly want to thank me for?”
It’s harsh but it’s also true. Out of all of them, Luther would expect Vanya to dislike him the most, actually thought that she hated him and wanted nothing to do with him anymore.
Not that she ever told him that. Luther had made sure that she wouldn’t have the need to, always slipping away when she entered the room or at least trying to keep as much in the background as possible.
But maybe he had been wrong thinking that. Seemed to happen a lot recently.
“Well not exactly thank you but….,” Vanya pushes herself away from the door, taking quick steps towards him until they are standing in front of each other. She has to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes but that doesn’t stop her. Luther idly thinks that he’s never seen her more determined.
“I appreciate what you did. I really do.”
Luther wants to say something but Vanya pushes on, eyes wide. “I was dangerous. I could’ve hurt you.” She shakes her head abruptly. “I had already hurt Allison.”
She closes her eyes, brows furrowed. “You had to protect our family.”
The room is silent now, save for Vanya’s quick breathing. Luther looks down to her, barely even reaching up to his chest and his mind flashes to the last time they were standing so close to each other, how he’d used her vulnerability. If he concentrates, he can still hear her bones popping, air leaving her body slowly as he squeezes. And squeezes.
But in his head he never stops squeezing, unrelenting until more than just the fight leaves Vanya’s body.
Luther stumbles back, knocking against the frame of his bed. Vanya looks confused but doesn’t follow him, probably sensing how close he is to freaking out.
“Maybe…, maybe I should go…”
Vanya is out the door before Luther can even nod, chest heaving and hands shaking.
1. Arms
Nothing changes after Luther’s freakout.
The others still treat him the same, either indifferent or badly, and he still spends most of his time alone. It’s not that different from the moon but that doesn’t mean Luther enjoys it. He accepts it either way, no real choice there.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, there’s a tiny voice whispering, reminding him that it’s what he deserves after letting his family down.
Because what use is protecting your family when you don’t protect all of them?
He keeps circling back to Vanya’s words, to the talk they had. She thought he had done the right thing and before, he wouldn’t even have questioned that. The right way was always Dad’s way and Luther strictly followed Dad’s way.
No matter what.
But he was starting to question that, doubt creeping in only slowly, but steadily.
And he couldn’t bear thinking that now, right when he was starting to doubt his actions, there was Vanya, the one person who had been hurt most by him, thinking that he had been in the right.
No one else thought that, why would she? She’d been the one suffering and yet….
She had thanked him.
So Luther breaks his own rule, just this once, and actively seeks Vanya out.
She’s sitting on a sofa in the open space that most people would call a living room but that always had been a bit more of an assembly hall of some kind.
Luther remembers standing in a line with the others, back straight and head held high as Dad had talked on about the next mission or their training. He’d always been the first one in line, the leader, Number One, everyone else coming after, standing next to him.
Well, not everyone.
“Hello Vanya,” Luther says, careful not to spook her. She doesn’t seem to be doing anything, just sitting there and briefly Luther wonders if she’s meditating. She does that a lot lately, admitting that it helped keeping her calm when Allison had asked her about it.
But whether she is or not, Luther’s words startle her enough to throw her out of whatever trance she had been in, head whipping around at the sound of his voice.
“Sorry,” Luther mumbles, stopping a few feet away from the sofa. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I can go again, if you want me to?”
It’s all questions lately, Luther isn’t sure of anything these days. Do you want me to go? Can I help you with that? Is it okay if I sit here? Do you still like me?
Am I a monster? Was Dad a monster? Do you hate me like you hated Dad?
Vanya shakes her head. “I’m glad you’re here, Luther.” She’s smiling at him and patting the space next to her, inviting him to sit with her. Luther slowly walks over, squeezing himself next to her.
His shoulders are bumping against the high armrests and he feels how Vanya scoots even further to the side because he’s taking up more room than expected.
He stands up again.
“I uhm…..I just wanted to say that…..” He keeps his back to her, staring at the portrait of Five instead. Five stares back, looking down on him like they are judging him. Luther looks away.
“If I had the chance to go back, I would stop myself.” He licks his lips, closing his eyes briefly. “Stop myself from hurting you.”
“No!” Vanya is next to him in an instant, leaping up from the couch fast enough that her hair falls into her face. She pushes it aside.
“I told you that you did the right thing! You had to protect-”
“Protect my family, yes.” Luther turns his head in her direction. “But you are my family too, aren’t you?”
Vanya doesn’t answer, only gazes up at him. She looks shocked, like she didn’t consider the fact that maybe she meant something to Luther, to all of them.
Somehow, that only makes Luther feel like he’s failed, like he should’ve reminded her more often that she was part of this family. Like a leader would do.
Like a friend would do.
“I care about you, Vanya. And not just since we discovered you had powers.”
Luther sighs, rolling his shoulders. “I just wanted you to know that.”
He steps past her, content on heading back to his room now that he’s said everything. But Vanya stops him. She puts a hand on his arm, squeezing, and he freezes.
“Thank you, Luther.” She’s smiling at him, a real smile and her hand is still on his arm and Luther feels like he may burn up any second. His heart is beating into his throat and he doesn’t understand why Vanya would touch him, all gentle. Like those aren’t the same arms that nearly killed her.
“Do you wanna sit down again, maybe? I could make us tea?” Vanya bites her lip, focusing on a spot next to his face. Her hand is still on his arm.
“I’m not...uh, I mean-, I don’t..” Her hand is still on his arm.
“Oh, yeah, of course. You probably have some other things to do.” Vanya nods, more to herself than Luther. “Right.” She drops her hand and Luther suppresses the shuddering breath he wants to take. He watches as she slumps back into the couch, shooting him one last, small smile and walks away as if on autopilot.
His arm is tingling.
2. Hands
Vanya and him hang out a lot now. Usually in Luther’s room because while Luther really enjoys the company, he is never quite sure if he’s allowed to seek out Vanya or if today is the day when she finally has enough of him and doesn’t wanna have anything to do with him anymore.
But that day has yet to come because every evening - without fail - Vanya is there, shyly knocking at the door before entering. They mostly talk but sometimes Vanya brings a book with her and sits down on Luther’s bed, content with just being around him. Luther usually sits down on the edge of the bed then, fiddling with whatever’s closest and trying his hardest to not openly stare at Vanya.
If Vanya notices, she doesn’t comment.
It’s one of those nights again, Vanya sitting against the headboard, knees drawn up and the book she’s currently reading leaning against her thighs. Luther is on the floor, his upper body supported by the wall as he watches Vanya on the bed, considering.
Then: “Maybe you could read out loud? You know, for me?”
He keeps his eyes on Vanya, watches her looking at him, closing the book. She keeps it slightly open with one finger, mindful not to lose the page she’s on. Luther smiles.
Vanya smiles back, more self-conscious. She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Why would you want me to do that?”
Luther shrugs. “I think it would be nice. Hearing your voice.” He fiddles with his hands, rubbing his pointer finger over the nail bed of his thumb.
Vanya sits up straighter, jostling the book on her lap. “Well I think it would be awkward.” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t want you watching me the whole time.”
Luther rubs at his neck, feeling caught. There’s some more shuffling as Vanya opens the book again, going back to reading. Apparently the conversation is over for her.
But Luther can’t leave it alone just yet. “And what if I’m not watching you? I could keep my eyes closed, see?” He shuts his eyes, turning his head towards Vanya more. He feels a little bit stupid, especially when Vanya doesn’t say anything, but after a moment, she answers.
“You could peek.”
Luther opens his eyes and sees the blush on Vanya’s face. It reminds him of when they were young, Five prodding at Vanya until she got all red. Luther had never said anything, never scolded Five like he would’ve Diego, knowing that they weren’t trying to actually upset Vanya. He had just watched, eyes lingering on the way Vanya’s eyes had crinkled when she smiled, trying to hide herself behind her hair.
Luther had thought her beautiful every time.
“I wouldn’t peek. I promise,” he says, his voice low and his heart beating fast. Vanya laughs at Luther’s sincere tone but still shakes her head no. “You can’t be trusted.”
She doesn’t mean it, Luther knows that. She just wants to tease him a bit. But Luther can’t help but think: ‘Yeah. I’m not trustworthy. Please don’t make the mistake of thinking that.’
He swallows and Vanya stops grinning at him.
“I didn’t mean that,” she says immediately. “I’m sorry.”
‘Don’t be,’ he wants to say, but he just nods. He doesn’t want to upset Vanya.
The silence stretches on between them and Luther half-expects Vanya to go, to stand up and leave, now that he ruined the easy mood.
But she doesn’t.
“Come here,” she says instead, voice soft.
Luther looks at her, confused, but he does as he’s told - like he always does, ever the good soldier, isn’t he? -, his bones cracking as he bends his knees. He walks over to the bed, not sure what to do once he’s there, standing in front of Vanya.
“Lay down.” Vanya points at the mattress, right in front of her, changing her position so she’s cross-legged. So Luther has more space.
He sits down and after shooting another look at Vanya, lays down on his back, scooting so he can keep looking at her in his new position.
Vanya smiles. “Close your eyes,” she says and Luther does. He feels something touch his wrist, cold fingers wrapping around his hand. He waits, laying on the mattress with his breath bated, focusing on Vanya’s hand on his.
She pulls at it softly, waiting until he goes slack in her grip before guiding his hand towards his face. She settles Luther’s hand on top of his eyes, squeezing for a second before letting go again.
“Now I can read out loud.”
Luther’s mind swirls and he realizes that this is the second time that Vanya has touched him. Like it’s easy. Like she wants to.
Then Vanya started reading, her voice filling the room. “Perhaps there are scars - in the mind, the heart - that never heal. Perhaps there are words that can never be spoken or whispered, words-”
Vanya reads and reads, long into the night and Luther listens, laying there with her voice in his ear, in his mind and his hand over his eyes.
Vanya’s right.
He does peek.
3. Back
Luther doesn’t change in front of mirrors anymore. He prefers getting dressed quickly, getting it over with, preferably facing a wall.
He got used to it.
That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt anymore.
Five gets him, not big on offering any comforting words but giving some kind of silent support, getting him a Margarita without another word when Luther comes down the stairs with his shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor.
Luther knows that Five has similar days, days where they can’t stand anyone touching them or commenting on their looks. It’s a bit comforting to know that he’s not alone in this, even though Five’s hurt is different from his own.
But right now, not even Five can help, Luther feeling like he’s about to burst. He’s too big, too clumsy, and he just wants to vanish, to not fill out the room wherever he goes, drawing everyone’s attention.
He wants to be alone.
He doesn’t know why he’s standing in front of Vanya’s door then, hand raised to knock. And stands there. Not sure how to proceed. He’s ready to forget it, to turn around and go to his own room but then Vanya is opening the door, nearly running into him.
“Oh! I was just about to go to yours!” She smiles, tilting her head back to look at him. “But it seems you’ve found me first.” She swings back and forth on her feet. Luther notices that she has another book clutched to her chest, a new one. They had reached the end of the old one about two days ago and Vanya had promised to look for another.
Luther is still just standing there, unmoving, and Vanya clears her throat, tugging her hair behind her ear. Luther follows the motion with his eyes.
“Is everything alright?”
Luther rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go to mine?” Luther is moving, walking towards his room without waiting for Vanya. Once he’s inside, he sits down on the bed, smiling as best as he can when Vanya follows him, closing the door.
“Something is clearly up, Luther.” She’s being serious, Luther can see it in the way she holds herself, shoulders square and brows raised. “What’s wrong?”
Even now, her voice is soft, curious but not prying, not demanding. Luther’s heart leaps, just a little.
He decides to be honest. “I’m just having a bad day. You know…..concerning my body.” Maybe it has to do with being Number One and having been conditioned to take the role of the leader at all times, but Luther has a hard time admitting when something’s bothering him. It was just always easier to push through, brush over it all and concentrate on the others. Like a leader should.
But maybe - even if it was wrong to admit weakness as a leader - he could admit it as just Luther? To a friend?
The bed dips when Vanya sits down next to him, close enough that they nearly touch. She rubs her hand over her arm, thinking.
“I don’t know what you’re feeling right now, I cannot understand what you’ve been through. Or how that left you thinking about yourself. And maybe I’m not the best person to talk to, especially if it comes to giving pep talks.” She snorts and the sound startles Luther. He doesn’t think he ever heard Vanya snort before. She gives him a small smile.
“But I can at least say that it’s okay if you have days where you don’t like yourself that much, your appearance or maybe things you did in the past.” She shoots him a look, but Luther already knows what she’s referring to.
“You can grant yourself those days because know what? I like you every day. Every day . Even on days when you can’t like yourself.” She’s biting her lip and there it is again, her hand shooting up to tug her hair behind her ear.
Luther looks at her and his face feels warm, his hands clammy. He rubs them on his pants. “Thanks,” he croaks, throat dry. “Thank you, Vanya.”
Vanya smiles wide. “No problem,” she says. Slowly, she raises her arm, putting it behind Luther, reaching up. She has to stretch a bit but eventually her hand is on Luther’s back, right in the middle of it.
She leaves it there even as Luther turns his head towards her, eyes wide. Luther’s skin tingles.
Vanya just smiles even wider.
4. Cheek
“I never understood why you and Five liked these so much.” Luther is chewing on a marshmallow sandwich, trying hard not to scrunch up his face.
Vanya laughs, sitting in the chair next to him, holding her hand in front of her mouth. She swallows audibly.
“Then you, my good man, seem to have no taste. These are delicious.” Vanya grabs Luther’s remaining sandwich, biting into it heartily.
“Disgusting,” Luther mutters, but he’s watching Vanya intently, their eyes locking. Vanya blushes. She reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, pushing it away from her face and Luther’s hand itches. But he doesn’t move, leaving his hands on the table, on each side of his now empty plate.
He looks at the opposite chair, where Vanya had put another plate, the same faintly green colour as Luther’s, with two more sandwiches for Five.
“What do you think they’re doing?” Five had promised they’d be down in a minute when Vanya had told them she would make her special sandwiches so Luther could try them. Which after years of living together had apparently been an appalling atrocity, Luther not having eaten them yet.
But now 10 minutes had passed, Luther had tasted the sandwiches and deemed them not digestible, and Five still was nowhere in sight.
“They’re probably off doing whatever a 13 year old does normally. Or whatever a 58 year old does. You pick.” Vanya is actually licking her fingers now.
“If you start eating the crumbs off the plate, I’ll cry,” Luther quibs and Vanya laughs again, head thrown back. Luther grins.
“Says the one with his face full of peanut butter,” she counters, crossing her arms. Luther wips at his mouth.
“Gone?”
“Not at all.” Vanya raises her eyebrows and she’s making that face, the one she makes before she starts giggling, like she’s trying to hold back but never actually manages to. Luther loves that face. Luther loves-
“Let me do it for you.” Vanya reaches out, her hand settling on Luther’s face, not at all where Luther had tried to clean it. Her thumb brushes over his cheek, her other fingers inches from Luther’s skin. Vanya lets them hover over his face and Luther can feel them twitch.
He wonders if he should lean into Vanya’s hand. He wants to lean into her hand.
Vanya’s thumb stills and her eyes flicker to Luther’s. They just watch each other and Luther feels like he’s drowning in her eyes, his breath coming fast and then Vanya is leaning close, closer, ever so closer…..
There’s a whoosh and the feeling of electricity humming through the air and Luther jumps, nearly falling out of his seat. Vanya’s hand is gone, Vanya herself scooting away so fast that the chair is making a high pitched screeching sound.
Luther looks at the opposite side of the table.
“Hey,” Five says, grinning. “What did I miss?”
5. Hair
There isn’t another situation again.
There are plenty of situations, Vanya and Luther still spending most of their time together but there isn’t a situation .
No matter how often Luther looks over at Vanya, not even trying to be unobtrusive anymore, Vanya doesn’t react. She looks back at him, yes, and she smiles like she always does and for a second Luther believes that maybe she will touch his cheek again, but then Vanya just goes back to her book or turns towards Five again, talking and joking with them.
And Luther is left with a pounding heart and sweaty hands.
So, he decides that he has to act. He is Number One after all, he should be the one initiating things. He should be the one who’s sure of himself.
Even if Vanya leaves him breathless.
They are laying on his bed that evening, Vanya reading out loud in the newest book - the one Luther got for her, the one that the friendly woman in the shop had recommended to him, even though her eyes kept flickering to his shoulders.
Luther is next to her, laying down while she’s sitting up. He doesn’t have to keep his eyes closed anymore, or even put his hand on top of them, so he watches her, sees how the light coming from the lamp on the bedside table casts her face in shadows. Follows the slope of her nose, the little lump in the middle of it, the one Vanya sometimes traces with her finger.
He blinks. There goes nothing. “May I kiss you?”
Vanya stops in her tracks and the book actually slips from her grip as she stares at him, eyes wide. “What?”
Luther sits up, carefully taking the book and putting it to the side, not breaking eye contact with Vanya. “I wanted to know whether I could kiss you.” He rubs at his neck. “You know, if you’d like that.”
Vanya licks her lips, her eyes flitting around the room. Almost mechanically, she raises her arm, letting it wander towards her face in a practiced motion. Luther stops it, pushing her hand back down gently.
“Let me,” he says, fingers brushing a strand of Vanya’s hair. He takes it and slowly tugs it behind her ear, lingering on the side of her face. Luther watches as his thumb brushes along Vanya’s jaw, skin soft under his touch, and warm.
“Yeah,” Vanya whispers and it’s so quiet, Luther nearly misses it. His eyes flick towards hers, and he presses his palm fully against her cheek. It feels like his whole hand is burning up.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
“You’d like what?” There are only a few centimeters between them now. It would be so easy to just lean a tiny bit forward, to see if his lips would burn up as bad as his hand, to check if Vanya’s mouth is as soft as it seems.
Vanya swallows. “If you’d kiss me.”
So Luther does.