claude

With the bombings, and then being put on leave, Eudora had forgotten about Claude, right until he’d called her. Since she was still on leave, thanks to her arm still in a sling, she’d needed the distraction from the bad mood she’d been in, and a date was the perfect thing. It’d been a little harder to get ready for the date than she’d like to admit, but she’d managed. 

“No, this place is great. I’ve heard good things too.” She lived off takeout usually, although lately, with her mother fussing over her so much, she’d had plenty of leftovers stuffed in the fridge. Dinner out made a nice change, no matter where it was. “Honestly, I can eat anything. I’ve never been picky either. Not when it comes to food.” With a lot of other things in her life, she could be a bit too exact, too strict, but food had been such a big part of her childhood. 

“I’m really glad you called, I have to admit. I’ve been bored out of my brain.” 

“Oh, perfect,” Claude said, obviously relieved. “I’m not picky either, honestly I’m usually just eating at Taco Bell,” He admitted with a laugh. “Uh, if I’m being totally honest with you, Eu, I’m a little nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a proper date,” He confessed to her, reaching to open the door of the restaurant. He was honestly glad that she had even said yes to going. He’d been glad to have a normal interaction with someone for a change, even if he was a bit nervous. 

“Im glad you answered,” He replied. “Hopefully I’ll cure your boredom, at least a bit,” 

Claude remembered Patch-- well, Eudora, as she’d been so kind to let him call her-- had given him her phone number. Claude hadn’t really dated much since being recruited to come to the city to help out with his power, and truthfully, he’d often found flirting a little difficult. He wasn’t exactly awkward, but he wasn’t any night in shining armor either. Claude considered himself to be a bit of a nerd, and he usually couldn’t stop it from escaping his soul and lunging his nerdy-ness into almost any and every conversation he had. 

Though, after calling her, much to his surprise she had agreed to meet him for dinner. He’d picked a little restaurant downtown, something not too fancy but definitely something nice. He wanted to treat her, but he had a feeling that she was the type to be more impressed by personality and he didn’t want to look like he was trying to flex. “I figured this place would be good. I’ve never been, but the reviews were pretty tight and I’m not too picky myself,” He said as he walked her towards the entrance. “Unless, you want to go somewhere else?”

When he heard the scream for everyone to get down, Jac’s hand immediately went to where he carried a gun. He’d immediately arranged for him to have a licence to carry when he’d come to New York, unwilling to risk being caught unprepared. With the bombings, he was glad for that fact. 

But it wasn’t a thief, as he half expected, seeing the younger man throw something into an empty stall. Springing into action, he immediately threw himself in front of a young woman, shielding her from the worst of the blast. 

For a second, he was back in the Army, watching Henry - no, this wasn’t the same. No one was barking out orders in his ear, no bullets were flying. No one was hurt, not seriously. Jac quickly helped the woman up, giving her instructions to get out, but he knew how people panicked. There was a chance someone was going to get trampled. “Hey.” He grabbed the man who had thrown the bomb. “Hey, come on, look at me. You did good, no one got hurt, but you’re going to get knocked flat if you just stand here like that. It’s a stampede.” 

Claude had ducked behind a kiosk, though, half the sunglasses had fallen down on top of him when the explosion went off. When he stood up, his ears were ringing from the blast, and people were scattering all around, running past him. He’d zoned out momentarily, a little shocked that he’d managed to throw it before anyone was hurt. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his arm and he snapped out of the small trance that he’d fallen into accidentally. 

“Huh?” Claude turned to look at him, shaking himself out of his own thoughts. “Oh, uh--” He mumbled, finally coming completely back to reality. “Shit. I-- thanks,” He said, following the stranger out of the way of the mall patrons scattering to leave. “I just-- I can’t even believe-- I can’t believe I just picked it up, it could have exploded in my hand,”

The bomb went off and Bianca had morphed into a bird, several ruffled feathers remaining when she took off flying away from the glass and objects that soared through the air from the explosion. She was miraculously unscathed but shaken, turning a corner before she switched back, her hair out of place and shoulders shaking from the shock of it all.

“The one time I left the academy,” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her middle, drifting toward the familiar face. “No one’s hurt?”

Claude looked around, running a hand over his hair. “Seems like everyone is okay. That store, though, I think they’re gonna need some revisions,” Claude said, glancing over at the now destroyed inside of what used to be a clothing store. “No one’s hurt now, but that shit was planted in the toy store. Whatever sick psycho made that thing is still out there,” Claude said, looking around at the now empty mall around them, kiosks knocked over with product scattered on the floor from people dashing to get out of harms way. 

Hazel hadn’t been to the mall before today. This was supposed to be an enjoyable experience. He’d get a Cinnabon from the food court, sit there and enjoy it instead of getting everything to go and having to sit in the motel room alone. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like that was going to happen.

A loud boom interrupted his train of thought, then came the people running and screaming. What the hell just happened? He left his table and carefully made his way towards the area where the explosion went off. There stood one male who seemed to be shaken, but okay nonetheless. Did he have something to do with this? Was he on a daze? Being near an explosive going off can send you into a delirious state after all. “Are you alright?” He asked.

Claude turned to the man who’d approached him, running a hand over his hair. “I’m fine, but uh-- Funky Stitches and their retail line isn’t,” He said, nodding towards the half-destroyed, pretty large clothing store. Super speed wasn’t always the most useful power, but in situations where acting fast was required, it came in handy. His ears were ringing a bit from the sound, and he looked around at the now cleared out mall which had been buzzing with people before hand. 

“I heard it ticking inside of a fucking kids toy at the toy store. Imagine if it had gone off in there--” Claude paused. “I’m not sure if I should wait for the police or take a run for it like everyone else,”

“Fuck....Everyone, get down!” He yelled, and though he caught the attention of a few mall goers, none of them seemed to listen. He used his powers to quickly move across the mall, tossing the toy into an empty store that was closed and already barred off for the night. As soon as the toy passed between the metal bars of the dark store, it went off, sending bits and pieces of product from the store flying out in all directions. The people around him started to panic, screaming and scattering to get out of the mall. “Christ,” Claude mumbled, running a hand over the top of his own head as he tried to process why a bomb was inside of a children’s toy at the mall, glad that he had taken action before anyone had gotten hurt. At least, at this location. 

“If I’m now an alien princess knight, does that mean you’re more than just ‘dusty old vampire Claude’?” It had been a while since she’d flirted with anyone, and she was actually enjoying it more than she’d thought. Not at all shy, she tilted her head a little. “And maybe you’d like my number? I don’t have a spear, but I am still pretty badass without one.” 

“I guess I could be more than a dusty old vampire. Maybe I’m a prince in distress, waiting for an alien princess knight to sweep me off my feet,” He flirted back, hoping that she was actually flirting with him and that this wasn’t just his imagination. But-- there it was, she was giving him her number. “Your number? I- yeah, yeah, I would definitely like that a lot.” He stuttered a little bit, though he couldn’t help but smile. “And I absolutely believe that, you look like you’d win pretty much any fight.”

Once again, Eudora laughed. “Alien princess, huh?” She’d never heard that line before. “I’m about as far away from a princess as a girl can get. I always liked the knights in the stories better.” When he offered to call her Patch, she shook her head. “No, really, either is fine. I think it’s a sign that I work too much that I barely recognise my own name.” 

“I think it depends on the stories. You can be a Princess and a Knight. Write your own story. I think a princess on a horse with armor and a spear would be baddass as fuck,” He responded, unsurprised at his own habit of rambling about fantasy stories. The comic book nerd in him really liked to jump out. “Alright, then. Eudora the alien knight-princess,”

As someone who always put her job first, she wasn’t exactly sure she’d ever really been spoiled, but then, she’d never sought out serious relationships either. Dating was fine, she enjoyed it, it just never seemed to go anywhere. Laughing at his description of his name, she realised that maybe she’d been putting work first a little too much lately. “It’s actually Eudora, so just as old-fashioned as Claude. But I’m a cop, so I tend to go by my last name.”

“Oh, Eudora,” He smiled, leaning with his elbows on the table. “No, no, I like that name. It sounds kind of like an alien princess name. Much better than a dusty old vampire. But, I’ll stick to Patch if that’s what you’re used to,” He added, enjoying the simplicity of their conversation. Nothing about wild rabid animals, or the end of the world. 

“Thank you.” She took the coffee, sipping it. “I needed this.” When he offered to hold the cup, she laughed. “Careful, a girl could get used to special treatment.” Since she wasn’t working, she could relax, and he seemed fairly harmless. “I’m Patch.” She held out her free hand, giving her surname out of habit. The only people who called her by her first name were family or close friends. 

“Hey, nothing wrong with that. Everyone deserves to be treated a little special sometimes,” He shrugged, reaching out his hand to shake the one she’d held out for him. “Patch, huh? Like, on a quilt. My name is Claude, like, a vampire from the 1800′s,” He laughed, pulling his hand away after accepting her handshake. After opening up the conversation, Claude realized that some genuine, regular, casual human interaction was something he’d been craving for the past few days.

A rough day was an understatement. With the disease taking down several cops, Patch was even more overworked than usual, and she was relying on that coffee. When the man offered to buy her a replacement drink, she raised an eyebrow at first, but she was too tired to be suspicious of everyone. “That would be great, thank you. Just a plain black coffee.” She needed the caffeine hit. “Hopefully I won’t spill that one, but the way my luck is going, who knows.” 

“You got it,” He said, setting down the napkins for her. “I’ll be right back,” He said, leaving for a moment to go grab her a new coffee. He brought it back to her, setting it down and taking a sip of the drink he’d snagged for himself. “And, if you need me to hold it for you while you drink it so you don’t spill it again, I don’t mind,” He joked, thinking maybe a bit of teasing would lighten up whatever kind of negative mood the woman was in.

The baby was to blame. Alaric put his glass of juice down for one second and turned away to grab something from his bag and Henri was compelled to take hold of the glass, chubby fingers managing to knock the liquid out. His son seemed pretty pleased with himself but Alaric’s expression said otherwise. “I would appreciate that,” He sighed and shook his head. “Clumsy of me to forget the little tyke has a good grasp on things now.”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem. What kind of drink was it?” He asked, taking some of the napkins and helping clean up the baby’s mess. “Nah man, you’re good. Babies are hard work, shit like this happens,” He said, not realizing he cursed in front of this man’s child. “I mean, stuff, sorry. Potty mouth problems,”

It had been a damn day. Smoothing his hair back - more or less, at this point, he’d take what he could get - Five straightened his vest, his collar, and… brushed furiously at the astonishing amount of fur that had managed to find its way onto his clothes. That Saint Bernard would have been a hell of a mess even if it weren’t drooling super-powered-lab-grown-bio-terrorism all over the place. But that was Pogo’s problem, now. One awful specimen down. 

Two to go.

First, fuel. Five staggered his way into the kitchen, over to those familiar shelves. Unfamiliar, now. Where had they put the - there. He swept the peanut butter down, fished the marshmallows from out of the cabinets. Two slices of Wonderbread, and he was slathering up a sandwich. The Dog had wheezed in behind him; with a cheery snuffle, he’d helped himself to the soft cat food somebody had left out. Five didn’t call him off, simply sitting back on the counter, slapped-together sandwich in hand. He’d vaguely registered somebody else in the room, when he’d stormed in. Vaguely. Now, he squinted across that first, hungry bite. Chewed, thoughtfully. Swallowed. “Claude, right?” Rhetorical, really. The “siblings” Five hadn’t scooped up himself, he knew - their names, at least - from their little orientation. First day on campus at the Umbrella Academy. Five took another bite. More chewing, taking his time. It was peanut butter. And marshmallows. You didn’t rush some things. “Charmed. I’d avoid the east wing, if I were you. And any small to medium mammals. Seems this particular clusterfuck is even more contagious than anticipated. Better safe,” for now, “than sorry.” 

Claude was slightly startled when someone-- five, rather-- walked into the kitchen with a... dog? He watched in silence as the man knocked down some peanut butter and marshmallows and began throwing together a sandwich. “Yeah, that’s me,” Claude answered, setting down the bag of pretzels slowly. Eating one more wouldn’t hurt. He threw another one into his mouth, leaning on the counter. “Mhm. Wait-- small to medium mammals?” He questioned. Contagious? He was completely and utterly clueless, it seemed, since he had not a single idea what Five had been talking about. 

“Is that why no one is here? What the hell is going on, then? And-- isn’t that--” Claude pointed to the dog who was currently slobbering all over some cat food, “--A small to medium mammal?”

Claude had fallen asleep on the couch in the mansion-- he’d been talking to the Umbrella Academy kids about the state of the world, though keeping them all in one spot was rough. He almost was counting on the end of everything at this point-- such a rag tag group of adults who can’t even get themselves together. He was waiting for at least one of them to return, and hadn’t caught any of the news about what was currently going on out in New York. 

Claude stood up, rubbing his eyes while he wandered into the kitchen. “Hello?” He called out, but no one answered back. He shrugged, before finding some chocolate covered pretzels that had been on the counter. He unrolled the bag, popping one into his mouth. “Not sure who these belong to, but I’m eating them.” He mumbled to himself, sticking another one past his lips-- none the wiser to the outbreak of rabid animals just past the walls of where he stood.