Chapter Text
House Hargreeves sat in quiet isolation outside city limits, unseen from any road save the long, graveled driveway that wound from a set of tall, wrought iron gates to its grand entrance. A stone terrace stood over the front stairs, stretching forward far enough to allow for a carriage to pass beneath its arches, covering the looming mahogany doors in cool shadow, even on the warmest of summer days. It was on one such summer day that the iron gates opened at dawn with a groan to allow a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow passage. The car drove away from House Hargreeves, empty except for a mustachioed gentleman in the driver’s seat, his uniform white, and his face solemn.
An hour later the vehicle returned, this time with a passenger. A child.
Blond-haired and blue-eyed, the boy peered out of the backseat window with a look of hesitant hope, his face pressed against the glass as he took in the sprawling grounds. He was tall for his age, but his height was diminished by the insecurity that hunched his shoulders. A fraying green duffle bag sat on his lap, his hands clenched tight around the straps as one of his legs bounced beneath it. It was the only possession he had in the world.
Gravel crunched under the tires as they approached the dark mansion ahead, and the boy gaped at its silhouette as the sun rose behind it. Besides the old city churches celebrating their hundredth-plus centennials, he had never seen a building with as many arches, towers, or pillars before. It grew larger as they approached, the countless windows draped in darkness except for a stained-glass pane that gleamed from the second floor. Craning to keep his eyes on it, the window was cut from his view as they passed beneath the terrace.
“Please exit.” The driver stated as they pulled to a stop.
The boy swallowed.
“Do I just go inside?” The driver did not answer, and despite their eyes being able to meet in the rearview mirror, the older gentleman stared ahead with steadfast resolution. “Sir?”
“Please exit.” He repeated, and the boy knew he would get nothing more.
Hoisting his bag over a shoulder, he stepped out onto the pebbled ground. As soon as he shut the door the vehicle began to move, and he walked in its wake to watch it leave him behind. Alone now and at a loss for what to do next, he approached the front entrance, his stomach fluttering with nervous energy. Nobody had told him he would simply be abandoned here, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. Go inside? Knock?
Taking the few stairs ahead in a single stretched step, the boy neared the doors and looked up. They were massive; arched with sharp peaks at the top, the wood solid enough that he was sure not even a battering ram could break through. They were, he decided, the same sort of doors old castles must have had. Each one featured an enormous cast-iron knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, each one holding a heavy ring in their mouth, the metal discolored with splashes of green and brown. Below them were two ornate handles, a large keyhole under each and a lever that could be pulled to disengage the bolt.
He reached for the one on his left and tried to open it, but he found the door locked. The right one was no different. They were both sealed tight. Frowning, he grabbed one of the metal rings and knocked it firmly against the door four times. Then he waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
He knocked again, but as the minutes drew into half an hour, he knew that nobody was coming to let him inside. With a sigh, the boy sat down on one of the front steps and slid his bag off his shoulder. He would simply have to wait.
The next child arrived nearly an hour after him, and as the car drove away, leaving a new boy behind, the blond was greeted by an expression of sullen suspicion.
“Who are you?” The new boy asked, his hair dark and eyes darker, his skin a dusky complexion. He had a large backpack swinging from one hand, his other curled into a tight fist, ready for a fight.
“I’m Luther. What about you?”
“Diego. Wh—wh—why you sitting outside?”
“Door’s locked.” Luther answered with a shrug as he climbed to his feet then dusted off his bottom.
Diego’s left eyebrow rose.
“You try any other doors?”
“I don’t—” Luther started to answer that he wasn’t even sure if there were any other entrances, but then he realized it was silly of him to not even look. He was suddenly embarrassed, and a little mad that he hadn’t thought of exploring first. “No.” He said at last. “I didn’t.”
“Well I ain’t sitting out here all day.” Diego stated as he hoisted his bag onto his back.
And then he was walking away, along the side of the house towards the end with the tall tower. Luther snatched up his own bag and looped it over his shoulder before jogging after him. The sun beat down against their heads and necks as they circled the house, and Luther could feel his shirt start to dampen with sweat. It was going to be a hot and miserable day, that was for sure.
When they reached the side, Diego grinned over his shoulder.
“Told ya there’d be another wa—way in.” He boasted in spite of his stutter, leading them to the door.
He grabbed at it with one hand and pulled, but the door didn’t budge, and it wasn’t until he’d rattled it several times with both hands that he gave up with a sigh and took a step back.
“This is bullshit.” He grunted, turning around and walking back to the grass.
There was a set a narrow stairs leading up nearby, and Luther pointed to them.
“We could try there.” He suggested.
They did, finding yet another door, but as with the other two, the entrance was sealed. The boys finished their survey of the mansion’s exterior, but unless they planned to throw a rock through one of the windows, they were stuck outside. The pair trudged back to the front door and sat on the stairs beneath the shade.
“You know anything about this guy?” Diego asked, waving a hand towards the house behind him.
Luther shook his head.
“Only the name of the couple. Grace and Reginald.”
“They sound lame.”
“I think they sound nice.” Luther argued, trying to stay optimistic despite their being locked out. “Do you think that—”
“Shut up.” Diego interrupted, stretching his arm out to point. “Look. He’s coming back.”
The car that had brought them both here was indeed returning. They watched it in silence, both curious, and said nothing else as it slowly wound its way up the driveway and under the overhang. A moment later a girl climbed out of the backseat, pulling her bags out behind her, her skin dark and her hair a long curtain of black curls. When she turned, Luther licked his lips, his heart speeding a little at the sight of her face. She was so pretty, he thought, watching as she appraised the two of them, a large, patterned bag in one hand, a small suitcase in the other.
“What’s up with you two?” She asked.
“We’re locked out.” Luther answered.
“Looks like we—we’re housed with another asshole.” Diego added.
“What’s your name?” Luther asked her, unable to stifle his curiosity.
“Allison Due.”
“Luther. Diego.” He motioned to the boy beside him.
Allison gave an uninterested nod, then moved her luggage to the side of the stairs, out of the driveway. The boys watched as she unzipped her suitcase and pulled out a blanket, and they exchanged a glance of vague disbelief when she took it out to the grass and spread it out before laying down and closing her eyes. She folded her hands on her stomach and looked for all the world like a girl on some peaceful picnic in the park.
“What are you doing?” Diego called out to her, incredulous.
“Enjoying the sun.” She answered, having to raise her voice a little to be heard.
“Wh—why?” He continued.
“Better than brooding.”
Diego shook his head and looked to Luther.
“Girls.” He lamented, and Luther simply gave a shrug, part of him wanting to join her out there regardless of the heat and the sunburn he’d no doubt earn for it.
After another stretch of time the car returned with another boy around their age, the vehicle departing as soon as he was out. This boy was tall and lanky, pale like Luther but dark haired like Diego. He took them in, glanced at Allison who ignored them all, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit it, then slipped the lighter and box back in place, taking a long drag and exhaling before even saying a word.
“So what’s all this about?” He waved the cigarette in their general direction, his eyes wandering the exterior of the building, though he made no move to explore.
“Locked out.” Diego grunted.
“Right.” The new boy said, taking a second pull from the cigarette. “Sounds like another asshole. Big surprise there.”
“That’s what I said.” Diego agreed.
“Well I’m going to go take a look around then. See if there’s anything not nailed down and worth my time.”
“Say what now?” Luther asked as the new boy walked off.
“He’s looking for something to steal.” Diego explained with a smirk, then climbed to his feet. “Yo, wh—what’s your name?” He shouted at the other boy’s back.
“Klaus!” He responded with a yell without turning.
As the car returned again, the sun past its peak, Luther sighed, the only one watching it approach. Allison had shifted to laying on her stomach now and seemed to be dozing off while the other two were playing a game of War with the deck of cards Klaus had in his bag. The next boy that was dropped off looked at them with haughty disdain, his eyes passing over them all before giving the house a once over from where he stood, his dark hair swept back and sideways in a strangely professional way.
“Jesus.” He said at last. “How many kids does this bastard plan on collecting?”
“Probably needs as many checks as he can get to keep up a place this size.” Klaus answered offhandedly as he slapped down another card.
“Sounds about right.” The new boy agreed before walking his black suitcase over to the stairs and setting it down beside Allison’s. “I’ll assume you’ve already checked for other ways in?”
“All the other doors are locked.” Luther answered with a nod.
“Windows?”
“Those too.” Klaus added, and Luther felt out of his depth surrounded by people who were apparently okay with trying to break into a house through any means necessary outside of property damage.
“Great.”
“What’s your name?” Luther asked, hoping there’d be no discussion about trying to get in through some other way.
“Victor. But I’m not here to make friends, so let’s just skip the small talk. Okay?”
Another boy named Ben was the next to arrive, and he brought just as little fanfare, if not less, than the others. He’d shyly greeted them then tucked himself on the corner of the stairs, elbows on his knees and his chin resting in his palms. He was pensive, but seemed far nicer than Victor and less troublesome than Diego and Klaus. Allison had joined them beneath the shade by then as well, looking up to offer the new boy a smile as she filed her nails.
The sun was creeping closer to the horizon by the time the car returned one more time. Ben had been pulled into a card game by then. Allison and Luther had began exchanging stories of past foster homes. Victor remained off to the side, his arms crossed and face stoic. The car pulled up in front of them, and this time the engine cut off, drawing their attention. Another girl climbed out from the back, her brown hair long and straight, her eyes hidden beneath a set of bangs as she kept her head down, her small suitcase clutched in front of her with both hands. The man who had driven each of them there stood from the car as well, then walked around to the other side and looked at them each in turn.
“Come along.” He said simply as he threaded his way between them up the stairs, pulling a set of keys from his pocket as he went.
They all collected their belongings as he shoved a large, ornate key into one of the locks, the tumblers giving a heavy clank as they moved out of the way. The driver pushed the right-side door open then, and a waft of cold air brushed past, much to Luther’s relief. He looked up as he shouldered his bag, the interior too dark to discern with the setting sun bright against their backs. The older man walked in first, then stepped to the side and waved them onward.
Diego slipped inside ahead of everyone else, followed by Luther and then the others. As he stepped past the door, thoughts of the summer heat and the long wait faded behind him. The foyer was enormous. Bigger and grander than anything he’d ever seen before, and from the small sounds of surprise coming at his back, he wasn’t the only one awestruck. The grand staircase – too wide and tall and prominent to be named anything else – stopped at a midway landing, the wall behind it backlit by a row of arched, stain glass windows, a fading gold and green glow washing across the small stretch above them where two more sets of stairs broke away to lead even higher.
Sconces let off warm light from the walls, illuminating the shoulders and chests of two stone statues that stood inside inlets that sat in the walls where the room separated into one, two, three, four, five, six different paths. Luther couldn’t decide where to look first. Two more statues, these iron or brass, were sentinels at the bottom of the stairs, mirroring one another on either bannister. There was another figure down the hall to the right of the stairs, marble maybe, and countless other decorations that looked priceless and worthy of a museum.
“It’s like Dracula’s castle.” Ben whispered under his breath and Klaus snickered.
“Probably just some rich old per…” But Diego’s scathing remark dropped away as a woman entered into the foyer, her heels clicking against the floor with every step.
She wasn’t at all what Luther had been expecting. He had thought their foster mother would be old and cranky, living in a house like this, but she was the exact opposite. Her blonde hair was in a pretty updo, her dress was flared and brightly colored, and while she was already very beautiful, the kind smile on her face dazzled him in a way he had never experienced before. She looked so pleased to see them.
“Well hello there, children. I’m Grace, your new mother.” She greeted, hands clasped together as she took them all in. “I am so happy you’re all here. Now, you just leave your luggage right there. Mr. Abhijat and I will take them to your rooms later. In the meantime, Mr. Hargreeves is very excited to meet with you all, so please, follow me.”
Luther exchanged glances with Diego and Allison, but nobody spoke as they followed Grace while she ascended the stairs, their footsteps echoing through the foyer but getting absorbed by the greater house, as if it were swallowing down a taste and waiting for something more. Luther didn’t like the thought, but it was only a house, he reminded himself. And old, museum-like house sure, but nothing more than a house, and Mr. Hargreeves would be nothing more than one foster father among many.