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ONE NUMBER ONE RULE
Unsurprisingly, managing the Hargreeves was not an easy job. Of course, Vincent had to be responsible for the seven children adopted by an eccentric billionaire who wanted to turn his mutant kids into superheroes. That meant a lot of death and fatal incidents Victor had to help them avoid. Early on, Vincent realized these kids each had their own ability (Except Number One, Vincent really wasn't that sure what Number One did) and that made his job an absolute pain in the ass. Still, as most children do, they grew up. Things seemed to take a turn when Vincent had to let Ben (as his "mother" had named him) die. Vincent never liked killing them young, even if he wasn't fully young, he knew a parent should never outlive their children. However, the worst part was that Ben's father, Reginald Hargreeves, couldn't have given less of a shit.
"He gave a two-minute fucking speech, can you believe that shit?" Vincent had ranted, sputtering to Evangeline who watched with a quiet sorrow. She had liked Ben, but both of them had known he wasn't going to last long. "His son is fucking dead and he doesn't even care. God, even I know these kids deserve better."
Still, fourteen-years-later, those kids had grown into their lives by now. They were no longer named by their numbers or measured by their abilities, they were adults in the real world now, mostly separate from their poor excuse of a father's whims. Vincent knew their individuality wouldn't last long, though, because the time of Reginald Hargreeves was soon to come to an end. Before that though, the children were mostly living their own lives. Luther was on the moon following a mission from his father that in Vincent's opinion seemed utterly useless, but he wasn't much of Vincent's problem since nothing could really kill him on the moon. Diego was living out some vigilante fantasy since he had an affinity for knives and doing the right thing even if it meant intense dedication and breaking a few laws. He was a harder case for Vincent since he was pretty much the definition of an idiotic martyr, but whatever, he wasn't going to get killed during a routine break-in, Vincent could manage that much. Allison was by far the most successful, putting her past and her abilities behind her as she had a struggling marriage and an adorable daughter along with a notable career. In sharp contrast, Klaus was by far the worst. Ever since he had grown up and gone his own way from the family, he had been the hardest for Vincent to deal with. An addict who held his own life with no regard for fear of death. He didn't care if he put himself in danger so long as he found his next high. He was in rehab now, thanks to a close call that Vincent had to take care of, but he knew it wasn't going to last long. Just once he wanted Klaus to not be a problem and so far, the thirty days of rehab were a blissful vacation.
There was something strange about Klaus, though. It seemed at times that he could almost hear Vincent. It only seemed to happen when Klaus was sober, but that made sense considering he could only hear or see the ghosts when he wasn't high. However, Vincent wasn't a ghost. He wasn't dead. He was death. There's a difference.
