“So,” Klaus announced and clapped his hands together, “What’s the plan, team? Champagne and confetti? Shots? How are we celebrating the not-end of the world?” “We’re thirteen, dipshit,” Diego responded, and then took a moment to process that for himself. “Fuck.” Number Five looked like he wanted to say something along the lines of “Now you know how I feel”, but he was man enough not to. Klaus applauded him in his head. He wouldn’t have had the restraint. - Or, the Hargreeves siblings after the apocalypse.