30 Years Later
It had been a cold day, like usual, and it didn't seem like the weather ever went above freezing. Well, what did you expect from a dark, dull place like England?
I had been living in London for nearly 6 years now and had partly become accustomed to the British temperatures. However, the inconsistent flow of rain never failed to shock me as it starts and stops and starts and stops before fully pissing it down. How lovely.
I get home after another exhausting shift in the hospital. Locking the door and not bothering to hang or put anything away in its proper place, I drop my bags and coat onto the floor in the foyer and shake off my shoes before making my way to the living room. With a sigh, I dramatically flopped onto the couch.
For the first time today, I go to pick up my phone, but before I can do so, the house phone rings.
Groaning in annoyance, I debate whether to just ignore the stupid ring of the telephone or to just answer it. I decide on the latter, wondering who it is that would want to phone me. I crawl to the other side of the couch to pick it up from the small table that resides next to it.
"Hello?" I answer.
"Miss Y/n," it was Pogo, "you might want to sit down for this."
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The Next Day
After the rather lovely phone call Pogo had blessed me with last night, I caught the earliest flight I could get back to the horrible place my siblings and I called home: The Umbrella Academy.
It had been a lot later than I would have hoped when my plane landed. My flight had been delayed. Just my luck, eh? Though that didn't stop the excitement running through my veins at the thought of my dear old daddy being dead.
After all the stupid waiting at the airport— waiting for my bags, going through security, and the other irrelevant blah blah blah stuff— I nervously look out of the taxi that had finally stopped outside of The Umbrella Academy.
I was going to see my siblings for the first time, in which had to be at least 12 or 13 years. Very nerve-racking.
I ask the taxi driver how much and give him his desired amount before hopping out. Staring at the entrance, I can't help but feel angry at how it looks exactly the same as it did before I left. I give my arms a shake, let out a forced breath, and decide not to dawdle and just go inside to get it over with.
The doors creaked as I used some strength to push them open. I stand in the opening for a while, picking at my fingers and just taking in all the old memories. Looking to the right, my eyes suddenly land on the elegant painting of Number Five in the other room.
"Miss Y/n," I swivel around to see the one and only Pogo, "Welcome home." He smiled.
I smile back as I bring him into a comforting hug. "Oh, Pogo! It's lovely to see you." I pull away, placing my hand on his shoulder. "How have you been? not too lonely, I hope?"
"I've been alright, Miss Y/n; Master Hargreeves was quite the company." Seriously? dad? being company? Pogo, don't make me laugh. I give him a funny look but quickly place a smile back on my face. I bet Pogo was actually upset that dad was dead. "It's so nice to see you too."
I just give him a little hum of acknowledgment, turning back to Five's painting and walking further into the room.
I spot movement in the left corner of my eye, "Vanya?" I question, shocked.
"Y/n? How— how have you been? Oh my God." Her face is full of shock and relief.
"Hey, Vanya. I've been okay, you know, just working and doing other normal stuff." I walk over and give her a small hug, squeezing her small frame. "What about you? You been okay?"
She smiles at me and says, "Yeah, just working and doing other normal stuff." She recites, though she seems a little sadder. Probably because she is normal and ordinary. It's what she should be doing.
I notice the book in her hand. 'Extra Ordinary' it read.
"Oh! I loved your book, by the way. Though maybe you shouldn't have told the whole world what pricks our siblings, me included, are ..." I laugh, feeling a little embarrassed, thinking about what was said about me in the book, but she just looks down awkwardly, "But, erm, each to their own I guess." I continue. However, she doesn't seem to want to talk anymore. Way to ruin the mood, Y/n.
"Welcome home, Miss Vanya." We both turn around to see Pogo. Vanya walks over to give him a hug, while I also walk over, only to stand and stare at Fives Painting once more.
My heart fills up with guilt and sorrow thinking back to when he was here. Gosh, how I missed him and his stupid face, and how he would obsessively— which was concerning, by the way— make those disgusting peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches. I have no idea how he managed to scoff them down without throwing up. Yuck.
"How long has it been since Five disappeared?" I hear Vanya say. I turn around to see both her and Pogo facing his painting.
"It's been 16 years, four months, and 14 days," Pogo answered. It's really been that long? It seemed only yesterday when Five insisted that I help him learn how to time travel and promised that he'd take me with him. We were so silly. "Your father insisted I keep track."
Vanya looks down in thought before speaking, "You wanna know something stupid? I always used to leave the lights on for him," She looks over to me to see if I was listening, and I was, "I was scared that he would come back; it would be late, and the house would be dark and he wouldn't be able to find us, so he'd leave again." She continued sadly. "So, every night, I'd make a little snack and make sure all the lights were on."
"Oh, I remember your snacks," Pogo smiled. "I'm pretty sure I stepped in half of those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches." I let out a small giggle at the thought of poor Pogo having to clean up a squished and mushed-up peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich every single night.
"I don't have a clue how Five even ate those things; they were disgusting." I add on with a laugh; Pogo even managed a small chuckle too.
Pogo glances back at the painting and sighs. "Your father always believed that Number Five was still out there somewhere," Pogo adds with a shake of his head. "He never lost hope."
Vanya's gaze lands on him. "And look where that got him." Vanya walks out without saying another word.
Pogo places his hand on my shoulder and gives me one last smile before also walking out. Going off to greet another messed-up sibling, I'd wager.
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I decided that after my weird greeting with Vanya, I was to explore my old home, and so that's what I'm doing now.
I had already had a little spy into my old room, and as I had imagined, all that was there the last time I was here was still there. Everything had at least a speck of pink on it, and if not, it was just fully pink. Of course, I still loved it, even if I was a nearly 30-year-old woman.
Sighing, I set myself down on my oddly comfortable bed and give myself a moment to take in everything that's happened in the past day or so.
Though my moment of peace is ruined when I hear a knock at my door, "Y/n?~" Klaus sings.
"Occupied!" I shout, not really wanting to be bothered right now. Of course Klaus doesn't give one, so he comes in anyway.
"My baby, sis-!"
"-We're the same age, Klaus." I interrupt him.
"-Oh my God! You don't look a day over 18!" He ignores me and instead launches himself onto my bed to give me a huge hug. I hugged him back, actually really happy to see one of my favourite siblings. "I missed you, Y/n! Have you been okay?" He chuckles.
I give him a big smile, "I missed you too." I give his arm a squeeze and stand up. "And nope, I need a drink." And with that, I make my way downstairs to make a drink, with Klaus tailing me like a lost puppy and giggling to himself.
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Once Klaus and I are standing in the entryway facing Fives portrait, our other siblings, who were all sat down for the time being, turn to look at us with funny faces. Oh yeah, I forgot to say hi to them. Good job, Y/n! You're an amazing sister!
"Erm, hi..." I offer an awkward smile and an even more awkward wave. Allison gives me a grateful look, like she's relieved to see me, while Luther only manages a closed lip and a very weird-looking smile. Diego just rolls his eyes.
Klaus pulls me along to the bar. I sit in front of the bar while he goes behind and pretends he's a pro bartender. "What shall it be, dear?" Klaus asks in a very poor attempt at what I could only assume to be a British accent.
"Ohh~ a plain old whisky will do, my lovely." I answer, also, in a very awful British accent.
"What are you? A pervy old guy?" Klaus judges my choice of drink with a goofy laugh.
Leaning over the bar, I give his arm a push, and he dramatically falls backwards, making some glasses fall; luckily, none of them smash. "Whoopsy Daisy~" Klaus drunkenly giggles.
"Um..." Luther stands up from where he was sitting, "I guess we should get this started. So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at dads favourite spot." Luther suggests.
"Dad had a favourite spot?" Allison looks at him with a questioning face.
"You know, under the oak tree?" We all give him weird looks.
Klaus stands up from behind the bar and makes his way to our other siblings, obviously pulling me along with him too.
"We used to sit there all the time. None of you ever did that?" Luther continues.
Klaus is quick to ask the irrelevant question, "Will there be refreshments?" He questions Luther, puffing on his cigarette, "Tea? Scones?"
"Fig rolls? Cheese?" I hungrily added on. Yummy!
"Yes!" Klaus agrees: "Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner." I chuckle at him.
While Klaus waffles on about whatever, I sit down next to Vanya.
"What? No. And put that out. Dad didn't allow smoking in here." Luther scolds.
"Yeah? Well, dad's dead." I counter, yawning, and Luther gives me a very disapproving look.
"Y/n." Luther tells me off. I roll my eyes at him and ignore him.
"Is that my skirt?" Allison strangely asks Klaus.
Klaus places my drink down and keeps his in his hand before swivelling around to look at Allison. "What? Oh, yeah, this. I found it in your room." He explains, mumbling a little bit with a cigarette in his mouth, "It's a little dated, I know, but it's very breathy on the bits." He gestures to his special area.
"Klaus, ew. We didn't need to know that." I complain, but all he does is turn around and shrug at me with a teasing smirk.
"Listen up," Luther states, getting everyone's attention back on him. "There's still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?"
"Like what?" Diego asks.
"Like the way he died." Luther states that we should have known that's what he was going to say. Huh? I thought it was a heart attack anyway?
"And here we go." Diego says irritated.
Klaus finally decides he wants to sit down and plops down on the floor in between my legs, so I decide to try and detangle the mop on his head that he calls hair.
"I don't understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack?" Vanya says.
"Yeah, according to the coroner." Luther explains, still stood up.
"Well, wouldn't they know?"
"Theoretically."
"Theoretically?" Allison leans forward in her chair.
"I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened," Luther explained further. "The last time I talked to dad, he sounded strange." This caught the attention of Diego.
Klaus leans back to look at me. "Oh, quelle surprise!" He gurgles, getting his drink on my pants.
"Klaus!" I scold, pushing his head back up with a laugh.
Vanya gives us a look. "Strange how?" Allison asks Luther.
"He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust." Luther seriously said.
"Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles." Diego shut down Luther and stood up, making his way towards him.
"No," Luther quickly said. "He must have known something was going to happen." He explained his thoughts. He looks over to Klaus and says, "Look, I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to dad."
Allison scoffs, taking a long swig of her drink.
Klaus points to himself, shaking his head, "I can't just call dad in the afterlife and be like, "Dad, could you just... stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?""
"Since when? That's your thing."
"I'm not in the right... frame of mind." He explains.
"You're high?" Allison asks Klaus.
"He's high." I pat Klaus's head.
"Yeah! Yeah!" He laughs, waving his drink and cigarette around. "I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?" He leans back onto me.
"I wish I was high." I state, and Klaus chuckles, while all the rest give us annoyed looks.
"Y/n!" Allison disapproves.
"Well, sober up, this is important." Luther says to Klaus, "Then there's the issue of the missing monocle." He adds.
"Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?" Diego argues.
"Exactly," Luther turns to face Diego, "it's worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal."
Holy moly, Luther thinks one of us murdered dad! What the shit! Is he on something!?
"Someone close to him. Someone with a-"
I interrupted, "-You think one of us killed dad? Are you off your fucking rockers? You're fucking crazy, Luther!"
Everyone looks at Luther waiting for him to defend himself, but he doesn't.
"You do?" Klaus stares in disbelief.
"How could you think that?" Vanya asks softly.
Luther stutters, but he doesn't actually say anything.
"Great job, Luther. Way to lead." Diego sarcastically praises before walking out.
"That's not what I'm saying." He finally decides to speak up.
"You're crazy, man! You're crazy," Klaus stands up, putting out his cigarette, "Crazy."
"I've not finished." Luther raises his voice.
"Okay, I'm sorry; I'm just gonna go murder mum. Be right back."
"That's not what I was saying; I didn't..."
Klaus and Vanya both take their leave.
"The moon must have messed up your brain or something, because now you're a fucking weirdo." I angrily say, swiping my drink from the table beside where I was sitting before leaving. Allison following.
"Y/n, Allison... Jeez. That went well." That was the last I heard from him.
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17 Years Ago
"In five, four, three, two...
This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside of the Capital West bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages."
Inside the bank, a criminal is seen pointing his gun around and shouting orders as he walks from the elevator into the lobby of the bank. "Hey! Get them behind the counter!" He shouts, "Now you've put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't wanna do, Hmm?" The same criminal says into his walkie-talkie, "Shit!" he yells after it seems he didn't get a reply from the other end of the talkie.
A young, dark-skinned girl, in what looks like a school uniform, skips over to him with her hands behind her back and smiles at him innocently.
He turns to her and quickly says, "Hey, get back with the others." He points his gun at where the other hostages are tied up.
The young girl looks down and says, "I heard a rumour..."
"What? What did you say!?"
The girl leans forward and whispers into his ear, "I heard a rumour that you shot your friend in the foot."
The criminals eyes gloss over in a pale white, "Hey, dude," BANG! "What the hell!" His friend groans, accidentally shooting his gun as he falls to the ground in pain.
The hostages scream in panic.
"We just heard shots from inside the bank. It's uncertain if any hostages have been harmed in that."
"Up there!"
"There's some movement on the roof. Possibly law enforcement."
A tall blonde boy jumps through the bank's glass roof, landing on another criminal behind the counter. The boy punches the man and throws him through one of the top glass windows in the bank with unnatural strength.
"It looks like one of the armed robbers has been thrown from the bank."
"Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives." A young, tanned boy says, throwing two knives that twist and turn with deadly accuracy before stabbing one of the criminals in the chest.
"I've been in many hostage situations like this, and it can escalate very quickly."
Another small girl with h/c taps one of the criminals on his shoulder, getting his attention. "What? Why aren't you with the others!?" He yells.
"Don't you feel a little hot?" She innocently asks.
"eh? what?" He was confused, until he wasn't. Suddenly he was gripping at his clothes, wanting to rip them off and get away from this fiery feeling. His blood was boiling, literally. He falls to the floor, screaming in agony. His skin was red like a tomato. The girl had just boiled the man alive.
The hostages scream and yell in terror at the sight.
"Screams have just been heard from inside the bank. It is unknown whether it was due to the harm of any of the hostages."
"Get back, you freaks." The first criminal stood on top of the till, pointing and waving his gun around at the gifted children beneath.
"Hey, be careful up there, buddy." Number Two says.
"Can't have you falling now, can we?" Number Eight adds with a sly grin.
"Get back now!" The man yells.
"Wouldn't want you to get hurt." Number Three continues.
"Or what?" Number Five counters as he appears sitting cross legged next to the man. The criminal shoots at Five, but before it reaches him, Five disappears. The man continues to shoot the empty space in panic and looks around for Five in confusion, not knowing that Five had actually jumped behind him. He turns around and goes to shoot Five, but soon realises that Five had swapped his gun out for a stapler. "Ohh! That's one badass stApler." Five is quick to push the stapler into the man's head, causing a massive bloody gash that knocks the man unconscious.
"Although there's been no activity for a few minutes, we're going to stay live on location to make sure we don't miss anything in this hostage situation at Capital West Bank."
"Do we really have to do this?" A small Asian boy softly asked.
"Come on, Six. There's more guys in the vault." Number One pushed.
"Don't worry, after this, we can go home." Number Eight smiles at Number Six.
Number Six nods and sighs, "I didn't sign up for this."
"Now we see the hostages. They're— they're free. They're scared, clearly, but they do seem to be unharmed."
Through the semi-glass vault, the tentacles of Number Six can be seen thrashing around, disarming the shrieking criminals. Crimson blood now stains the newly cracked windows, and Number Sixes beast roars with each kill.
After a moment, Number Six emerges, drowned in red. "Can we go home now?" He shakily asks.
"People are coming out now. It's not the armed robbers. These are young schoolchildren in uniforms with masks on. Jim Hellerman, Channel 2 News."
Seven members of the Umbrella Academy now stood outside the bank, all but two smiling. Number Six and Number Eight, who stood at the end quietly waiting to go home.
"How did you get into the bank?"
"What happened inside?"
On top of a building facing the bank resided two others: Sir Reginald Hargreeves and the last member of the Umbrella Academy: Number Seven, "Why can't I go play with the others?" The pale girl, Number Seven, asked.
"We've been through this before, Number Seven. I'm afraid there's just nothing special about you." He turns to look at her.
"Oh."
Back in front of the bank, Sir Reginald Hargreeves now speaks, "Our world is changing. Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted seven such children. I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy."
Reporters jump in the moment he stops speaking.
"Mr. Hargreeves!"
"Mr. Hargreeves?"
"Channel 9 News, what happened to their parents?"
"They were suitably compensated."
"Are you concerned about the welfare of the children?"
"Of course, as I am for the fate of the world."
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HEYY🤗
If you do find any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes, PLEASE just let me know in the comments, just don't be mean about it, because then I will attempt suicide💔
I'm kidding!!!
I hope you guys liked your power too, because I was trying to find something that I've not really seen in one of these books before, so yeahhh!! Obviously, if you don't, and think it's a little useless, just lmk and I would probably end up changing it.
Okay, I will stop yapping now and hopefully I will have the next half of this chapter out tomorrow💖