Yellow tape lined the edges of the village square as Harold pursued the aisles of the local Walgreens with a sense of almost prudent vindictiveness and a burning feeling of victory in his veins. Sifting through the canned foods with the intent to restock their supply of non-perishables, he listened with half an ear to the commotion going on outside; one created by the hungry pack of reporters that paced back & forth along the yellow-lined border whilst Sergeant Cheddar (one of the local cops) dealt with a particularly persistent member of the public. A quick glance over his shoulder, showed Harold that that person was one of the few people that he didn't particularly want to see right now: Allison Hargreeves.
Ducking behind a particularly heavy-set display of canned tomatoes, Harold superstitiously loitered nearby so as to watch the proceedings play out and occasionally duck behind the cans to avoid detection by the woman. That was the last thing he needed. From what he could tell, the starlet had tried to strong-arm her way onto the crime scene like she owned the place (likely a habit picked up after years of being in the limelight and always getting her way), at least until she was shooed back behind the yellow tape before she could get too far.
Mercifully, Sergeant Cheddar seemed to be doing his best to keep her back & occupied for the time being; hopefully he would continue to do so long enough for Harold to pay & escape without detection. Inwardly, however, Harold cursed at himself for not double-checking the area for further evidence after last night's debacle before they escaped into the night. Because there, clutched tight in Allison's hands, was Vanya's striped scarf. Absently scratching at the gauze wrapped around his hand, Harold recalled the events of yesterday, which had led to such a clusterfuck.
Vanya had been a lot more rowdier as of late and on that trip into town the night previous, it was a fact which had shown itself to be true. Bathed, dressed & stuffed into the wheelchair which had once belonged to his grandfather, Harold had hauled Vanya's ass out of the bathtub for the first time in a couple of days and taken her down to the local watering hole for a 'fun night out' just like they used to do. It was there in the parking lot of the Bearskin Tavern, where they had found themselves confronted by the local grunts that he had hired to rough them up a bit. Harold had hoped that in doing so—in stressing out Vanya as Sir Reginald's notebook had directed him to do—he would be to activate Vanya's suppressed powers and make her see the light. He hoped that in showing her how powerful—how extraordinary—she really was, then she would not only agree to his dreams, but jump at the chance. Afterall, what was better than mother, father and son learning side-by-side how to rule the world?
That being said, Harold had not expected the level of rage that she had unleashed in the assault (for there was no other word for what she had done despite all those drugs plaguing her system) and Harold found himself being reminded of the ferociousness of Garde and their instinct to protect what was rightfully theirs; something which gave hope to Harold. It told him that—no matter how many foul words and sour fights the two had shared—Vanya still cared for him, still deemed him to be one of hers and that meant there was still a chance for this all to work.
Protected in the eye of the storm beside her, Harold had been able to witness the absolute wrath that Vanya had unleashed on the unsuspecting men as an explosion of epic proportions ripped itself free from the practically comatose woman. Kinetic sound ripped through the gathered grunts, tearing them to pieces and throwing them—and the closest storefront windows—across the parking lot; it had been something for the ages and Harold had revelled in it. This was the kind of power that this woman had been withholding from him all along and this was also the kind of power that Theodore had inherited. With them at his helm he would be unstoppable; with them, he could bring the world to its knees.
But only if Allison fucking Hargreeves kept her nose out of their damn business.
The sun had crawled higher in the sky by the time Allison had returned to her car and followed the hastily written directions scrawled out on the napkin in her hand. She had felt a little bad about tricking Sergeant Cheddar into taking her along for the ride in order to find Vanya and then again on the other hand, his persistent gushing & (slight) hero worship had made her almost want to Rumour the man; if only to get him to shut up and tell her what she wanted to know. As it was, the situation had turned out in her favour (likely because of that annoying hero worship) and now she found herself carefully trudging through the forests and the tight hairpin turns of Jackpine Road, where—hopefully—her long-sought quarry lay waiting.
Taking another bite from the sandwich she had purchased from some local cafe (the crumbs had already littered themselves everywhere and she knew that the whole vehicle would smell of egg salad for the rest of the week much to her chagrin; but at least it tasted good), Allison heaved a sigh as she continued up the desolate road. After all this time searching for her long lost sister, she found herself at a loss for what she was going to say if—when—she finally found her again. Their reunion at the funeral had been less than welcoming and the subsequent days trying to get in touch had been less so; not to mention that blowout at the theatre which had left her with a throat sorer than it had been in a while. What was she supposed to say in a situation like this? Because Vanya had made it undeniably clear what would happen should she try to go to Theodore for assistance and Diego had been rather frustratingly tight-lipped about the whole thing; although he clearly knew something considering how quickly he jumped to his youngest sister's defence. Although, that may just have been Allison's insecurities talking.
Eventually the car rumbled around the final hairpin corner and there it stood; the lake-bound cabin at the end of Jackpine Road. She knew it was the right one if only because of the jaunty wooden sign which had been painted with the name: 'JENKINS', the same one that stood out the front by the end of the driveway and swayed side-to-side in the dirt as a wailing breeze buffeted the area. There was no car in the driveway which told her that at least one of the occupants weren't home; Allison silently hoped that that meant that Vanya was still inside, without Harold around to influence her.
Falling from the car, Allison clambered up the porch steps with a wary air as everything in the vicinity of the cabin swayed & rocked to a tune that she could not hear. Although if Allison closed her eyes, she could almost pretend that Vanya was playing one of her ballads, just as she had done when they were children. Just as she had done with Harold's home in Queens (when it had still been standing), Allison didn't bother to knock on the front door, instead—using old heroine skills—she found an opening through one of the bedroom windows, whose latch was loose enough to wiggle open and crawl through. Upon scrambling ever so gracefully through the cracked window, Allison found herself in a child's bedroom; one that must've been Theodore's once upon a time, as told by all the hand-drawn pictures tacked to the walls naming it so.
A small child-sized bed was shoved up against one wall with scratchy blankets that were covered in dust and scrunched up against the end of the bed; likely never having been remade in the years since they had been gone. The large paned window which she had crawled through opened up to a view of the lake & surrounding forestry also housed an old toy box beneath it. The box looked like it hadn't been opened in years, but if Allison were to hazard a guess (mostly thanks to the scratch marks engraved into the floors) she would have to say that the thing had been dragged across the room at some point and used as a stepping stool to escape through the window in which she had just entered.
Although where a seven year old would go in a place like this, was beyond her; unlike the Umbrella Academy, there were no nearby donut diners to sneak into. The walls were busy too, painted in various wooden ornaments that revolved around hunting and/or fishing; like the taxidermied frog-themed night light on the dresser, which looked like it would give you nightmares instead of preventing them. It was certainly a stark difference from her own daughter's bedroom, that was for sure.
Stepping further into the bowels of the cabin, Allison pursued endless halls of log-lined rooms and doily-plated shelves until eventually, she found herself in the back of the house where the bathroom and laundry sat. The laundry room was just what you might expect: a washer & dryer that shared custody of one wall whilst a rusty little shower head could be seen through the glazed window and a series of wires hung overhead for the washing to hang out & dry. Pulling back from the old tiled room, Allison moved onto the last one in which she had yet to check: the bathroom.
Squaring her shoulders, Allison slipped her keys between her fingers like they were tiny & jagged Wolverine claws as she moved to stand in from of the bathroom door, silent and wary. Behind her, the cabin whistled with the force of what she hoped was just the wind, but inwardly she knew that hope was only skin deep. That the unnatural swaying of the dancing trees outside were doing so thanks to whomever lay inside. In front of her the panelling of the bathroom door loomed like something from a nightmare and Allison found herself wondering if she would even be able to open it at all.
Mouth suddenly gone dry with the feeling of cotton leadening her tongue and making it hard for her to swallow around the panic which had settled itself in her heart. Who would she find beyond the door? Did she really want to know? If she left now, what would happen? So many thoughts and questions whirled around inside her mind as she inwardly warred with herself on whether or not she should stay or go. It was the same feeling that had visited her when she had finally decided to leave the Umbrella Academy all those years ago.
Sweaty palms gripped tight to three inches of jagged brass as she spared one last glance over her shoulder, telling herself that it was to make sure that she was still alone in the cabin; that it was still safe enough to proceed. Unlike all the other times when they (the Umbrella Academy) had broken into dangerous places such as this one, Allison had no backup to support her should anything fo wrong. It only made her heart pound louder, although it was still hard to tell over the cacophony that surrounded her. Everything seemed to still as Allison reached for the doorknob, the coolness of the metallic seemingly hissed against her flushed flesh and as she heaved a deep breath to steady herself, she yanked the door open with far more force than was entirely necessary.
What Allison found made her mind go blank and stutter to a stop. She had finally found her sister, alive and whole although (clearly) not entirely there. With the door now open, the songs which had been locked up inside the small tiled room were released in one breath that knocked Allison off of her feet. At least, that was what she was telling herself because the sight of Vanya could have done that all on its own. Looking at her now, she was a shell of a person; a shadow of her sister. Gone was the demure girl she had grown up with, gone was the fiery mother who would burn the world down for her son and instead all that was left was something lifeless and broken that it made her heart ache (the only saving grace was that after checking over the whole house and finding no trace of anyone there, Allison assumed that that meant that Harold must have gone into town, leaving her alone with her sister for the first time in days).
"…Vanya?" Allison quietly called as she stumbled into the room, tears already pricking at her eyes. Her sister was so still; if it weren't for the dancing trees or the gentle rise and fall of her chest, Allison could've sworn her sister was dead. "Vanya? Are you there? Vanya…?"
A quick glance around the room showed an IV drip stood in one corner, the tube reaching down in the bathtub where Vanya lay and attached to her arm. The counter surrounding the sink was occupied not by a hoard of cosmetics like she'd expected, but little orange bottles & other such medicinal accessories and over on the windowsil there lay a battered handheld radio which blared out some news station. Allison assumed that it was supposed to be some sort of sick & twisted torture tactic because all that played was several reports of the LANE attacks in the city and Vanya was no idiot. She would know that they were talking about her son and about others like him; like her.
"Vanya…! I'm so sorry!" Falling to her knees next to the tub, Allison wept as apologised profusely and repeatedly, as she leant over the rim of the tub to grip tight to her sister's hand. This is what her Rumour had done, this is what she had subjected her sister to; it was all her fault, she knew that now. "I—I found out what you didn't want to tell me…I—I found out why you didn't want to tell me about Leonard Peabody. Oh, Vanny! I'm so sorry! I—I found out that his real name is Harold Jenkins, that Leonard Peabody doesn't exist—he never had—because Harold made him up. Only Harold Jenkins. He was in prison for twelve years for murdering his father; so I can see why you didn't say anything, not to us, not to anyone…"
"Alli…son?" Vanya suddenly rasped, her fingers clenching slightly around the ones holding hers as her eyes lit up with faint recognition.
"Vanya?" Allison instantly perked up as her sister seemed to awaken from a deep slumber.
"Don't understand…" Vanya puzzled, "What…what are you…doing here?"
"I—I came to look for you" Allison replied wetly as hope began to bloom in her chest. Maybe they could have a happy ending afterall.
"Why…?"
"Because" Allison huffed, "You're my sister"
"That's never…mattered before"
"It matters! Of course it matters!"
"Since when?"
"Since always!"
"Didn't…seem like it"
"…I—I'm so sorry, Vanny! I'll tell you everything, I promise!" Allison pleaded as she clambered back to her feet, pulling at her sister's wrist as she did so, "But we need to go! Now!"
"Now?" Vanya puzzled, "But we're about to…have a birthday party! Teddy's gonna be…a big boy now"
"I—I know it doesn't make any sense & I know it sounds crazy, but we were in his house and he has all these pictures of everyone—including you and Theodore!"
"That's—that's what a Daddy does, Ali" Vanya smiled giddily, clearly still quite loopy. "He keeps photos of his kids"
"Our eyes were gouged out!"
"…What?"
"I promise that I will tell you everything in the car, but it's not safe here!" Allison pleaded as she tried haul Vanya out of the tub to no avail.
"N-no! Stop!" Vanya protested weakly as she tried to pull her wrist out of her sister's grip.
"I—I know that you love—loved—him, but can't you see what he's doing to you? To Theo?"
"What do you mean?" Vanya practically snarled.
"Look, um, I can't imagine how—how hard it is for you to hear this or how you must be feeling right now" Allison prefaced sheepishly, "But know that I—I love you and that I—I just—I wanna be there for you, as—as your sister"
"This just doesn't…make any sense! You're not making…any sense! I—I don't know what's…going on! I don't know what to do!" Vanya wept shamelessly as her head lolled back against the lip of the bathtub. "I don't understand…what's happening to me?"
"…Do you remember when we were four?" Allison murmured softly as if doing so would make telling this confession any easier, "Dad told us that you were sick, that you had to be isolated from the rest of the family. We were so young and none of us knew to question it. But then Dad asked me to do something that I never understood…until now"
"You…Rumoured me" Vanya amended.
"…Dad made me an accomplice" Allison defended hotly. "I—I just didn't realise it at the time"
"You didn't realise that…he was killing me?" Vanya sneered, her hoarse tone full of venom. So much for making up.
"No, no! I swear I didn't! Not until now! Not until I saw what happened!"
"What happened? What happened was you…you ruined my life! You made me think I was ordinary!" Vanya sneered. "And it was Harold who showed me how special I truly am—how special we are. Which also explains why you never wanted me around, now that I think about it"
"What? No!"
"You—you couldn't risk me threatening your place in the house, could you, Allison? You couldn't have me threatening your dominance!"
"That's not true!"
"You couldn't handle the face that Dad might find me special!"
"You are special, Vanny!"
"Don't you dare call me that!"
"And now we have a chance to start over!"
"You destroyed my life!"
"Oh, please Vanya! Now that everything is out in the open, we can move on! We can be a family again!"
"A family? We were never a real family. I was never good enough for that, remember? I was too ordinary—too dangerous"
"Vanya…!"
"No! Look me in the eye right now and tell me you're not threatened! Look at me and tell me that you're not scared of me!"
"…Please, I don't wanna argue with you!" Allison pleaded, looking anywhere but Vanya.
"Then go!" Vanya demanded.
"I'm only trying to help you, sis!"
"I don't want your help! I don't need your help!" They both knew that that was a lie.
"Vanny, please! I love you—!"
"—STOP SAYING THAT!"
Everything in the bathroom had begun to shake by this point; creaking & moaning like old men as the windows rattled furiously in their panes and the wind outside howled in concert with Vanya's fury. Allison had only wanted to help, but as she glanced about nervously, wary of what Vanya might do next, she found herself wondering if that had been the best idea. At the very least, she knew she regretted coming alone, but there was nothing to be done about that now.
"Are…are you okay?" Allison worried as Vanya paled significantly, turning almost paper white as her eyes glowed a brilliant cerulean blue.
"I SAID GO!" Vanya screamed at her sister, her face full of rage. The lights above their heads burst, the glass shattered & rained around them as the pipes burst, showering the room in (sewer) water.
"Please don't make me do this!" Allison pleaded, tears gathering in her eyes as she thought about what she would have to do. About what she should have done in the first place; about what had started this whole mess too. "I Heard a Rumour—"
"—NO!"
But before Allison could finish her sentence however, Vanya exploded. A wave of lumen—bright and unrefined—ripped itself free form her chest & launched itself across the room at Allison. Accompanied by the wailing of Number Seven's broken heart, Number Three never stood a chance. A look of shock plastered itself to the faces of both sisters; one for what they had just done and the other for what had become of it. Allison choked on her own snatched breath as she was blasted from her feet and blood gushed out of her the new hole in her throat. Suddenly regretting her actions, Vanya tried to leap forward to stop her sister's descent only to become caught on the lip of the bathtub. She was too weak—too sluggish—to move much further.
"NO! No, no, no! Allison! Please! I'm sorry! Please! Please don't leave me!" Vanya wept as she tried in vain to reach her sister. But it was all she could do—entangled in tubes and wet cloth—to cling to the side of the bath and watch as Allison bled out in the hallway, mere feet from her. The last thing that Allison recognised as she flew across the room, was her own guilt at her sister's pain. And then she was blinded by a bright flash of light & the sound of a wailing violin sounded in her ears before immeasurable pain exploded across her body as all sound left her; until eventually, sweet, sweet darkness welcomed her like an old friend.
"ALLISON!"