Eight months, one week, two days, seven hours, and thirty four minutes before Sententia.
Spaceboy liked the Moon. When he'd first set up permanent residence there about six years ago he'd missed the noise. Back at home there had always been noise. Even at night there had been noise. Someone always had insomnia in that house. If they didn't, then he'd be woken up by Kraken coming in at odd hours.
After the first week he had learned to enjoy the silence. It had been good and given him time to think. He had missed Pogo, but the more time he spent away from that house the better. Even he had ended up hating that house in the end. More and more he realized that he had been turning a blind eye to things that shouldn't have been ignored. Horror's death had started him down the road to wanting to leave. Rumor getting married had been the last straw. The Hargreeves were complicated.
So he tried to avoid thinking about his family when he could. Except at coffee time when the world was fuzzy. At those times he would stand, sipping his coffee and staring at a wall plastered with newspaper clippings. His eyes would always settle on the older ones from when they were children. When times were good.
After he finished his cup of coffee he would chuckle. It rarely turned into a full blown laugh, but that morning it did. He was still deluding himself wasn't he? Times had never been good.
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"Don't worry about it. You'll love your first day of school," smiled Rumor as she kissed Claire.
Claire gripped onto her mother's hand tightly. She looked apprehensively at the school. Rumor's heart ached as she saw how scared her daughter was. She longed to keep her with her, but this was what kids did. Normal kids went to school, and so help her Claire was going to be normal.
"Have a good day. Tell me all about it, alright?"
Reluctantly Claire let go of her mother's hand. She kept looking back before she finally disappeared into the school. Smiling a sad smile Rumor took a cab instead of walking the fifteen blocks back to her house. This was her life now, and she was content. To a point anyway. Her marriage wasn't going so good, but that would work itself out.
Of course, the last fight hadn't really been her fault. It had happened a week ago. Patrick had complained that his new fillings were giving him trouble all day; the dentist said that he didn't need pain killers, and he refused to help her get ready for his dinner party. So it hadn't really been her fault that she had thrown that plate at him when he got angry that it wasn't ready yet. At least Claire had been at a friend's house then.
Unlocking the door to the house Rumor strengthened her resolve to control her temper around from now on, for Claire's sake if for nothing else. She wasn't the kind of woman to get angry and throw fits. That's what she liked to believe. That woman had been left behind with her powers and her mask. Her name wasn't The Rumor anymore. It was Allison Churchill, housewife and mother. That was what she wanted.
As she came in she nearly tripped on a pair of red stilettos. Giggling was coming from the kitchen. The door, which had never been closed before, was now. Hands clenching into fists she threw open to door to the kitchen. Patrick looked up and so did the bottle-blonde in his lap. Both of their amused faces turned to surprise. Patrick's lips hunted for words for a few seconds. Then he said;
"I want a divorce."
For a minute Rumor looked from him to the blonde, then back to him. Finally she said;
"I heard a rumor that new filings occasionally come loose and embed themselves into your facial bones, thus breaking your jaw."
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.05 lit up another cigarette. It had been a long day of time corrections and he was tired. After this meeting he was planning on taking it easy, he'd probably only go to three or four clubs. .05 really didn't know why he bothered. The whole thing was losing its excitement, the flavor.
He nodded in acknowledgment when his boss came into the room. .05 only half paid attention to the slides that he was going through. Other things were on his mind, more importantly why his work didn't bother him. Most of those deaths made other people throw up as soon as they saw the corpses. Not only did he not flinch, but he'd done them in the first place. The issue wasn't a concern exactly. It was more like a curiosity. He'd figure it out one day.
".05," he boss said, "your next mission is of vital importance. As usual, the reasons for this correction are highly confidential. You are going to be given the bare essentials in the information field though, once again as usual."
Putting out his cigarette .05 leaned back in his chair. His grunt displayed his lack of enthusiasm.
"You should be excited," his boss said as he gestured with his arms, "Your next job will answer the famous question, who shot J.F.K?"
The next slide came on. .05 grinned as he saw his target.
"Looks like I did."
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"-so then, and this is the really funny part," chortled Séance, "he says to the barman, 'I am the Pope'!"
Séance let out a roaring laugh. The person he was next to in Shinyveiw didn't laugh though. That might've been because he was comatose, but that had never stopped Séance. He stopped laughing abruptly as he heard footsteps. If he didn't watch himself then they'd put him in another straight jacket. Those things were incredibly itchy and it was impossible to scratch.
The ex-con whose name he thought was Harry came in with food. It was odd that he couldn't remember the name of the man who snuck him drugs once a week. Then again, there had been times where Séance had been convinced that he himself was an Albatross. As Harry handed the tray to him he grunted;
"Letter from your father."
Scrunching his face up Séance looked curiously at the envelope that had been placed on his tray. The paper was expensive, and the crest of the Umbrella Academy had been stamped where the return address should've been placed. Snorting he tore it open and read it. His confused face turned irritable, then downright livid. A few minutes later Harry threw a tray into the air, startled by Séance's furious scream of;
"THAT OLD BAT CUT OFF MY ALLOWANCE!"