Episode One: We Only See Each Other At Weddings And Funerals
Part One.
I don't own the Umbrella Academy.
Although she had joined the Umbrella Academy much later than the other children—they had all been seven when Sir Reginald Hargreeves had stumbled upon her—they all had good relationships with her. But she had always been closer to Vanya out of all of them, because most of the time, she understood Vanya the most—they had both felt like an outsider to their own family. Vanya because she had no powers, despite being born on the same day, and her because they had seemed like a family far before she had even seen them for the first time. And although they eventually included her, Vanya had never felt further from them.
When Vanya had first published her book, all their siblings had hated her. All but her. She understood the other girl, understood why Vanya had felt a need to share all her trauma to the world. Perhaps she hadn't been too excited about it—the book had, after all, said almost every secret there was to be said—but she had supported Vanya in the end. Because when you felt like everybody hated you, and you tried to explain why it made you so depressed, the worst thing in the world that could happen would be for those exact people to hate you for that.
But sometimes, she found herself wishing Vanya had never published it, because the other girl spoke often of the death of Ben, and the disappearance of Five.
Ben... how she missed him. He had possibly the most gruesome power out of all of them, a power that shouldn't have been given to a boy like him—soft, sweet, shy. She remembered how much Ben cried every time he had to use his power. He did it in the dead of the night, when their father wouldn't be able to hear him, but she often did. She would usually spend a couple of hours with him, if she could sneak out, just to make sure he would be okay in the morning, but how could they be okay? Could they ever be okay?
She tried to think of happier thoughts, but her mind kept drifting to Five.
And just thinking of him brought a wistful, but sad, smile to her face.
She remembered how he was sometimes cold, but he loved his family to death, and would do anything for them, no matter how much he acted like he hated them. How he, even as a child, had a genius-level intellect, and that sometimes did result in arrogance, an inflated ego, and a superiority complex, but she did have to admit, he was quite intelligent, especially in mathematics. Of how he was one of the only ones out of all of them that would dare stand up to their father.
She supposed it shouldn't have come as a surprise when she realized she had liked him when they were eleven, but she had locked her feelings away. She had seen how Allison and Luther had acted around each other, and she couldn't help the slight disgust that rose at the sight of it. They were siblings. Adopted, yes, but raised as siblings. Technically they weren't, she supposed, but if you ever had to use the word technically while arguing you weren't doing incest... well, you were already in trouble.
And because she found it slightly disgusting to have feelings for someone you should've seen as your brother, she was disgusted with herself. Because she should've seen Five as a brother, nothing else. She shouldn't have seen Five as someone to crush on. But she had.
She remembered crying for hours when Five had disappeared. For the next few days, weeks, months, even, she had hoped he would come back, that he would apologize for leaving for so long and that the only reason he was late was because he had gotten lost. She supposed now that it didn't make any sense, because Five's power was practically teleportation, but she had been desperate for an explanation. For years, she and Vanya had left peanut-butter-and-marshmallow sandwiches out for him in case she returned.
For the second time that day, she let out another hollow laugh. They had been so stupid. Just two teenage girls with wishes that would never come true. Two teenage girls who had desperately wanted their brother back, even though they knew he wasn't coming back.
She had been glad to finally leave the Academy behind. She didn't want to be reminded of the boy she had once loved.
It was raining when she parked her car.
She wondered if all her siblings had come. She knew Luther must've—out of all of them, he had been the most devoted to their father. Out of all of them, Luther was the only one that possibly loved him. Perhaps it wasn't love, but a sort of desperation for recognition. A need to be loved. And their father hadn't loved them, she was sure, but he did favor Luther over all of them. He had even named them in order for their usefulness, and who was Number One again?
Oh. Right. Luther.
That had sounded far too sarcastic, even to herself.
She opened the glove compartment and pulled out her umbrella—a nice, simple, dark green she had fallen in love with the second she saw it—and opened it, already preparing herself for the disaster that would surely come from having all the Hargreeves under one roof. Despite having wondered just moments before, she knew that they would all come. All for different reasons, perhaps, but they would all come.
The rain seemed to set the mood. She shivered. Perhaps she should've brought a jacket. It was too late, anyway. She just had to brave the cold. As she made to go up the stone steps, she heard the screeching of tires behind her, and she turned. It was a taxi, and in the back, sat none other than her favorite sibling—Vanya. If they had been children, perhaps they would've leapt into each other's arms while crying in joy, but they were both grown up now... even if she didn't look at it. She could tell that Vanya hadn't expected her to still look thirteen-years-old after almost seventeen years.
"Vanya," she greeted, descending the steps to give her a warm hug. "I'm glad you're here."
"Hey, Percy," Vanya whispered back as she embraced her sister.
Percy knew that their siblings probably wouldn't be delighted that Vanya had come. She knew that some of them still thought of Vanya as a traitor to their family, for revealing everything, but did they ever think of Vanya, and the traumas she had had to go through when she was a child? Always told that there was nothing special about her, that she wasn't good enough, like the others? That she was useless? That she had always been left out in everything they did? The simple answer was no. They didn't.
"Do you know if they...?"
"I'm not sure," Percy answered. "Allison doesn't. But... Diego does. Klaus... I don't think he's in his right mind most of the time. Luther... I don't know. But listen to me, Vanya. Don't listen to what they have to say. I'm glad you're here, and I'm sure Allison is too. I'm sure Ben and... and Five wouldn't hate you either."
Vanya managed a small smile as the two sisters ascended the steps. "Thank you, Percy."
When she pushed open the doors, Percy Hargreeves allowed a bitter smile to cross her face.
Home sweet home.
The thought itself almost made her laugh.
They had entered the living room—of course they had—and hanging around the room were paintings. Specifically, paintings of the entire Umbrella Academy. While Vanya stood in the middle of the room, absorbing all the memories once again, Percy found herself wandering to the huge painting of Five, somehow not even noticing her mother beneath it.
She had painted it—her father had insisted, after all—but it wasn't a very good painting. To her, it wasn't good enough. Her siblings had been amazed, but she thought it hadn't done Five any justice. He wasn't smiling, instead staring down with a sort of haughty, cold look. Her hands shook slightly. Why hadn't she painted his smile? She couldn't even remember it anymore. Maybe if she had painted it, she would still remember it. She shouldn't have listened to her father. She should've done what she wanted to do.
Because the truth was, Percy Hargreeves still loved Five Hargreeves with all her heart, no matter how much she didn't want to. Because Percy Hargreeves had fallen in love with Five Hargreeves even after seventeen years, no matter how much she hated the idea of loving her own brother. Because Five Hargreeves had stolen her heart all those years ago, and he had never given it back. And Percy Hargreeves wondered bitterly if she had been cursed to live out a loveless life, because the only man she had ever loved was gone. And he was never coming back.
She closed her eyes, letting a single tear trail down her cheek.
There. She had finally admitted it to herself. Even after all those years, she was still in love with the stupid bastard that she never should've been in love with in the first place. In fact, she was almost sure she loved him more than she had before. And she knew she would never love anyone else. Then her eyes snapped back open and she swiped the tear off her face.
She wouldn't cry over him—that was useless. She had cried far too much over him already. There was no point just sitting around and feeling sorry for herself. There was no gain in feeling self-pity. He was gone, and that was the end of the story. He was gone, and she was not. And perhaps she would never love another in the same way she loved Five, but she didn't need him to find her own happiness.
"Percy?"
A familiar voice broke her from her thoughts and she turned around, tilting her head in acknowledgement at the sight of her other sister, who looked surprised at her appearance.
"Hello, Allison."
The TV star flinched slightly, and a cold smile tugged on Percy's lips.
She knew she had changed—and in some ways, she didn't. She still looked exactly the same seventeen years ago—still a young girl—but she wasn't the Percy they had grown up with anymore. Her smiles and ringing laughter was gone, replaced with a coldness and bitterness none of them were used to. No longer did her eyes light up with joy when she saw any of her siblings, but instead, she greeted them with a frosty voice. She was changed, but so were the rest of them. Perhaps the reason her change was so shocking was because she still looked the same, because they expected her to be the same.
"It's been a long time," Percy continued. "You've been busy."
Allison looked surprised at that, and Percy understood why. She didn't contact them—she didn't even use her own phone to call them if she needed to. The only person she ever kept in contact with more frequently than the others was Vanya, and that was because she was just checking up on her sister, making sure that she knew she was loved by at least one person in the family. To the rest of her siblings, however, it was like she was a whisper, a mere memory that they could distantly remember, but wasn't sure if she was ever there.
But Percy Hargreeves loved her family, and sometimes, she wished that they knew, but sometimes, she wished the opposite as well. They had their flaws and their problems—if you were to write out everything on a list, it would be a mile and a half long—but Percy loved them, flaws and problems and all. Because everybody expected the family to be perfect, but they weren't. They would never be perfect, and Percy was fine with that. She loved her family anyway.
"Do you need some clothes?" Allison asked. "For the funeral?"
Percy glanced down at her attire.
Nothing she wore would be considered appropriate for a funeral—white converse, jeans, and a cute, lilac button-up sweater she had found in a thrift store in an attempt to be eco-friendly and all. She had never bothered to buy clothes appropriate for a funeral. She wasn't sure why.
"If you have anything," Percy said.
Allison was taller than her, so if she had anything for Percy, it would be a little loose, but Percy supposed that it would've been better than what she was wearing now. She offered one last smile toward Vanya before following Allison to the latter's room,
As they walked through the halls, Percy involuntarily flashed back to memories of this place, of when life had been so much simpler. Without her permission, a soft smile graced her lips as she fondly recalled all the mischief she and her siblings would get up to all of the time. Perhaps the life they had lived wasn't full of love and support from their father, but at least they had had each other, and had loved each other, and to Percy, that was enough. Thinking back to her childhood with the rest of her siblings was one of the few times Percy ever truly smiled.
She could almost see the younger versions of themselves running down the halls, almost hear the laughter that rang throughout the house. Everything seemed brighter for a second, full of cheer and smiles and happiness—and then the moment was gone, and Percy suddenly remembered that everything was different now, and the only reason all the living Hargreeves were even under the same roof was because their father had died.
All the living Hargreeves.
Percy stopped so suddenly in her tracks that Allison didn't even notice for the first few seconds.
Klaus had always insisted that Five wasn't dead, because he could never see him, and even though everybody else thought he was just insane, Percy had always hoped that he was right, but as the years went on, her strength was failing. How could she continue to fight herself? Half of her told her that Five was alive, that she should never give up hope, and that she should just keep waiting, but the other half whispered for her to just... give up. Because wasn't she tired of fighting? Wasn't she exhausted after giving herself so much false hope over the years?
Because it didn't matter whether or not Five was dead or alive—he wasn't coming back. And if he wasn't coming back... then he was as good as dead.
"Percy?"
Percy blinked, before looking back up at her sister. "Do you think he's dead?"
Allison was evidently caught off guard by the question, because she asked, "What?"
"Five. Do you think he's dead?"
Allison paused. "Percy... I'm so sorry. I... I don't know."
"No, of course you don't." But she didn't mean it in any harsh way, and Allison seemed to understand. "I sometimes wonder if he's still out there, if he's still scared, the same Five we knew..." Her voice cracked. "He left right before Grace decided to give us names. He promised me he was going to show me all the things he had discovered about time travel that day. He promised Vanya and I that we were going to listen to the newest song she learned." Her voice broke. "Five, you liar."
And it was in that moment that Allison Hargreeves finally understood why Percy was so cold, why she refused to love anyone, to show she had any feelings. Why she seemed so emotionless.
"Five loved you," Allison said softly.
"But not in the way I loved him."
Because what was the point in hiding anymore? Percy could see in Allison's eyes that she finally understood. It was something that Percy had never told anyone before, but she was so tired of running, of hiding, of keeping so many secrets. But what Allison said next stunned her.
"He spoke of you often," Allison recalled. "He was always so cold, so calculating, but when he spoke of you... his eyes would light up like he was speaking of the stars themselves. When you walked into the room, he looked at you as if you had created the whole world. When you were around him, he smiled more often than when he wasn't. You were the only person who could make him smile like that, the only person that could get him to show emotion. He didn't just love you, Percy—he was in love with you."
"Please," Percy whispered. "Stop."
And she did, because Percy looked like she was about to start crying. Percy, who had been the sunshine and laughter in all of the Hargreeves' children's lives, had tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Because why was Allison telling her this now? What was the point in telling her now? There was nothing she could do about it now. Even if Five had loved her the way she loved him, he was gone.
"Let's just get you that dress now, shall we?"
Percy nodded stiffly, and followed her sister to her room.
It was safe to say that Percy felt like an absolute slut in Allison's dress. Allison gave her a dress that... well, wasn't exactly a dress. It was a shirt. She had insisted that it was stretchy and would do just fine, but Percy was sure that half her butt was showing, despite Allison's insistence that it looked great. She had no other clothes, though, and was sure that if Luther saw her wearing jeans and a bright purple shirt to the funeral, he would blow his head off, so Percy just went with the dress... shirt... thing. Allison had also offered her a pair of extra black heels that she had brought, but Percy flat out refused. Knowing her, she would probably accidentally trip in the shoes and expose her entire ass for the world to see.
In an attempt to make herself feel less naked, she shrugged on her lilac cardigan sweater... thing, and the colors clashed horribly, but she didn't mind. The house was cold, anyway, and the sweater brought her some sort of warmth. Besides, her clothes were like her armor—they protected her from the harsh and cruel world. She wasn't sure if she could face her siblings without it.
She thanked Allison for the outfit and, when she left her room, found herself wandering toward her old room. She wasn't sure why.
When the door creaked open, she half-wished she had never opened it in the first place.
It was clean. Someone, probably Grace, had actually decided to dust everything, even after she had been gone for so long. Other than that, however, everything looked exactly the same. It was plain; of course it was. Reginald hadn't allowed any of them to keep anything useless in their rooms... and he deemed quite a lot of things useless. However, he usually allowed them some sort of variety, like with Five and his gigantic chalkboard, and Vanya with her violin equipment. Percy? She had been allowed a bookcase to store all her favorite books.
Their father hadn't exactly been keen to let them read silly books about magic and friendship and all the normal books children her age should've been reading about. No. Instead, he had only allowed them to read books on science, on math, and things like that. So when Percy trailed her fingers over the cool, glossy spines of the books that her father never would've approved of, she let a small smirk grace her features. These were one of the few signs of her rebelliousness—because she knew her father never would've allowed her to keep books such as Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter or something like that.
Her fingers brushed over the cold bed that she hadn't slept in for over a decade. The entire room felt cold, uninviting, drained of all the warmth and laughter that she remembered had once graced this place. She wasn't sure if it was because nothing truly alive lived here anymore—Pogo, despite being like a father to her, wasn't exactly a human, and Grace was a robot—or if it was because almost every happy memory she could think of that happened in her room was linked to Five.
Five... oh, how she missed him. Him and his stupid smirk and his laugh and the way he made her feel so loved in a family that had no love, really. When he would let her ramble for hours upon hours about her books, and he even paid enough attention to be able to hold entire conversations with her about said book after her rants. The way he'd hold her whenever she cried after she got injured, whether it be during training or when a mission went slightly wrong. The way he caredabout her, and actually listened to her.
And for the second time that day, Percy found herself silently crying over the boy that had stolen her heart, but had now been reduced to nothing but a mere memory.
A sudden knock sounded throughout the room.
"Hey, Perce? You okay? I heard some crying."
"Hello, Klaus," she whispered, wiping furiously at the tears that still trailed down her cheek. "I'm fine."
The door opened, and then she heard her brother exclaim, "Jesus, Percy, you look like an absolute slut."
And despite herself, she couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out from her lips because god, she missed Klaus so much, and his talent in somehow lighting up an entire room with just a few words. She wasn't sure if he knew he had such power, but she could always trust Klaus to always help brighten up her mood if she was in a sour one.
"I didn't have any funeral clothes, so Allison lent me some of hers," she explained.
"And you still look thirteen," he noted. "Did you notice that, or did anyone not tell you?"
Her lips twitched. "I know that, Klaus." She wiggled her fingers. "A bit of magic here and there and... lots of moisturizing too."
And then she stepped forward and pulled the other boy into her arms, hugging him tightly, much to his surprise.
Percy often had a radio with her tuned into the news, but it wasn't like she was ever actually interested in it. No, the reason she had it on was to check for Klaus. Because she couldn't even count the number of times her heart had stopped when the police had announced they found a dead junkie. Because she always needed to make sure that Klaus was okay, that he was safe, and if she heard that kind of news on her radio, she would immediately rush to the location just to make sure it wasn't Klaus.
Because even if Klaus Hargreeves didn't love himself, Percy loved him.
They didn't need to speak—just embracing each other was enough, because it spoke words that neither sibling was ready to say to each other. It was enough because it reminded the other just how much they loved each other, and it was a silent promise to one another that they would always be there for the other. And Percy just hoped that, no matter how deep or dark of a hole Klaus fell into, he would always know he would have a place in her heart, and she would always love him. Because perhaps they had grown apart in the years, but he was still her brother.
Finally, Klaus said, "Luther wants a meeting. Let's go."
And Percy reluctantly let him pull her to the living room.
She wasn't sure if she could bear to see Luther again—although she did hold a soft spot for her brother, Luther didn't hold one for her. He had always disliked her—barely tolerated her—and she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because she had joined the Umbrella Academy later than the rest of them, and he saw her as an outsider, as a threat, as someone who didn't belong in their family. But perhaps he had changed. Perhaps he had decided he did love Percy now. There was only one way to find out.
She gingerly settled herself down in the chair right beneath Five's painting, as if fate was just playing a cruel game with her. As they waited for the rest of her siblings to come, her eyes wandered up to the huge painting, studying the strokes that she had done so many years ago. Perhaps she should've continued with painting. She had quit as soon as she had finished that painting. She didn't think she could look at paint brushes in the same way again. That was why, instead of a painting, there was a statue of Ben. Because no matter how much Reginald had insisted, she refused to paint another painting of her dead sibling. He had punished her for it, but it had been worth it. To her.
She was so lost in her thoughts, a blank look in her eyes as she stared up at the painting, that she hadn't even noticed the rest of her siblings filing into the room. She didn't notice the almost pitying glances they gave her when they saw just exactly what she was looking at. Because, no matter how much Klaus insisted that Five wasn't dead, they all believed the opposite. Because if he were alive, how could he have just left them in the way that he did? How could he have just abandoned them?
"Um..." Luther's voice snapped Percy out of her thoughts, and she turned around just to see him rise from his seat on the couch. "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 Dad's favorite spot."
"Dad had a favorite spot?" Vanya asked.
"You know, under the oak tree." When everybody looked down, looking slightly confused, Luther continued, "We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?"
"Will there be refreshments?" Klaus asked, gaining a small laugh from Percy. "Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner."
"What?" Luther asked incredulously. "No. And put that out. Dad didn't allow smoking in here."
"Is that my skirt?" Allison demanded.
"What?" Klaus asked, turning around. "Oh, yeah, this. I found it in your room. It's a little dated, I know, but it's very breathe-y on the bits."
"Listen up," Luther snapped. "Still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?"
"Like what?" Diego asked, but there was something about the tone of his voice that made it sound like he knew exactlywhat Luther was going to say.
"Like the way he died," Luther answered.
Diego scoffed, shaking his head. "And here we go."
"I don't understand," Vanya said, confused. "I thought they said it was a heart attack."
"Yeah, according to the coroner."
"Well, wouldn't they know?" Vanya questioned.
"Theoretically."
"Theoretically?"
"I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened." Everybody was looking at Luther in disbelief, but he either didn't notice or he was just ignoring everybody. "The last time that I talked to Dad, he sounded strange."
"Oh, quelle surprise!" Klaus said, gargling his drink.
Everybody just gave him a look, as if completely done with him, before Allison turned back to Luther and asked, almost curiously, "Strange how?"
"He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust."
"Luther," Diego began, rising from his chair next to Percy, "he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles."
"No," Luther insisted. "He must have known something was going to happen." He tore his eyes away from Diego and turned to Klaus. "Look, I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad."
Allison scoffed slightly, raising her glass to her lips, while Percy adopted a frown. She knew that while all her siblings only thought of Klaus as a junkie and an alcoholic who couldn't be relied on to do anything... none of them understood why he did drugs, or drank. They had ever bothered to ask. But Percy knew why. She was one of the only ones who had cared enough about Klaus to ask why.
She wondered how her siblings could be so selfish. They had all undergone so much trauma throughout their childhoods, but none of them had ever bothered to think of the others, of the trauma that the others had to go through as well. They all thought themselves to be the most important—sometimes, she wondered if it would kill them to show a little bit of compassion.
And then she wondered if she was the same. If she was just a hypocrite, if she was just as selfish as the rest of them, if she cared only for herself and lied to herself about being selfless. Because she was, wasn't she? If she had really cared about her siblings, she wouldn't have all but ceased contact with them. She wouldn't have just abandoned them. Because the truth was, she left because she couldn't keep living with them, because she hated living with them. Because she was selfish, and she hadn't thought of her siblings when she left. She hadn't thought about the fact that they had just lost another brother, and they had to lose a sister as well.
"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?'" Klaus said in exasperation, waving his hands around for dramatic effect.
"Since when?" Luther asked, almost accusingly. "That's your thing."
"I'm not in the right..." Klaus paused, as if searching for the right word. "Frame of mind."
"You're high?" Allison said, her tone hard.
"Yeah! Yeah!" Klaus said, half-laughing. "I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?"
"Well, sober up," Luther snapped, "this is important. Then there's the issue of the missing monocle."
"Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?" Diego muttered.
"Exactly. It's worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge."
"Where are you going with this?" Klaus asked.
"Oh, isn't it obvious, Klaus?" All eyes turned to Percy, who had finally faced Luther, a bitter smile on her face. So many years had passed, but it was like nothing had changed. "He thinks one of us killed Dad."
For a few moments, everybody was too stunned to react. Everybody just stared back at Luther who looked like he was about to strangle Percy, but he made no effort to deny what she had said. Percy scoffed slightly, rolling her eyes, rising from her seat, unable to deal with her family any longer. They had been under a single roof for less than an hour, and they were already accusing each other of murder. How fantastic.
"Oh my fucking god," she muttered. "Over ten years and nothing has changed."
"You do!" Klaus gasped.
"How could you think that?" Vanya demanded.
"Great job, Luther," Percy said lightly, patting his shoulder as she passed him, but she, for the first time in her life, was almost angry at Luther. "Way to lead."
"That's not what I'm saying," Luther said, but his voice sounded weak, even to his own ears.
"You're crazy, man," Klaus said almost harshly, rising from his seat. "You're crazy. Crazy."
"I've not finished," Luther called after them, but Klaus just said:
"Okay, well sorry, I'm just gonna go murder Mom. Be right back."
"That's not what I was saying. I didn't..." he trailed off, sighing. "Allison. Jeez..."
"Family is all about trust, Luther," Percy said coldly, making Luther wince slightly. "Maybe you should trust us a little more."
And then she turned on her heel and followed her siblings out of the room, and toward her own.
So originally, this chapter was supposed to be just one, epic, like 20k word thing (because I had planned for this book to be one chapter per episode), but then I decided that was too painful to actually write and just decided to cut it down to about a third of the episode, so you'll be getting these chapters in bits of the episode.
I'll keep the episode number on top anyway just because, I guess. The number in the chapter area written out is the chapter of the book, the number in numerical form is the episode.
Anyway, thanks for reading!