Smoke burned her lungs, the flames around her licking at her arms at legs. The rumble crumbled when her fingers graced it, leaving behind a burning sensation, as she tried to push against the rocks.

Despite the heat, she was freezing, colder than she ever was. There was no escape. Desperation coursed though her body, clouding her mind and making her heart race. She pushed harder against the rocks, feeling a slight shift of movement. Almost. A little more…please.

A small gap opened up, dull light touching it. She pushed against the rocks, desperate to make the gap bigger…but it didn't budge. She was going to die here.

The flames neared her, the harsh glow stinging her eyes. Closer and closer until all she saw was a hazy darkness.

The day started fairly normal, all things considered.

Nightmares like that were normal, though more frequent of late. Not that she minded much. It was best to shove them to the very back of her mind, as far and as deep away as possible. Adjusting the dark burgundy bow, clipped in the back of her hair. She buttoned up the final buttons of her white shirt, adjusting her short plaid burgundy and navy tie, smoothing down her plain burgundy high-waisted pleat skirt.

Marcus always said, "Look good, you feel good", a motto most of her siblings had repeated over the months. Being consistently in the public eye, if not out taking down criminals, or doing TV interviews. You 'represented The Sparrow Academy at all times.'

It was why, most of what she owned from her head to toe, was Sparrow Academy issued. Custom made by a tailor since she'd been here. Pulling on her matching burgundy blazer, shining the small sliver buttons, she carefully dusted the emblem on her left shoulder. A sparrow, a pair of crossed swords, a red eye with a teardrop, and a keyhole displayed, with the quote: "Canticum in Tenebris,", song in the dark.

That's what they were, light in the darkness.

Light. Clary sighed, pulling on her long dark navy socks, slipping them into her custom Sparrow Academy issued sneakers, taking a look in her mirror. She smiled at the reflection, polished and elegant. Distinguished and proud.

Good.

Breakfast was a short, simply grabbing a banana and a cup of tea from Grace, before checking her schedule. Another slow day, it seemed.

She'd already done early morning training with the Sparrows, showered and dressed for the photo session for some magazine she didn't both to remember, that she needed to attend. Breakfast was done before she gotten to the stairs. That just left, the photography session, lunch, Monocles mandatory visit, training, doing Graces maintenance, training and supper.

She had some time to kill.

"What are doing out here?" Marcus asked, pausing his shirtless rooftop workout. It was cheesy, but it brought out large numbers of fans, and fans were 'good for business'. Another motto that was repeated around here. Marcus flipped off the bar on the ledge. "Aren't you meant to be at ELLEE for the shoot?"

"Its in a hour, I can just fly there." she said dismissively, rolling her eyes at Marcus's 'disapproval face'. "What? I can't have a turn with our adoring fans?" Clary asked, skipping next to him, glancing down. A large mass of people, with picket boards and signs, screaming, and cheering below.

"I didn't say that…" Marcus said, wiping his sweat. "It's just…you should be more careful, after-"

"You mean the time, when one of the photographers tried to snap a picture up my skirt and Ben skewed him?" Clary said calmly, jumping on the ledge. A horde of screams echoed out, nearly as deafening as when Marcus threw his shirt of the roof earlier that morning.

"I don't know why you were so worried-" Clary sang. "I mean, you know were have shorts underneath and Ben did a public service. Plus our approval rating went up-" Clary raising her hand, waving to the crowd below. "No harm, no foul, right?" she said, a warm breeze passing over, making her hair and her skirt gently flow with the wind. The screams intensified, making Clary smirk. It was so funny to watch them freak over such…normal things.

"I'm just concerned," Marcus said, his eyes drifted to the crowd below. "You've got way more attention on you than we did at your age-"

"It's because I have a strong intellect and a charm that's suited to all ages." Clary quoted, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Plus, I'm way prettier."

Marcus snorted. "Where'd you read that?"

"Teen Voguue, pg 10 to 13. Titled, FOR THE GIRL WHO HAS EVERYTHING. I'd show you the copy, but Ben used it to smash a fly."

"Seems a bit dramatic." Marcus said, tossing his towel over the edge. Roars from below echoed out again.

Fame, fortune, superpowers, celebrities, good-looks, good food, everything and anything able to be given to them on a golden platter. No wonder they seemed to worship them. From the outside looking in, they had it all.

"Not wrong." Clary said, giving one last wave, jumping of the ledge onto the roof. "I do have…everything."

If only they knew how wrong they were.

The shoot ended quickly, allowing her some time to wander out and about for a while without an audience. Coming up to the small diner, she pushed open the doors, to the pinstripe pink and white walls. Griddy's Doughnuts had been open for years. It had been a popular place, long before her time. Now it was desolate, quiet. Peaceful.

"Good afternoon, Agnes," Clary said, catching sight of the older woman in her pretty pink uniform. "How are you today?" she greeted, sliding into a chair on the counter. Agnes smiled. "Wonderful, how are you today Clarissa?"

"Unbelievably bored."

Agnes giggled. "The usual?"

"Yes please," Clary said, leaning back on the stool, surveying the diner. She was the only customer at the moment. She'd found the place on accident, like her feet knew where it was before her mind did. She supposed that must have been true. She'd been brought to the Sparrows with no memory, but her name. Deep cuts on her arms and a empty, but destroyed briefcase.

'You know, my siblings and I used to love coming here.'

Her breath hitched, her eyes flying around the diner. Not again.

'We'd wait till Dad went to sleep and sneak out though the back door…eat donuts till we puked…"

Snap out of it. Now. There's nothing here. It's in your head. There's nothing here.

"You would have liked donuts…tell you what…when we get back, I'll take you there…'

"Here we go," Agnes said, setting down the mug of hot chocolate and the single cinnamon sugar dusted donut. "Anything else? Clarissa?" Agnes asked. Clary shook herself out of her stupor, shaking her head. "No, no thank you." she breathed out, doing her best to easy her heart-rate.

It was terrifying when those distorted voices spoke.

Agnes nodded, glancing at the door. "Are you expecting company today?"

"No, I'm not…" she mumbled quietly, cupping the mug in her hands. Agnes always asked that whenever she came here. Every time she said no, she had the strangest feeling like…she was lying.

"You sure?" Agnes asked. "You always look like your waiting for someone."

Feels like that too, she thought to herself. "Yeah…I suppose."

"Now we'll go back to Nancy, say Nance, what's our top story?

"Well, it's a fan favourite. As early reports stated, Number Eight, AKA Clarissa Hargreaves. The newest and youngest member was sighted with Number Two and Number Seven in a nightclub. While it's unclear whether an undercover mission took place or not, it appears the Sparrow Academy heroes are able to serve justice and looks from the footage that we've seen.

Number Eight, most recent member of the Sparrow Academy, has been making waves since she debut, whether it be saving people, animals or style. Number Eight has proven herself an valuable member of the Sparrow Academy-

"Do we have to watch this?" Clary asked, taking a bite out of her pasta. While the starry-eyed report began to launch into details about everything, from her hair-colour to what size shoe she wore. "I mean, isn't the news, meant to tell people about important things, like…crime reports, the weather-"

"You." Jayme teased. Clary threw her napkin at her. "Shut up. I'm serious, don't they have anything better to talk about-"

"You're still new news to them, Clary. It's a superhero popularity boost they want. They'll milk it for as long as they can. Keeps their ratings up." Fei said calmly. "Not to mention they love the whole hidden heroine angle, saved by the public favourite heroic, ice-cold bad boy, Ben- "

"They seem to be forgetting the amnesia, nearly hit by car angle." Clary grumbled, stabbing her fork in her pasta.

"Hey, hey, take it easy, that's tagliolini. You eat it gently." Alphonse chided, setting down his third bowl on the table, sliding into the seat next to Jayme. Clary rolled her eyes, but gently took the pasta in her fork. "Happy?"

"Very."

Clary sighed, doing her best to drown out the news. That Jayme decided to put louder, while steadily maintaining eye-contact with her as she pressed the volume up button. Chris floated in, warbling out a greeting, with a course of 'Hi Chris' before hovering above next to her warbling his message. Clary nodded. "Got it, tell Monocle I'll be there soon."

"Ohh…time for you and Dad to be looking for ghosts." Alphonse said. Jayme snorted. Clary pushed back the chair, tired of this topic too. "We're not looking for ghosts."

"You're totally looking for ghosts." Jayme drawled. Alphonse humming the 'Ghostbusters' theme song. Fei giggled into her pasta.

"It's not ghosts!" Clary snapped.

"What is then?" Fei asked.

"Annoying." Clary said shortly. "It's like-" she paused. "You know, when you're thinking of something and you can picture it almost, in your mind, but you just can't get the word for it…like…like your forgetting something important, and you just…you search and search your brain for it, but it's like-it's not there…like it doesn't even exist."

"So, ghosts."

"Oooooh…"

"Shut up!"

"Good afternoon, Number Eight."

"Monocle." she said plonking on couch. Monocle moving about the room. It was his one and only joy, that once a week her got to experiment on her. His room was tidy, tea was hot and books and pens were at the ready. Yay.

"Shall we begin?"

"Meds first, remember?" she said, pulling out the pill bottle from her skirt pocket, tossing it to him. He caught the bottle, shifting it around in his hand. "Yes…but since, do you really think it's wise-"

"Please just take the damn pills," Clary said tiredly. "We can't keep on having this fight, specifically when you have children that can crack open your larynx and force feed them to you."

Monocle hummed, still uneasily turning over the bottle with today's medicine in his hand. Clary sighed. "It's not poison." she said gently. "It just to make sure you're heart doesn't stop when we're not looking, okay?"

Monocle sighed. "Very well." he said, downing the pills, with his water, tossing her the empty bottle. Clary caught it, putting it back into her pocket. "Thank you."

He nodded, clapping his hands together. "Well then, shall we begin." he said excitedly. She didn't really have much choice in the matter. Still she forced on a smile, trying to be enthusiastic about being poked a prodded for the next hour or so. "We shall."

"It's not ghosts. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy." she grumbled, tossing her journal, lying down on her bed. "I'm not crazy."

"Dallas Love Field, the Dallas-Fort Worth area broadcasters bring you a special description of the arrival of President John F. Kennedy. And the crowd yells, and the president of the United States-" the radio blared out.

"How are we on your end, Five?"

"Good. You?"

"Fine."

"Dallas police out here in force today, doing a beautiful job of handling the crowd along with a contingent of Texas Rangers-"

"Five, what's going on?"

"- it'll turn on Houston Street and go past-"

"FIVE!"

"-Until the president's security and safety are confirmed-"

"CLARISSA!"

BANG!

"Hey, you okay?" Sloane said, knocking gently at her door. Clary sat up, taking a few deep breaths her heart still racing, the sound of the bullet and the screams ringing in her ears. "Yeah, I'm just a little…out of it," she mumbled, lying back down. Sloane laying next to her. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No." she said shortly, before turning to Sloane. Sloane's thick glossy hair gently tickling her face.

"Hey, Sloane, who's room was this before mine?" Clary asked. "I mean, not offense to their decorating skills, but…weird wallpaper.." she said, glancing at it. It was fairly boring, and normal to the rest, besides the strange image of a boy wheeling a small red cart with a sort of doll in it. Pretty weird image.

"It wasn't anyone. Though, Dad did insist on you having this one, since you arrived." Sloane mused. Clary chuckled. "How long has that been?"

"Almost a year now" Sloane said, playfully poking her on the side. "Can barely believe it…feels like you've been here forever. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"You'd manage."

Sloane chuckled. "Come on, like it or not…you brought us closer, made us a real family again."

"Maybe that's my real superpower," Clary mumbled. Her others kinda sucked at the moment. Sloane smiled. "Maybe it is. I think you're heart's your biggest superpower."

"Oh, that's so cheesy."

"I know." Sloane giggled.

Clary sighed. "You know, I don't know what I'd do without you, Sloane." she said softly. "You're the best sister I could have asked for."

Sloane smiled gently, stroking her hair, giving Clary a hug. "Ditto."

"Hey, Benny-boo," Clary sang, sauntering into his room.

"Don't call me that." Ben said, not even bothering to look up from his drawing. Clary pouted. "Aw, but it just rolls of the tongue so well," she said bounding up to him, leaning over his shoulder. Ben's pencil froze in place. "You know I'm not against punching children."

"I know, just like I'm not above smacking octopuses." Clary replied smoothly. "That's why I'm your favourite." she said moving towards the bed. Ben smirked. She got him there.

"What'd you want, I'm busy." he said, his pencil moving about the page again. "Don't jump!" Ben said, whipping around. She jumped on the bed, bouncing up and down, making the springs squeak. Ben sighed. "You're an heathen."

"I love you too." Clary said, leaning over picking up a book from the stack that he hid on the other side of the bed.

"What do you want?" he asked, turning his attention back to his drawing. Clary flicked though the pages absentminded. "Want, it's such a demanding word-"

"Spit it out. Unlike you I've got important shit to do."

Clary snorted. "What like clubbing or drawing a long lost sweethear-"

Ben slammed his pencil down. "What do you want, Clarissa?" he said, turning around, giving her his full attention.

She raised her hands in a surrender motion. "Okay, chill." she said, picking up the book again. "Marcus and Fei are looking for you..something about quarters or morters-I don't know, I stopped listening half-way-but-"

A loud droning blaring noise rang out. "What's that?" Clary said covering her ears. Ben jumping up grabbing his blazer off the chair. "The alarm. Lets go."

"Fine." Clary grumbled, tossing the book on his bed. "This better not be a 'reaction' drill, those are so-annoying-" she said, turning down the hall, into the main living room. To, well…a a room fill of weirdos.

"This isn't your home." Monocle said fixating the newcomers, with his, well his normal face.

"What are you talking about?" said the one of them. She was pretty. Tall, with long deep brown hair with bangs and like the rest of her group dressed black. "This is the Umbrella Academy."

"Wrong again." Monocle said calmly. "This is the Sparrow Academy."

"Dad," Ben said sharply. "Who the hell are these assholes?"

Clary shrugged slightly, surveying the group; who let out a collective: "Shit."


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