Welcome to Home, Sweet Home

Willa had never been on a plane before, but nor had she ever been forcibly removed from her mother's arms and adopted as a ward by an old, rich man before. Today was just full of surprises, it would seem, and not one of them were the type that Willa liked, like a birthday present or a bag of lollypops. How had all of this even happened? It felt like the world was ending right now, Willa couldn't imagine how someone could feel like this and still breathe, when she felt as if someone had reached inside her chest and torn out her heart, but yet she still breathed, her heart still beat, she still lived, even though Ma wasn't with her.

Even though she had no idea when or if she would ever see Ma again.

The low rumble of the aircraft was oddly comforting and Willa clung to that tiny scrap of comfort as she sat uncomfortably on a fancy white leather seat within the narrow cabin of the private aircraft, because of course the guy who had kidnapped her, legally or otherwise, would be rich enough to have his own plane. The floor was covered with cream coloured carpet, while several more of the same seats dotted the plane, each one of them having a headrest that had the same symbol stitched into them as the handkerchief, the black umbrella in the circle. The walls of the plane were a similar cream colour, while all of the small, oval shaped windows that lined the walls had the shades pulled down, blocking out the night sky as they flew. It had been an hour since take off and Hargreeves hadn't said a word to her.

The man himself sat in a seat across from her, reading a large paper, the front page depicting some story about a group of robbers who had attacked another bank in Florida, the paper seemingly the New York Times, if the ornate, large bold lettering above the picture of a group of men in masks and black clothing was anything to go off. Hargreeves had disappeared behind the paper the second they had taken off, not saying a word, even when Willa had received a plate of steamed vegetables and crumbed chicken. Desert had been a small container of strawberries and even though Willa had planned to refuse anything, on principle, she was starved, not having had her usual after school snack of a sweet biscuit. Still, Hargreeves hadn't glanced at her, but if he found her chewing or clatter of knife and fork annoying to his reading, he hadn't expressed it, so Willa supposed that was okay.

In truth, she didn't want to chat with her kidnapper, but it was still weird.

It was weird, until Hargreeves finally decided to acknowledge her existents, at least another hour into the flight. He lowered the paper with a rustle and Willa tensed up slightly, head immediately snapping around to him, having been gazing miserably outside of the window that she had pulled the cover up from, even though there was nothing to see in the sky at night. She stared at the man, who calmly folded the paper neatly back up and then placed it off to the side on a small table next to his seat, grey eyes narrowing on Willa. Whatever he saw in her, he seemed to deem it lacking.

"We will need to arrange braces," he said, his first words to her in all these hours, "Your teeth will need to be straightened as soon as possible. While we're at it, I expect you have never had your eyes tested, either. That will need to be checked, and your hair..."

Willa worriedly grabbed her hair; still tied back in the same ponytail she had worn it in all day. She loved her hair, it was long and thick, and it reached the middle of her back. When it was wet, sometimes it would go curly, sometimes in the summer if it was humid it would get frizzy, which wasn't very nice, but usually, it was naturally wavy. It startled her to hear that Hargreeves was already talking about changing her physical appearance, but she guessed that she could live with braces, her teeth did stick out a little and she'd been teased for them before, and glasses wouldn't be too bad, but she didn't think she needed them. Her hair, though...that scared her.

"I don't want to cut it," she told him nervously, eyeing him warily, as if he was about to produce a pair of scissors and start hacking away at her hair, until she was left bald, "I like my hair just how it is..."

His eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance, "A trim, then," he said, slightly stiffly, "It needs tidying, girl. And I expect that if you chose to wear your hair long, you will keep it neat and tied back, but I will not accept any silly hair adornments. You will wear navy blue or black hair accessories, only".

Willa eyed him apprehensively...She loved wearing green hair ties and glittering hairclips, her Ma had got her a packet of them for her birthday last October. But she supposed that if she got to keep her hair long and wasn't being forced to completely clip it all off, she could live with boring navy blue or black. It still sucked.

"Okay".

"'Yes, sir,'" he corrected her immediately, and she blinked slightly at him. His stare was cold, "You will either call me 'Sir' or, you may call me Father, regardless of how you address me, you will do so with respect. I will not tolerate anything less, Number Seven".

Her lips parted slightly in disbelief...he expected her to call him 'Father?' That was just insane, there was no way in hell she was ever calling him that, but 'Sir?' She could live with that, she guessed, she had to call her teachers as school 'Sir,' so it wasn't completely weird for her to call him that, but he wasn't her parent. But then his other words made her pause and frown, a puzzled expression working across her features.

"My name's Willa...sir".

"Not any longer," he peered at her through his monocle firmly, "From henceforth, you will be known as 'Number Seven,' that is your new name and you will only be addressed as such. Willa Scott no longer exists in the world, when we land you will be taken to the Umbrella Academy where you will take your place and position as Number Seven amongst the other children, and Willa Scott will be a name forgotten in Wales".

"But how can I just...disappear?" she asked quietly, horrified by the idea that not only was she losing her Ma and home and Meg, but she was now losing her name.

"The Umbrella Academy is your world now, Number Seven. As Willa Scott disappears from one world, Number Seven is born into a new one. It's how we do things at the Academy, how you will be expected to do things. Do you understand, Number Seven?"

Willa understood that this guy was nuts and she was stuck on a plane with him, she also understood that he now had complete control over her entire life and future, and that she had to get away from him as quickly as bloody possible, but until then...Okay, fine, she could play along with his insanity. If he wanted to give her a number for a frigging name, whatever, she'd grit her teeth and pretend, but it only ever would be pretend. This Academy wasn't anything but a prison, this man wasn't anything more than her capture, and the kids he had probably brainwashed into believing all this rubbish...well, it was probably too late to try and save them now, but she'd give them her sympathy when she took off and try contacting the authorities to help get them away from this bloke that probably made them call him 'Father' and gave them numbers for names, too.

"Yes," Willa gritted her teeth slightly, glaring at him rigidly, "...sir".

He gave her a mildly withering glare, seemingly noting her tone, but he chose not to comment on it, "Allowances will not be made for you, Number Seven," he warned her stiffly, "You will be expected to catch up with the other students in all areas of training and academic success, and failure to do so will not be tolerated," his gaze was cool and intently focused on Willa, who barely held back gulping in fear, "The Umbrella Academy expects great things from its students, Number Seven".

Willa shifted uncomfortably, heart pounding in her chest, fear and insecurity gripping her as she squeezed the edge of her seat, causing the soft leather to squeak slightly. She had no idea just what the punishment might be for failing to live up to the Academies standards, she was too scared to ask, truth be told, but she doubted if she was going to cut it. A decade of training compared to someone who came from the middle of nowhere Wales? She had no chance. Hargreeves was clearly not awaiting an answer, swiftly turning his attention to a second newspaper that he had brought with him for the journey, this one 'The Guardian'. He disappeared behind it and Willa was left alone in the silence of the plane cabin, feeling sick to her stomach with nerves and missing Ma more than ever.

...

Willa hated her old school uniform, the fabric had always felt too rough and stiff against her skin, and it never mattered how much Ma washed or soaked it, it was always stiff. The school jumper had been woollen and itchy, and Willa had never had one that fitted her right, always too big or short in the arms, while her school shoes usually split before she even got the chance to properly wear them in for them to be comfortable, being cheap and made from mock leather that just couldn't cut it in the wet conditions of Wales. But the Umbrella Academy uniform was actually quite nice, made from nice fabrics that felt rich and tailored for her, not just a boxy dress or jumper. The pristine white button-up shirt fitted her perfectly, while a red, grey, and grey trimmed Argyle woollen vest covered the shirt, followed by a dark navy blazer with red piping lining the lapels. A large crest sat on the breast, red and white, sectioned into four squares, each with a symbol in them. One looked like a lightning bolt, another an umbrella, the third a skull and the last one took longer to figure out, before Willa realised it was an eye mask, like something out of a comic book. The skirt fell to her mid-knee, woollen and checked in the same dark grey and red as the vest. There was no tights, just a pair of knee high grey socks and black leather lace-up shoes. The black tie, however, was what caused Willa the most grief.

She had no idea how to tie the damn thing.

She really didn't want to ask for help, especially when Hargreeves was the only one around to ask, since the one and only air hostess on board was sitting up the front, but after five minutes of trying to tie the damn thing, Willa was forced to admit defeat. Hargreeves had told her not to bother with her hair, since the plan was for it to be trimmed upon their arrival before continuing to the Academy, but he had made it very clear that she was to wear her new uniform.

'You had best get used to it, Number Seven,' he had told her, pushing the large, neatly wrapped bundle of clothing towards her, an hour out from their arrival, 'You will be expected to wear the uniform at all times, save for bed and training...'

Willa didn't think he could be serious about wearing the same uniform all the time, but she was starting to realise that Hargreeves didn't seem to have much of a concept of anything outside of the Academy for his students. She looked at her own reflection in the harsh lighting of the tiny bathroom...there was even a tiny shower cubical, just how rich was this guy? Her own reflection looked back at her, hair still pulled back in the messy ponytail, collar slightly croaked with the tie looped messily around her neck, slightly wrinkled from all the attempts to tie it. She really didn't want to, but she had no other choice.

She disposed of the paper-wrapping that had been around the clothing and briefly hesitated on her old uniform. She had hated it, but now that she was supposed to chuck it out, like Hargreeves had ordered her to do, she felt suddenly like keeping it. Still, she did as told, not quite ready to argue with the man who seemingly now controlled every aspect of her life fifty thousand feet in the sky, shoving the paper, her old school shoes, and dress into the rubbish bin, before pushing the bathroom door open. Her ears were starting to pop, forcing her to swallow hard to try and relieve the pressure, and she remembered how they had done the same when they had taken off. She guessed that must mean they were coming back down to the ground. She wasn't ready, but no one had asked her what she wanted or didn't, so what did it matter?

"Better," Hargreeves said upon seeing her, though his stiff scowl didn't disappear in the least. And then his eyes narrowed on her collar, "You will be expected to wear all parts of the uniform, Number Seven".

"I...can't tie it...sir," she admitted, slightly awkwardly, feeling her cheeks warm, "We don't wear ties at school".

"That is no longer your school," he reminded her firmly, and she inwardly grimaced slightly at the mistake. He peered at her, before huffing out a small, almost resigned breathe and waving her closer with an inpatient hand, "Come here. I will show you how to tie it, you will practice. I expect you to learn how to do it correctly before our arrival..."

And so Willa found herself already starting her very first lesson at the Umbrella Academy, though learning how to tie a tie wasn't exactly what she might have expected. She found that he was telling the truth when he said that he wasn't going to go easy on her, he first showed her how to tie the tie, only once, before then ordering her to do it herself. Over and over again, she tied that damn tie, struggling not to grow increasingly frustrated by how many times she skipped a step, how many times she ended up accidently knotting it, all the while acutely aware of Hargreeves sitting across from her, no doubt observing from the corner of his eye as he wrote in a dark leather bound book. But, by the time they were landing, she had managed to at least tie it properly.

It felt kind of nice, like when Ma had taught her how to do her shoelaces for herself. She felt a tiny flicker of accomplishment, but if she expected for Hargreeves to praise her, like Ma would have, she would have been disappointed. Not that she had, but that wasn't the point. The man made no comment at all, barely even seeming to blink when the hostess stepped out of the cockpit to inform them, they wound be landing in five minutes. He had merely nodded impatiently and kept writing in his book...journal? Whatever it was.

Upon their arrival, Willa didn't even get the chance to appreciate the fact that her feet were touching new soil for the first time in her life, before she was whisked off to the side of the aircraft hangar and forced to sit down in a chair, where a rather stony faced man immediately reached up to pull her hair tie from her hair, causing her mop of hair to fall freely around her face. Willa's eyes widened slightly in panic when she noticed him reaching for a pair of scissors.

"A trim, Mr Jones," Hargreeves informed him, standing a few feet away, observing everything with thinly veiled impatience.

Mr Jones nodded and within ten minutes, Willa's hair went from touching her lower back, to mid back, loosing at least two inches of hair. It was enough to make her hair instantly look and feel healthier, tidying up the ends so that it now sat with a clean straight line across her back. Mr Jones even braided her hair, using a navy blue hair-tie to hold it together, before Willa was being ushered up and over to where a nicely polished black Rolls Royce was parked, Hargreeves joining her in the back seat. A driver sat behind the wheel and he smoothly pulled the car out of the hanger and towards the small private airport gate.

It was eight at night, according to the clock on the car dash, but Willa quickly discovered that it really was true what they said about New York never sleeping. Eight at night back home meant that the small village streets were pretty much deserted, too late for most people to be out, too early for the pub goers to be heading home, but in the city it was different. She stared outside the window of the car as they travelled through the streets, glittering lights and cars and people walking making her wish she had a extra pair of eyes so that she could see everything, fascinated by how lively everything was, curious to see any hint of the familiar landmarks that she had seen in movies and TV shows her Ma watched.

And then they were turning off down a part of the city that just instantly looked rich, somehow. Everything was still tall and closely pressed together, but there were more parks around this area, less people sitting on the ground on the pavement, the cars parked along the road looked better cared for and shinny. It was still noisy and bright, but less lurid and obnoxious, and Willa found herself completely unsurprised by the shift. Of course, wherever the Academy was located it was on the rich side of the city, she hadn't expected to find it pressed between a drycleaners and a pawn shop, instead, this area seemed to be largely residential, all of the houses townhouses and brownstones. They turned down a street that was less busy than some of the others, and only then did Hargreeves speak.

"We shall be arriving in less than two minutes," he informed her, not even sparing her a glance, merely looking directly ahead, "You will be introduced to the other children," he then cut his gaze across to her and Willa, who had been gawking out of the window beside her, instantly stiffened and sat back against the buttery leather of her seat, feeling suddenly like he had placed a microscope upon her, "You may find some apprehension and hostility amongst their ranks. You will rise above it. I will not accept infighting".

Willa blinked, startled, "Why would they be hostile...?" she hastily corrected herself when she noticed his narrowing eyes, "...sir".

"Because you have taken over the position from the original Number Seven".

She could only stare at him silently, lips parting and her palms growing moist, feeling a creeping sensation of disbelief and doom, even though she didn't understand what that even meant. So...there had been seven kids before, all of them numbered, but now with her arrival, they was eight and...the kid who had been called 'Seven' was now called 'Eight?' Was that what he had just said? If so...that was horrible, awful, even. She didn't want to push anyone out, nor did she want to steal someone's name, even if it surely couldn't be their actual name, but even still! If that was the case, then she could understand why the other kid or even all of them might hate her already. She felt slightly queasy at the realisation that all of them might instantly hate her, and she hadn't even wanted any of this. How could she possibly face them?

"Sir," she began hastily, slightly breathlessly, feeling as if she might just be sick, "I don't want to cause any trouble..."

The car suddenly swayed gently to the side and she looked outside, slightly panicked to see that they were pulling up outside a very large townhouse in the middle of the street. It was a very handsome looking building, built from light coloured stone that made it stand out slightly from the rest of the buildings, looming several floors above the street. A pair of wrought iron gates stood outside the front steps, a design of umbrellas encased within a circle in the middle of them, while the frosted glass doors of the building had the same umbrellas on them. This guy sure had a thing for umbrellas; Willa was getting really sick of the sight of them.

"We've arrived," Hargreeve needlessly told her, while the driver got out of the front seat of the car and moved around to open the door.

Willa could only swallow down the queasy feeling, not sure if she was going to pass out, puke, or straight up try and run for it, her grip of the edge of her seat nearly painful on her knuckles. But the sharp glare that Hargreeves shot her through the open car door from the pavement was enough to kick start her into hastily following him out. She quickly tried wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt, the unfamiliar sensation of her necktie leaving her feeling chocked, but she had no other option but to trudge after the old man as he pushed the front gates open, marching up the short steps to the front door. He had barely reached them when the door was opened.

"Welcome home, Sir Regnald," a beautiful blonde woman greeted him warmly, smiling a lovely, sunny smile with perfectly straight white teeth, lips painted a soft pink. Her hair was perfectly curled around her head, clipped into an old fashioned style that looked better suited to the fifties, while the dress she wore looked like it came from the fifties. A large puffy skirt in a sky blue colour with white polka dots covering it, while a white blouse was tucked into the skirt, and small, modest white heels. She turned to Willa and gave her a lovely, greeting look, "Hello, dear," she said to her, her voice sweet and gentle, "Welcome to your new home".

Willa could only lick her lips nervously...her new home, huh? If she survived meeting the possibly bloodthirsty kids she was supposed to be living with, maybe.

"Grace," Hargreeves nodded to her, not even so much as sparing her a flicker of a smile. He instead moved passed her into the small outer entrance of the house, reaching up to remove his coat...the woman brightly moved to help him, still smiling way to cheerfully, "Are the children ready?"

"Ready and eagerly awaiting, sir," Grace replied, taking his coat from his shoulders, turning to drape it on a hook on the wall. When she turned back around, she was still smiling sweetly, looking to Willa, "The house has been bursting with excitement at the news of your arrival! Everyone is so eager to make a new friend".

Mixed messages, that's all Willa could really say.

Hargreeves looked mildly disapproving of this news, finally sparing the lady a cool look, "I do hope the excitement hasn't gotten in the way of their studies, Grace," he said tightly, "I left clear instructions".

"Not at all, Mr Hargreeves," Grace said instantly, still smiling, though it had dimmed very slightly, "The children have behaved themselves perfectly during your leave, sir".

He didn't look overly convinced by her words, but he made little further comment as he turned and crossed to where a large pair of double mahogany doors stood closed. He pushed them open and Grace flashed Willa a comforting, reassuring smile and reached out to gently take her shoulder...Willa wasn't overly keen on strangers, but right now Grace was the nicest person she had come across, so she allowed the lady to gently steer her forwards after Hargreeves, right through the threshold of the double doors. Willa's mouth just about hit the floor.

The room was huge, probably big enough to fit the Scott two bedroom cottage inside it easily. The floor was made from white marble tile and more mahogany, forming a large diamond pattern across the floor, while the walls were covered in wood panelling, a massive chandelier hung from the high ceiling directly above a large circular table, the only real piece of furniture in the room. A large wooden staircase stood at the end of the room and standing at the base of it, lined up like perfect little tin soldiers, were seven children. All of them were dressed the same as Willa, except that the boys wore dark grey shorts instead of skirts, while all of them even had similar hairstyles, the girls wore their hair long and tied back, while the boys all had their hair short and combed to one side.

Hargreeves walked up to the group, who all stood in a perfectly straight line, all of them looking expectant and curious as Willa slowly came into view, still being gently steered by Grace. Willa tried hard not to look to nervous, eyeing the kids, trying hard to fight back the urge to wring her hands together, instead forcing her arms to stay at her side. She let her eyes glide across her new school and housemates, relieved to find at least two girls amongst the seven. One girl, standing third from the right, had dark skin and thick, black curls that were neatly tied behind her back, dark eyes eyeing Willa closely, while the last girl, standing at the end of the line, almost reminded Willa of Meg. She had a slight shyness about her that the first girl lacked, her brown hair falling straight down her back and a heavy fringe hanging just above her eyebrows, a small, slightly shy smile curving her lips when she caught Willa's gaze.

She took an instant liking to that girl.

The boys were all so different, the first was the tallest out of the lot, and the only blonde, while a slightly shorter and more stocky built boy stood beside him, his skin a light olive and his hair black. The next boy had curly brown hair and a lopsided, easy going smile that instantly made Willa feel slightly more comfortable, not to mention the fact that he stood less rigidly then them all, shoulders slightly curved. The boy beside him had dark brown, straight hair and green eyes, eyes that seemed to be closely examining Willa, his lips curved into a slightly unsettling smirk that was neither friendly, nor cold, but simply, almost, challenging. And, lastly, the shortest boy of the lot, seeming Asian with thick black hair and a large, rounded face that was full of open curiosity and almost excitement.

"Children," Hargreeves said as Grace brought Willa to stand alongside him, just two steps down, but directly before the seven children, "Introductions are in order".

Willa might have expected a rush of voices and names, but instead what followed was just order. The first boy, the fair haired tall one, plastid a pleasant, if slightly forced smile to his lips.

"I'm Number One," he said to Willa, puffing out his chest slightly with pride, "Welcome to the Umbrella Academy".

"I'm...I'm...Number Two," the stockier boy, the next one up, introduced himself, stumbling slightly over his own words. He gave Willa a tight look, not smiling, not even close to friendly, "Welcome".

"Hi, I'm Number Three," the dark skinned girl said brightly, smiling widely and full of confidence, "Welcome to the Academy".

"Number Four," the curly haired boy raised his hand in a lazy little wave, indicating to himself, his lopsided, almost puppy-dog like smile warm and inviting...Hargreeves's eyes twitched slightly in annoyance, "Salutations and all that jazz..." he trailed off with a little jazz-hand gesture.

Number One and Two exchanged slightly exasperated glances, while the green eyed boy beside Four rolled his eyes, scoffing under his breath. Willa couldn't help smiling slightly in amusement, maybe they weren't all so rigid and stuffy as she might have expected, it was actually a relief to discover that they weren't. She had been a little panicked they might be mini clones of Hargreeves senor, but she was starting to get the impression that she was wrong. At least, with most of them.

"Enough with the dramatics, Number Four," Hargreeves barked slightly, and the boy straightened marginally and dropped his hand, still smiling, looking rather unruffled, "Next".

"Five," the green eyed boy said with a cool, assessing gaze levelled on Willa, lips again curving into a vaguely sarcastic smile, "Welcome".

If Number Four seemed kind of alright, Willa really couldn't decide how to feel about Number Five, but she didn't have much of a chance to consider it before the Asian boy was taking his turn.

"Number Six," he smiled at her brightly, making his face light up, curiosity shining in his dark brown eye, "Is it true that you've got a mum? And that you go to a normal school? And that you..."

Willa blinked briefly, taken aback by the sudden burst of questions being thrown at her, but rather like it had been a relief to see the curly haired kid doing something so casual as giving her jazz-hands, seeing someone actually express interest in her was like a breath of fresh air. It made her smile, relaxing even more, lips parting to eagerly respond, because of course she was more than happy to latch on to any chance she had to make friends. She had been terrified that these kids were going to hate her on sight, but this she could work with.

"Enough, Number Six," Hargreeves cut in before Willa could speak, fixing a deeply disapproving glare on the boy, who instantly froze and almost chocked on air, eyes immediately dropping to the polished toes of his lace-up shoes, "Enquires into Number Seven's past are..."

"My Ma's name is May," Willa said quickly, looking directly and slightly pointedly at Number Six, refusing to so much as glance at Hargreeves. She had kept her mouth shut for over ten hours that they had been in the air, she was tired and homesick and desperate for an ounce of familiarity in this completely alien world, she didn't care if she ended up getting in trouble, she was over being mousy. She smiled slightly at the boy, sensing all eyes intently staring at her, some with disbelief, some with shock, others annoyance...three guesses who that was, "And yeah, I go to primary school with loads of kids, but I don't know if I'd call them normal," she pulled a slight face, "I mean, can you really call Danny Benson normal after he ate a lady beetle? Bet or not, you've gotta be pretty desperate".

Number Six grinned widely and laughed, while Number Five's lips curved very slightly, before he seemed to catch himself. Number Three grimaced in disgust and Number Two's lips twitched, though barely, expression still oddly tense, while Number One looked rather conflicted, eyes darting nervously to Hagreeves. The last girl at the end of the line smiled in amusement, if a little shyly.

"Cool accent," Number Four commented with a slightly wide eyed, curious expression written across his clear, smooth face, "You sound like you're singing!"

Willa felt warmth in her cheeks and she shifted slightly on the spot, suddenly acutely aware of just how different she sounded compared to their very American sounding kids before her. She was used to only hearing her own accent reflected back at her, TV not counting, of course, so suddenly hearing people speak with such a vastly different accent from her own...it made a wave of homesickness wash over her like a bucket of cold water, and she felt slightly sickly. But she didn't want to seem like she was annoyed by the comment, smiling slightly awkwardly.

"Introduction are concluded, I think," Hargreeves said stiffly, tone stern and carrying a disapproving edge...the impact on the kids was curious, all of them instantly spared him a wary look and straightened, smiles vanishing instantly. He then fixed Willa with a sharp glare, making her shuffle her feet slightly uneasily, "Curfew is at eight thirty, no exceptions. Grace will show you to your room, Number Seven," he finally glanced back around to the other kids, "Children".

"Goodnight, Father," they all chorused, some slightly more dully than others, while some instantly perked up and flashed him a bright, hopeful smile, Number One being one of them.

Willa stayed silent, watching him and the kids, feeling more like she was on an alien planet then she ever had before in her entire life. It was only when Hargreeves Senor had turned and stalked off out of the room, did the air change. Again, it was fascinating to watch; all of the kids seemed to instantly relax and immediately start to step out of the stiff formation they had formed. Number Three was the first to make a beeline for Willa, smiling at her brightly, full of confidence and the same sort of air that Willa recognised in the girls who teased her and Meg back home. She tried hard not to let it sour her first impression on the girl, knowing that she needed to try and make friends more than ever, but Willa found it easier said than done.

"You can call me Allison," the girl told her, flipping her curls over her shoulder, coming to stand directly before Willa, cocking her hip, "Dad's pretty much the only one who calls us by our numbers".

That was a big relief to hear, "I'm Willa," Willa smiled at her, glancing curiously at the other kids, who had all drifted closer, peering at her...she almost felt like she was in a fishbowl, but at least they seemed interested and not bloodthirsty, "Or Will, whatever. So, you all have proper names, then?"

"Mostly," the brunet girl that, Willa realised hadn't been introduced yet, said with a lingering glance towards Number Five.

Five shrugged, hands shoved carelessly into the pockets of his shorts, "If Dad couldn't be bothered naming us himself, why should I bother going by any other name?" he said with a slight eye roll, seemingly having had this discussion before and bored with it. He seemed to notice Willa's curious gaze and gave her a slightly sarcastic curl to his lips, "Who wants a boring name like Peter or Henry or Will..."

"Ignore him," Allison cut in loudly, rolling her eyes with an exasperated scoff, "He's a jerk".

"Standing right here, you know".

"Good! It's true".

"Don't worry about it," Willa smiled, looking directly at Five, raising her eyebrows at him, "You're right, anyway, Will is kind of a boring name, but hey, at least I can always count on finding it on one of those personalised cups," she shrugged, perfectly unruffled, even though her heart was pounding in her chest.

She felt as if she was being tested right now, the thing was, she had no idea if she was measuring up or not. Five looked very vaguely taken aback, though it was only a tiny ripple over his features, before he shrugged and lightly rocked on his heels.

"A personalised cup?" he raised his own eyebrows mockingly at her, scoffing, "You're right, that does make having a boring name worth it".

"What are you even still doing here?" Allison gave him a flat glare, "Shouldn't you be buried in a book somewhere, plotting?"

He spared her a sarcastic grin, "Just making sure our newest inmate feels welcome in this hellhole we call home, sweet home," he said innocently, sparing Willa a glance, "Dad's gonna eat you alive tomorrow. Have fun with that".

And with one last near terrifying smirk, he gave a little lunge and, suddenly, disappeared in a bright flash of blue light, only to reappear almost instantly again at the top f the stairs, climbing them with a swagger in his steps. Willa jumped and gasped, eyes widening in disbelief, just barley swallowing a small squeal of shock as she whirled around to watch the heels of his shoes disappear around the edge of the stairs, gone from view, just like that.

"I hate it when he does that," Number Four moaned slightly, pouting his lower lip out slightly.

"Show off," Number Two scowled, his stutter seemingly overcome by his annoyance, arms crossed over his chest.

"You get used to that," the brunet girl said softly to Willa, giving her a shy smile, "I'm Vanya. Don't mind Five, he's all bite, I promise".

"After the past twelve hours, one little boy trying to get a rise out of me is the least of my concerns, honestly," Willa told her with a small, tired smile.

Her tiredness must have shown more than Willa might have liked, because the small, sympathetic look that Vanya gave her then felt oddly comforting. In comparison to Allison, Vanya felt like the closest thing to Meg that she had now, a touch of familiarity in this strange new world and place. A gentle, almost tender hand fell upon her shoulder, then, and Willa jumped very slightly, looking up sharply to see Grace's lovely, sweet smile bearing down on her.

"You must be tired, dear," she said to her gently, pretty blue eyes full of softness and affection, even though she had literally only just met Willa, "You have had a very long journey".

"I am kind of tired..." she admitted hesitantly, glancing slightly at the other kids, who had all lingered, seemingly curious, even if one or two of them seemed to be still eyeing her warily, but it was mainly only Number One and Two, the rest seemed welcoming enough, and she already thought she was going to make easy friends with Vanya and probably Number Four.

"I'm sure you are, Willa," Grace nodded. There was something slightly off with this lady, Willa couldn't help thinking, but right now she couldn't pinpoint it, too tired, to homesick, to ready to just escape. The hand on her shoulder squeezed her reassuringly, "Besides..." she spared the other kids an indulgent smile, "It's five minutes 'till curfew, children".

That got them to move.

"Night, Mum," they all said, jolting into action.

Willa glanced curiously at Grace...she was there mum? She had kind of figured that they had been raised by nannies or something, like most rich kids seemed to be in movies, she hadn't expected for them to have a mum. Wait...did that mean that Hargreaves was married? No way, Grace seemed way to nice and sweet for him, and the idea of that man having a wife was just mind-blowing for her. Still, she watched as some of the kids spared Grace bright, warm smiles, while some approached her to kiss her cheek, Number Two and Six, before they all turned and began hurrying up the stairs.

"Come with me, sweetie," Grace urged Willa with an almost loving tone, one that reminded her of Ma, so much so that Willa almost burst into tears, "Let's have a quick tour".

Willa didn't say anything; she couldn't as she found herself being steered, once again, from the entrance hall and through a doorway on the side of the staircase, which opened up into a large dining room. It was decorated in the same style as the foyer, wood panelled walls and large windows that were draped with thick, heavy curtains. The polished wood table was designed to sit ten people. Willa took it in, eyes starting to blur together from tiredness, listening as Grace cheerfully told her that breakfast was at eight o'clock sharp, that they were all expected to be present and dressed in their uniforms, but Grace had reassured her that she was sure the other children would help her.

The rest of the tour was cut short, Grace had again, reassured her that the other kids would show her where to go, what to do, guiding Willa upstairs to the upper levels of the house. The next floor was just as rich and opulent as the first, rich fabrics and carpets, wood panelling and oil paintings, barely a hint of the fact that a bunch of kids lived in the place. Grace had told her that lessons were conducted on this floor. It wasn't until they reached the next level that things took a shift in decor. The ceiling was lower up here, but everything was still bigger than anything Willa was used to seeing in a house, not that one could call it much of a house. It felt almost clinical, the floor covered in small Victorian-style tiles, while the walls were chipped and marked, looking more how one might expect a house with a bunch of super powered kids to look. There were multiple doors leading off the long hallway, and as they passed them Willa caught glimpses of her new housemates.

Number Four was twirling around his bedroom, visible through the crack of his door, a pair of headphones over his curly head as he pranced about the place, eyes closed and just enjoying the music, his bedroom cluttered with clothing and toys strewn about the floor and an unmade bed. The next door was shut firmly and Willa glanced at it curiously as they passed by, only for the next room to be inhabited by Number Six. The boy looked up at the movement of them in the doorway and smiled, waving at them, before going back to the book he was reading, perched on his bed, already dressed in a pair of light grey pyjamas.

"This will be your room, Willa," Grace smiled warmly at the girl, coming to a stop to a bedroom across the hall from Six's room. She reached out and turned the doorknob, pushing it open to reveal a moderately large bedroom.

Willa edged into the room, peering around it with a growing sense of despair deep in her heart. It was nothing like her bedroom at home, not in the slightest bit personal. The walls were a murky, dirty cream colour, while a pair of matching old curtains hung over the large window that looked out onto a courtyard below, a radiator heater below it. The floor was wooden floorboards that Willa just knew that they would be freezing in winter, already dreading it. A single bed sat against the wall on the right side of the wall, clean, plain sheets covering it, the frame a feminine white iron one, while a large white wardrobe sat beside the door and a dresser with a mirror that probably acted as a desk, too, was pushed against the wall next to the window. There was still enough space to not feel cramped and if Willa ever decided to have her own disco like Four, she could probably get away with it without hurting herself. But it was all very stark and clinical.

"What's your favourite colour, honey?" Grace asked her suddenly, giving her another lovely smile.

"Yellow," Willa replied without thinking, thinking about the yellow, floral wallpaper of her bedroom back home.

"We will have to decorate, make it yours, sweetie. How does that sound?"

She wanted to smile, but she just couldn't, "Great," she said, but it came out soft, almost blank, "Sounds...great".

Grace eyed her, then, her smooth, perfect brow creasing with concern as she peered at her closely. She reached out, again, and took her by her shoulder, squeezing it consolingly, eyes gentle, soft.

"It will feel like home before you know it, Willa," she told her, "You're very much welcome here, and if you need anything at all, you can always come to me".

"Thanks," she swallowed down the sudden, odd urge to cry that had bubbled up inside her throat, looking into Grace's face. For one second, she had feared she might insistent on being called 'Mum,' like the other kids did, but she didn't and Willa was grateful. She didn't think she could handle it if she had.

A loud bell rang out, then, and Willa flinched, looking up in alarm. Grace merely squeezed her hand.

"That's curfew," she said lightly, squeezing her arm again, peering at her still with open concern, "Do you want some cookies and warm milk?" she tried to give her a bright smile.

Willa just wanted, no, needed to be left alone now, even though being alone felt like the worst thing in the world right now. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and shook her head.

"No, thank you".

Grace's smile dimmed very slightly, "What beautiful manners," she commented, oddly affectionately again, "Goodnight, Willa".

Willa wasn't sure if she said 'Night' back, all she knew was that one second Grace was with her and the next she had blinked, and she was alone, the bedroom door closed, left standing in the middle of her new bedroom, so alien and wrong, very alone and three thousand, two hundred and ninety-seven miles away from Ma.

It might as well have been the moon.

Willa meets the other kids! I seriously love writing the kids interactions with one another, they're all so fun and different to toy with, even now, but as adults it's even better. I feel like this chapter gives a tiny hint as to what sort of person she will become :)

Tell me what you thought, please review/comment :)