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Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2019.

A tattered, stereotypical magazine floated down onto the ground. He recognised the font and the colours as one of those pop-culture magazines, making up facts and figures to impress their readers and persuade them to buy whatever hot item they sponsored in that issue.

There was something different about this magazine after closer inspection. An umbrella, the same umbrella forced into their young skin by their adoptive father.

He flipped through the pages, looking for the article.

---

A beginner’s guide to the Umbrella Academy! The members of the Umbrella Academy have a pretty whacky backstory, filled with love, death, and absences. We can try to break it down for you, but even this reporter gets confused sometimes! As always, thank you for reading Vector Magazine, your go-to scoop for the weird and wonderful figures of today.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves adopted a total of 8 children in his lifetime, all but one possessing extraordinary powers.

Number 1
Number 1, known as Luther, possesses super strength. He is still an active member of the Umbrella Academy, although now resides on the MOON! Luther has been collecting important scientific evidence of moon particles for the last 3 years to help Sir Hargreeves make astronomical (get it?) advancements in gravity. We believe Luther may have been adopted from Sweden!

Number 2
Number 2, known as Diego, possesses what we believe to be trajectory manipulation, reserved for knives. Diego left the Academy at age 17, where he tried to make a career out of the police force before falling victim to his own vigilantism. Now, Diego’s whereabouts are largely unknown, however, if there’s ever any live news of a crime, our favourite spandex-clad, knife-wielding vigilante will be there. We believe Diego may have been adopted from Mexico!

Number 3
Number 3, known as Allison, can manipulate any person into doing whatever she wants through vocalism. All she has to do is simply say “I heard a rumour”, and you’re putty in her hands! Allison left the academy around age 18 after landing her first breakout role in Spielberg’s Paws as Brooke Landgrab. Nowadays, Allison is a household name and a Red Carpet frequent. She has a daughter with her ex-husband, Patrick Contra. Although the reason for the recent divorce is unknown, this journalist suspects not everything was glitz and glam at home. We believe Allison may have been adopted right here, in the US of A!

Number 4
Number 4, known as Klaus, can commune with the dead. Klaus left the academy formally at 18, however was kicked out multiple times in his late teens. Klaus’s whereabouts can be linked to any rave or rehabilitation centre. If you or someone you love is struggling with substance abuse, please reach out. We at Vector Magazine care greatly about your health and well-being. We believe that Klaus may have been adopted from USA, just like Allison!

Number 5
Number 5, simply called that, has the ability to travel through space in what has been called “blinks”. Number 5 went missing on the 11th of November 2002. We hold him in our hearts. His disappearance has been a mystery for all fans of the Umbrella Academy; however, we have been assured by Sir Hargreeves himself that Number 5 is not dead. Sir Hargreeves refused to comment further on the matter. We believe Number 5 may have been adopted from Ireland.

Number 6
Number 6, known as Ben, has elusive powers we are unsure how to describe. In an interview with Allison Hargreeves, she stated that Ben’s powers were “a portal to another dimension in his abdomen”, and if that isn’t Lovecraftian horror, we don’t know what is! Ben died on the 14th of October, 2006. We hold him in our hearts. The death of Ben caused the unravelling of the Umbrella Academy, with Diego and Viktor shortly leaving after and Klaus’s first public overdose. We believe Ben may have been adopted from South Korea.

Number 7
Number 7, known as Viktor, possesses no special abilities or powers. Viktor was, in fact, hidden from the public until Number 8 was announced, and we had to question where Number 7 was. Viktor wrote the New York best seller Extra-Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven, a recount of his time living in his sibling’s shadows and published in 2014. Nowadays, Viktor is the second chair violinist for the Icarus Orchestra. We believe Viktor may have been adopted from Russia!

Number 8
Number 8, known as Didi, possesses the ability to shapeshift. Didi was one of the last to leave the Academy at age 19, and was definitely the last to join, donning the red-piped, navy blue blazer at age 14. Didi was in the foster care system for a few months before being adopted by Sir Hargreeves, suspected to have been taken into the family to mask the disappearance of Five. Now, Didi uses her influence as an Umbrella Academy member, and her money as a Hargreeves, to fund multiple homeless shelters, soup kitchens, and charity shops. Her newest charity shop, Finders or Keepers, is located just 20 minutes from the heart of Indianapolis. We know Didi spent the first 14 years of her life in Australia, however, her life before the Umbrella Academy is a bit of a mystery!

As always, we at Vector Magazine are incredibly grateful for all the work that Sir Reginald Hargreeves and his brilliant children do for us.

---

He squinted behind his goggles, his thin mouth forming a frown.

“He fucking replaced me.”

He didn’t dare scream, his throat already so dry and his water supply low. His words echoed around his own head, the first sounds he’d heard in days that was not wind blowing harshly, or falling foundations.

“He fucking replaced me?”

Great.

He fell to his knees, tears threatening to spill. He grasped the magazine tightly, creases forming in his fist. If he was honest, it wasn’t the fact he’d been replaced that hurt him the most. It was more so life went on without him. It’d been weeks for him, years for everyone else.

Five Hargreeves was stuck in an apocalypse, with no way to get out. And the world moved on around him.

Chapter Text

Brisbane, 2002.

Didi Albert had an unpredictable life. Didi was born on the 1st of October, 1989 – a normal date. Didi was short for Dolores – a normal name. Didi had a few friends around her age and enjoyed arts and crafts – a normal hobby. Didi loved to play games and had an intense competitive streak – a normal trait. Didi first exhibited powers at the age of 4, when she made eye contact with her very tall local GP, shapeshifted into him, and proceeded to vomit everywhere from the gravitational difference – a not-so-normal event.

After the shapeshifting incident, her parents didn’t really know what to do. They were kind people, young and in love, but not entirely financially ready to take care of a child. Not their fault – they weren’t planning for a child. They had just began their careers, Shannon specialising in marine biology, and Richard becoming a professor of engineering at the local university. But like 42 other women across the world, Shannon Albert had given birth despite not being pregnant at the start of the day. Shannon and Richard Albert loved Didi as much as they possibly could, but Didi transforming into any figure she saw was difficult – not to mention expensive, with her clothes ripping every time.

Over the years, her parents enrolled her in various martial arts programs, hoping that she could channel her energy into fighting not shifting, or find ways to remain calm and collected. When Didi expressed an interest in dance, they found a cheap local school to further find coping mechanisms. It worked briefly, with Didi only accidentally transforming if she had a conversation with a new person. If she’d met a person before or only saw them, Didi did not transform. A blessing in her parents’ eyes. Didi became aware of strangers and did not talk to them for fear of shifting. Before going to any new class, or group, party, or whatever – her parents requested photos of all members. Didi would study their faces so that when she met them, she did not shift. It was a system that worked, and all was ok. Didi would never actively try to shapeshift.

She never really hid her powers either. It was hard to miss the once normal seven-year-old morphing into an old grandma in the cafe. Didi told some of her friends about it. Her grandparents knew before they passed away. No one treated her any differently, although her friends were constantly asking her to transform into their crushes. Didi refused, mainly because they were very ugly, but also because a sense of unease would settle in the bottom of her stomach. These people didn't know she was shifitng into them, it felt like an invasion of privacy to her.

When Didi was 11, her parents sat her down and explained the circumstances of her birth. Shannon and Richard were bright leaders in their field, and they wanted Didi to be as educated in topics as possible, just like them. They told Didi that Shannon was not pregnant previously, but that did not change how much they loved her. They then explained that a strange man had offered them a large sum of money in exchange for her when she’d been born. Richard had recognised him as Reginald Hargreeves, a wealthy adventurer and businessman.

“Darling Dolores, we love you so much,” Shannon would say. “We love you to the moon and back.”

“Bug-a-lugs, we’re so proud of you.” Richard would say.

Didi thought she was the only person in the world with special abilities. So did Shannon and Richard. That is until they learnt about the other 42 women. And the famous 6 children. And the man himself, Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

Didi was now 13. It was a Thursday night – Richard drove Didi home from Karate and Shannon was cleaning off from work. They ate dinner quietly in the lounge room, the table not used as their bodies were exhausted and longed for the couch, watching whatever news was on.

“And now for some international news,” the bubbly reporter announced. “A bank robbery in Indianapolis, Indiana was stopped by 6 young teens, acting like a superhero group.”

The screen showed a group of kids wearing domino masks and school blazers, smiling and waving to the cameras and crowd. The reporter continued;

“The superhero group is apparently called the Umbrella Academy and was founded by Sir Reginald Hargreeves, the eccentric billionaire. Here’s what he had to say.”

The cameras cut to an older man with a twirling beard and a monocle. Shannon gasped, and Richard pointed to the screen.

“That’s him, Didi – that’s the man that tried to adopt you.”

The man, Reginald, began to speak.

“Over 13 years ago, on the 1st of October, 1989, 43 children were born with extraordinary powers,” Reginald said on screen.

“43?” Shannon interrupted.

“Shh!” Didi exclaimed, eager to hear what Reginald had to say.

“I have adopted 6 of them, trained them, and shaped them into the heroes you see before you. I will now be answering questions.” Reginald said, his voice simple but powerful.

The reporters around him threw their hands up, questions shouted over each other.

“What are their names?” One said.

“What do you mean by powers?” Said another.

“What powers do they have?”

“What happened to the other 37 children?”

The kids behind Reginald were divided – half were still waving, the girl in particular looking gleeful, and the others looking overwhelmed, glancing at each other to see what was going on. Two boys on the end kept whispering to each other, one very animated with his hands and pointing, as if planning an escape route.

“They are numbered, 1-6, in the order you see them in. An official report will be released on Monday about their abilities. I did not adopt the other 37 children. Thank you.” And with that, Reginald left with the children. The girl, Number 3, blew a kiss out to the audience, the boy in front of her chuckling and pretending to gag, Number 4.

“And that’s all for the 7:00 pm news. We’ll have more on the Umbrella Academy story as it unfolds. As always, I’m Susannah Carr. This has been Seven News, goodnight.” The reporter finished.

Didi’s dinner remained unfinished, now cold. She stared at the ads playing on the TV, thinking back to the report. There were others like her. They were saving the world. She was watching a promo video for a new season of Big Brother. 

“Didi, darling?” Shannon questioned. “Are you ok, sweetheart?”

“I think she just needs a minute, love,” Richard said. “Why don’t we go clean up now, give her some space?”.

Didi barely registered what they were saying. She wasn’t sure how she was meant to feel. Jealous? They were on the news, they saved people with their powers – whatever they were. All Didi managed to do was prank her parents by shapeshifting into them, the only people she allowed herself to transform into. There were people her age, doing good things. They were heroes.

From that day on, Didi decided to use her powers more, train herself in them, use them for good.

She practised shifting, from celebrities to neighbours, but could only shift into people she had seen in person. She shifted into her teacher, her best friend, and the cute checkout person at their local supermarket. She found not only her appearance would change, but also her voice. She could sound just like whoever she shifted into. She tried to shift into animals, but nothing – it had to be humanoid shape. She tried to shift into a statue at the park close by, but nothing – it had to be biological.

Didi started to shift in the schoolyard, transforming into teachers to scare bullies, or to quietly make fun of them with her friends. She shifted into the random adults she’d seen to get into bars, just to see what they were like. She shifted into her friend’s older brother to get into an R+ movie. She shifted into her classmates to get out of trouble.

Didi became careless with her transformations. People that didn’t know started to realise. People that weren’t meant to know started to figure it out.

And out of all the things Sir Reginald Hargreeves had done, this was one of the worst.

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2002.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, on all accounts, was a terrible father – even to those who weren’t in his care yet.

He had kept tabs on all the 36 children he had not adopted, the ones possessing supernatural abilities. He was unable to find 1 of them, they had disappeared when they were 4 years old. A few were dead. Some were more complex than others, some more powerful. Some were mundane, like the hallucinogen acid child and the superstrength child, like the one he already had. There was the box born, a Midas figure, light absorber. Some would be useful in a battle, a battle he prayed would never come to light, and some would be useful in covert missions. He had kept tabs on all of them.

As he looked upon all his children, for what would be the last time, he felt discouraged. There was so much potential in them, and yet they refused to utilise it. They ate their lunch in silence, listening to one of Reginald’s old records. Interrupted by an arrogant chime and knife, the Academy was never the same again. The young boy, Five, disappeared.

Reginald did not allow the children to grieve the loss of their brother. He did not see a need to. Instead, he hung the reminder above the fireplace, oil painting to threaten the children. Although Five’s powers were fantastic and he had a brilliant mind, his lack of discipline and his large ego determined that Five disappearing was no great loss. However, Reginald still needed 7 children should that battle ever come. More, ideally, in case something was to happen to the children, but 7 would suffice.

So, he went to his tabs on the other 36 children. He already had fighters, as weak as some of them were, so he desired a power that fit well with covert missions. Perhaps that hallucinogen child was more useful than he originally gave credit for.

His eyes fell on his most recently updated folder. A girl in Australia was demonstrating shape-shifting abilities. She would do just fine.

It took a few days to get the quantities for the pill right. You can’t just kill a child’s immediate family and expect them to be fine. But if they’re on a pill that both suppresses memories of them and releases endorphins, then the child will be fine. They can join the other children Reginald has on medication.

It was a quick take-out. Reginald didn’t want to get his hands dirty, for fear if something went wrong the child would never want to be a part of the academy, so he hired someone to do it instead. It was a car crash, something that couldn’t be linked to the gun. The coroner herself said it was an accident, unpreventable.

The girl was in foster care for a while. She was inconsolable, destroyed by the loss of her family. Reginald waited a few months before contacting the service about adopting her, offering high prices that went even higher if they introduced her to the medication that “would help her become a better fighter in order to join the Umbrella Academy”.

The service reported strange nightmares from the girl. The girl refused to disclose what they were about.

Reginald knows there are no secrets kept in the academy from him. He’ll find out, sooner or later. He’ll make sure of it.

He sat down with all the children during breakfast, a few days after the papers for adoption had been signed. Some children were still upset by the loss of their brother. They were emotionally weak. Number 7 in particular had not uttered a word in months.

Reginald spoke plainly, alerting the children it was not up for discussion. He was telling them as a courtesy that another child was joining the academy. Numbers 1, 2 and 3 were the first to speak, all at once. Number 1 and 3 had questions, Number 2 was against it. Number 4 turned to Number 6, whispering loudly, and Number 7 started to cry. Reginald stood up. The children fell silent.

“Must I remind you,” He commanded their attention. “About what happens when you don’t listen to me?”

Reginald didn’t need to point. He didn’t need to say anything more. All heads swivelled to the warning above the fireplace, holding Five’s gaze in fear. Reginald sat back down.

“Sir, when is she coming?” Number 1 asked.

“Matter of weeks, Number 1.”

“What are her abilities?” Piped up Number 3.

“She can shapeshift into any person she’s seen before.”

“That isn’t a very powerful ability.” Number 2 exclaimed.

“You throw knives, Diego.” Number 4 counted.

“And Viktor doesn’t even have powers – they’re still a part of the academy.” Number 3 brought up.

Number 7 nodded sadly, slowly chewing his food as if it pained him.

“I’m just saying, how can she help us in a battle? Turn into an old lady?” Number 2 said sarcastically.

“How can Klaus?” Number 6 retorted.

“I’ll ask the ghosts really nicely.” Number 4 responded.

“To what?”

“To turn into an old lady.”

“Oh, real funny.” Number 2 replied. 

"Hey, maybe this newbie can help get that stick out of your ass.” Calmly said Number 4.

“I’ll shove it down your throat.”

“Ew... That's been in your ass...”

“Diego, that’s gross.” Number 3 exclaimed.

“Enough, children. Continue this discussion in your half hour of free time.” Reginald drew their attention back.

They continued to eat in silence.

Reginald had Grace make sure Number 8’s room was ready. He had Pogo make sure there was enough medication. Everything was ready for the arrival of Number 8. Everything but Number 8.

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2019.

Didi felt… warm. She felt trapped in her own body, rocks digging into every part of her body. She felt so, so warm. Her body was on fire. Her body was literally on fire. Didi tried to move, but to her shock, she was paralyzed, immovable as she continued to burn.

“Help! Fuck, help!” Didi cried, but her lips didn’t move. Did she even make a sound? All she could do was stare up at the ashen sky above her. She was on fire, only able to look at the smoke surrounding her and smell her burning self. Didi had never smelt flesh burning before, but it didn’t seem quite right.

She heard rubble move behind her, and loud footsteps with clinking metal.

“Hello?” a voice called out.

“Hello! I’m here!” Didi responded, voice wavering in fear. Her mouth still wasn’t moving, how could the other figure of heard her?

“Shit, I’m coming!” More rubble shifts around her. She’s moved. She can feel hands around her waist, grappling her arm, pulling her out of the debris Didi didn’t even realise she was trapped under.

As she’s lifted, Didi can now see the world around her. Fallen buildings, crumbling houses, destroyed civilization. Small fires burn everywhere, large rocks decorating the ground. It’s terrifying. And Didi still can’t move.

“It’s ok. You’re ok.” The figure says, holding her in their arms.

“I can’t move.” Didi replies.

“Are you meant to?”

Huh. Was she?

“Maybe this is a dream.” She mutters sadly.

“Nightmare. But, no, this is real”.

The figure spins Didi to face them. She can’t see much past the goggles, mask, and wide-brimmed hat that take up most of their face, but their green eyes showed great concern.

“Can I take you to get cleaned up?” They ask, something akin to hope in their voice.

“Am I dirty?”

“I think your arm has melted off.”

“My arm?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I wasn’t quick enough to save you.” The figure looks around sadly at the burning world around them.

“I didn’t know anyone was out here. Can I please take you to get cleaned up?” The figure asks again.

Didi doesn’t see much of a choice. She can’t move any of her body, can’t feel anything below her waist. She tries to nod before she remembers she can’t.

“Yes, yes please.” The figure gently places her in a wheelbarrow before setting off.

The journey the figure takes her on is harrowing. The figure is silent for the most part, having explained that the atmosphere dries their throat out and they’d like to get some water first before talking.

That would normally be fine with Didi if the scenery around her wasn’t so… apocalyptic. She wonders briefly if this dream is something she should talk about with someone, a psychologist maybe. What could a dream like this even mean? Why is she paralysed?

Before she can spiral anymore, the figure stops in front of a semi-standing building, with the first floor upright at least.

“Home sweet home.” the figure mutters before going inside, carefully navigating the wheelbarrow over fallen structures.

Once inside, the figure shuts the door, deadbolts it, and removes all their headwear. To Didi’s surprise, it’s just a boy, one probably around her age. His sharp features are illuminated by the torches around him, showcasing the various nicks and cuts on his face. He shakes his head, violently throwing his head to the side as if something was stuck in his ear. He opens his mouth as wide as he can, stretching out his jaw before rolling the rest of his body up and down, shaking out his legs and arms.

He grabs a canteen of water off a broken table and eagerly drinks from it. He looks almost grotesque in his manners as if he was a starving dog one minute away from dying. He wipes away the water that dribbles onto his chin, taking a minute to control his breathing.

He turns to Didi, eyes still full of that same concern. “Would you like to sit on a chair? Would that be more comfortable?” He asked.

Didi didn’t really know how to respond. She didn’t care either way but didn’t want to trouble the boy or reject his offerings. She knew nothing about him, but something was in the back of her mind telling her he was familiar.

“If it’s no trouble.” She replies. He hoists her up gently, delicately placing her on a nearby chair. The chair was wobbly, the once plush bottom torn, but it was meant to be better than a wheelbarrow.

“Thank you,” She says. “What’s going on here?”

“The apocalypse.”

Her brain stops for a minute. What a fucked-up dream to have.

“Oh.” Was all Didi could say.

“What’s your name? Do you remember?” The boy asked.

Why would she not remember her name? Was there a reason she wasn’t supposed to? Who was she? Didi panicked and couldn’t help what slipped out. He didn’t need to know her full government name, no one even called her that.

“Dolores,” She blurts. “My name is Dolores.”

“Lovely name. It’s nice to meet you, Dolores.”

He holds her hand and awkwardly moves it up and down as if he was shaking it. “My name is Five.”

“That’s not a name, that’s a number.”

“I didn’t want a name.”

“Did your parents not give you one?” Didi questioned.

“Well, Dolores, I didn’t really have any parents. My adoptive father gave me a number, and by the time he invented my adoptive mother I didn’t want a name.”

“Invented…?”

Oh.

Oh.

“Five, are you… one of those, uh…. What are they called? Oh, the uhm… Umbrella! Yes, Umbrella Ac-”

“Umbrella Academy kids, yes. Not in this decade, though.”

What a weird, weird dream. Decades? Apocalypse? Talking to one of the Umbrella Academy children? She’ll wake up soon. It was odd, though. Last she heard on the news the Umbrella Academy children had saved some people from a home invasion. They’d all been accounted for on the news, why was Five here?

“How did you get to an apocalypse?” Didi asked, ignoring the decade comment. That was a little too much to unpack in a dream.

Five turns away and moves towards a bookcase, filled with literature that holds up surprisingly well compared to the outside. He chooses a greyish book, Didi can make out a young man on the front, with short brown hair and a solemn expression.

“Do you know the story of Icarus, Dolores?”

She thought for a minute. It sounded familiar.

“Is that the one with the son and the sun?”

“Two sons?”

“No, sorry, the son who flies too close to the sun. Golden wings?”

He nods sadly.

“The wings were made of leather and beeswax. Icarus was so happy to taste freedom after imprisonment that he ignored his father’s warning, flew too close to the sun that the beeswax melted, and fell to his death.”

“Is that what happened to you, Five?”

“I ignored my father's warning. I tasted freedom.”

Five holds his head in his hands, the book dropped, his shoulders shaking. Didi wants to reach out, to offer him a comforting hand, but she can’t.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters out weakly.

“I thought I was ready. I was… I was not ready,” Five choked out. “I wasn’t ready and now I’m stuck in 2019!”

Wooooah. It’s… it’s 2003. Should she tell Five it’s 2003?

He looks at her. His green eyes were bloodshot, tears cleaning his ash-covered face.

“I’ve been alone for months, Dolores. Months. It-it’s probably 2020 by now. And I can’t even jump through space. I can’t jump from one end of this fucking library to another. Please, Dolores.”

He shuffles over to her, crawling on his knees. He rests his head against her stomach, a hollow, empty sound. Why did she sound like that?

“Please, don’t leave me. I don’t know how long I’ll be stuck here. Please, please.” He pleaded to her.

“I won’t,” Didi promised. “I won’t leave you here by yourself.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, Five.”

He wipes the tears from his eyes, clearing his throat, and trying to regain composure.

“Thank you. Well, it’s, uh, it’s been a long day for me, and you need to rest. My bed is over here,” Five points to a dim corner of the library. “I can give you some spare blankets and you can sleep nearby. Can I pick you up?”

“Why do I need to be picked up?” Didi asked.

“You can’t walk.”

“Five, what am I?”

He narrows his eyes slightly, not in anger or annoyance, but confusion and curiosity.

“What do you think you are?” Five questions.

“I don’t think I’m me.”

“What are you meant to be?”

Human, like you.

“Please, if I stay with you, you have to be honest with me.”

“You’re a mannequin, Dolores.”

Oh! Oh.

Oh, no.

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2003.

Didi stared up at the expanding mansion in front of her. It towered tall, dark windows drawn shut with weathered brick surroundings. The steps loomed high towards the double door, a sickeningly gorgeous invite to the rest of her life.

What little possessions she had were unpacked by the man who drove her from the airport, a sombre expression on his face. He laid down the last bag on the stoney pavement, taking care not to scratch or ruin the bag – or maybe the ground. He gave Didi a once over, noting the shaking fingers, the dark bags under her frantic eyes, and the overbrushed hair pulled into a tight, headache-inducing ponytail.

“Good luck, Miss.” He has an accent, maybe British.

“Can you tell me anything about him? Or the rest of the family?”

He waits.

“Good luck, Miss.”

He gets in the car and drives away, leaving Didi all alone. She shoulders her bag, grabs her suitcase, and clutches her pillow tight to her chest as if it would do anything to control the erratic beating of her heart. Her fingers felt tingly, her throat held tight, her feet rock solid, too heavy to move.

One step.

They were children, like her.

One step.

She was lucky to have a family again.

One step.

Why can’t she remember her own family?

One step.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves was a good man.

One step.

The others will be good friends.

Rapid knocks.

What about Five?

Waiting.

Would he be there?

Inhale.

How could she explain to him that she dreamt him up?

Exhale.

The door glides open, revealing a young woman with blonde hair done up prettily with swoops and curls. Didi’s eyes are drawn to the perfect hem of her skirt, sitting below the woman’s knee, and subconsciously fiddles with her own. A pang of jealousy runs through Didi, looking at the perfection in front of her. It isn’t until Didi realises she can’t shift into the woman that something isn’t right.

“Hi there!” She’s chipper, her voice sweet like honey. “You must be Dolores. Please, come in.”

She moves to the side, out of the doorway, graceful and demure. Didi catches something metallic on the woman’s arm, not a bracelet but a rectangular box on her forearm. Perhaps she’s not human, a perfect robot made by Sir Hargreeves. She recalls Five saying his father invented his mother. 

Didi takes in the massive foyer area as she comes through the door, barely registering the sharp lock of the door or the soft clicks of the woman’s heels. In the centre is a table adorned with the most beautiful blue flowers Didi had ever seen. A wooden staircase twisted behind, being illuminated by the grand crystal chandelier that hung low. It was the most extravagant thing Didi had seen, and it was only the foyer. Soft classical music played from the room next door, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafting in through the arch.

“I’m Grace,” The woman spoke, manicured hands held over her heart. “We’re all very excited to meet you! Please, this way.”

She waltzed into the room with the classical music. A lounge room, couches that looked unlived in and perfectly placed pillows. Again, it was extraordinary, but this time seemed it sad and empty. She felt unease in here as if a pair of eyes were watching her, hidden far away.

“Oh, Reginald! Dolores is here!” Grace called out up some stairs, her voice a melody.

A man descended the stairs – not just any man, the man. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, her new father. Dressed in a well-pressed suit and a gold monocle catching the minimal sun rays coming through.

“Number 8.” He said - that was all.

Maybe not a new father, then. Didi internally questioned the usage of Number 8. Weren’t there 6 kids? Does this mean she just had a weird dream about an apocalypse with Five for no reason? Who’s the seventh kid, if not her?

Behind Reginald stood a chimpanzee dressed formally. Didi blinked a few times.

Behind Reginald still stood a chimpanzee, dressed formally. It even wore a tie done up properly.

“Get the children, Pogo.” Reginald addressed the chimpanzee as if it could understand.

“Of course, Sir.” The chimpanzee, Pogo, replied. Didi stared in disbelief at the animal, mouth wide open.

“You have the ability to configure your body into any living being, and you are shocked by a talking monkey?” Reginald asks, now standing directly in front of Didi.

“I’m sorry, Sir… Hargreeves…” She uttered pathetically. What was Didi meant to call him? Daddy-o? Reginald?

“Do not be sorry. Be better, Number 8.”

Didi didn’t even want to be here, and now she’s being belittled? Not even called her name? Was she meant to stand up to him? Why did she desperately want to impress a man who had only been cruel to her on her very first impression?

“Sir,” Pogo was back. “The children.”

“Oh, they’re going to love you.” Grace chimed.

Tingly fingers. Breathe. Tight throat. Breathe. Heavy feet. Breathe.

A chorus of whispers filled the air.

“Is that her?”

“Oh, she’s pretty.”

“Get off my foot, asshole.”

“Kill yourself.”

“Keep going!”

The children marched down the stairs, forming an orderly line behind Reginald. They stood with their heads held high, hands clasped behind their backs. There was no Five. Didi’s heart sank, not entirely sure of what it meant that he wasn’t here but knowing it meant nothing good.

“Children!” Grace smiled dazzlingly. “This is Dolores, the newest member of our family.”

“What family?” Number 6 muttered under his breath.

“She is Number 8, that is how she will be referred to.” Reginald countered.

“That family.” Whispered who Didi had to assume to be Number 7. She hadn’t seen him on the news before, or in any papers or articles, and wondered how he fit into the Umbrella Academy. Didi hadn’t studied him, his features or mannerisms. As soon as Number 7 made eye contact with Didi, she groaned. Her features involuntarily morphed into his, her height shrinking slightly, bones creaking under the weight of the transformation.

Number 7’s eyes widened. His mouth fell open to say something, but his family beat him to it.

“Oh, cool!”

“That looks just like Viktor.”

“That’s her power, dipshit.”

“I said, KILL yourself.”

Didi forced herself back into her own body.

“I am so sorry, sometimes I can’t help it if I haven’t seen someone before. You’re not in any of the pictures of the academy.” Didi apologised.

“Viktor doesn’t have any powers.” Number 3 replied. “That’s why they’re not in any pictures.”

“Allison!” Number 4 gasped.

“What? It’s the truth.” Allison rolled her eyes.

“Children, please. Why don’t we introduce ourselves to Dolores?” Grace said sweetly, eyes holding a remarkably soft look for a robot.

“Just Didi is fine.” Didi didn’t feel like being called her full name, a name she had associated with being in trouble for her whole life.

“I’m Number 1.” The tall boy on the far left said. He held his head higher than the rest, his chest puffed out with pride.

“Diego.” The boy next to him said – Number 2. He had his domino mask poking out of his slack pocket, knives strapped over his sweater vest. He stared intently at Didi as if searching for weakness. His calculating eyes weren’t unlike Five’s.

“I’m Allison, it’s so nice to meet you!” The girl said. It sounded rehearsed. Her curly hair framed her face well, an amused smile toying with her lips. “I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”

Didi felt a little queasy at her grin. She gave a small, nervous smile of her own to Allison.

Keep breathing.

“I’m Klaus, and I’m an alcoholic.” Number 4 laughed out. His hair was messy and dark, falling into his eyes. His shirt was rumpled, and he had no shoes on. So much for the prim and proper look of the academy.

The boy next to Klaus hit him on the shoulder.

“What? It’s funny!” Klaus exclaimed.

“It won’t be when you need a new liver.” The boy turns to Didi. “Hi, I’m Ben. Welcome to the academy.” He gave a sincere smile and offered his hand out for Didi to shake. She takes it hesitantly, but was glad for the small gesture.

“I’m Viktor.” The last child says. Didi had honestly forgotten he was even there.

“Hi, everyone.” Didi gives a meek wave.

“Children, please return to your studies. Grace, show Number 8 her room.” Reginald commanded.

The children swept by and through the door. Allison and Klaus threw smiles and waves over their shoulders to say goodbye.

Breathe.

The rest of the house was just as icily beautiful. Muted green wallpaper with hard wooden floors, each corner decorated with exquisite art pieces or botany.

Grace had taken her up a floor and into the bedroom area. Posters of fighting techniques were stuck along the walls, feeling out of place against the other decorations. Grace opened a door on the end – her bedroom.

“This one is yours, Didi. Feel free to unpack and take the rest of the day to explore the mansion! On the top floor is Reginald’s room. It’s next to the painting of the solar system. Please knock before you enter, Reginald doesn’t like to be disturbed. Let’s see, curfew is at 9:30, and you will be woken up at 6 for breakfast. The children here undergo a vigorous academic education in addition to training, and you will be expected to do as well. Do you have any questions, Didi?”

Didi did not. It was one of those moments when you weren’t sure what you were missing because everything was happening all at once.

Grace left her there to unpack, humming happily as she went. Didi collapsed on the single mattress bed pushed against the wall, and observed her room. The covers of the bed were bland, the walls the same shade of green as the rest of the floor. A tall mirror was propped against a wall next to a decent-sized empty wardrobe, a desk sat in front of a large window that looked out over the bustling street.

Didi sat, staring. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before a knock rang on her door. It opened slightly and popped Allison, a plastic smile on her face.

“Hi, Didi. Dinner is ready. We all eat down in the dining room. Please, come join us! You can tell us all about you.” Allison said, again feeling rehearsed.

Didi followed Allison through the mansion, knowing full well that she would be lost in the maze of rooms and stairs if she tried to do this by herself. She’d grown up in a two-bedroom house – this was something else entirely.

"You have an accent, right?" Allison asked. Didi had gotten a few of those. They all had accents to her, but whatever.

"I'm from Australia." She quietly replied. 

"Oh. Ok."

They arrived in the dining room, the other children all seated with Reginald at the head of the table. There was an empty seat across from Viktor and next to Ben that Didi quickly slipped in to.

“Dad, that’s where-” Viktor tried to begin before being thrown a sharp look from Reginald.

“Silence while we eat, children. You can have your conversations while you’re getting ready for bed.” Reginald stated. The children were quiet, the only sounds were the scrapes of cutlery on the fine China plates.

Didi noticed a deep mark on the table where her glass would sit as if someone got into a fight with the table. She hoped they won. She delicately traced her fingers around it. Ben coughed next to her, catching her attention. He nodded up to a large painting above the crackling fireplace she hadn’t noticed before.

And there he was.

Five.

Preserved in an oil painting, the stern expression was so unlike the one of fear and despair she’d seen.

“He made that mark,” Ben whispered. “Then he disappeared. It’s been a few months. Dad keeps that picture there as a warning for us.”

“Warning of what?” Didi questioned.

“Warning of what happens when you don’t listen. Presumably die.”

She stared at the boy in the painting. The boy stared back.

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2020.

“Maybe we should move here. Living in a display home seems better than squatting in a library.”

“I don’t know, I always thought living in a library was unique. It had a certain… zing to it.”

Five and Didi had been on the road for a few minutes, exploring the destroyed neighbourhood and meeting the very burnt and dead neighbours. No chance of a community potluck there, unfortunately. Didi was strapped into the wheelbarrow, now holding a nice dark blue blanket that only smelled a little bit like soot, as Five took her and showed her his favourite landmarks, which just consisted of storefronts and weirdly shaped bushes.

They had stopped in front of a display village, with all but one of the houses burning or knocked to the ground. The standing house was designed in a way that the pair had to assume was ‘modern’ (but was far to square-like and foul), with enough space for one car in the garage – or wheelbarrow. One of the windows on the top floor was smashed and wreckage from the surrounding houses was strewn across the front lawn.

“Shall we go check it out? Do our own House Hunters episode?” Five asked, a sense of eagerness in his voice. Didi had known Five for a short while now and had never heard anything akin to excitement from him. Hopeful, almost.

“Do you even know what House Hunters is?” Didi questioned.

“No, honestly, it was a programme I saw in the newspaper. I just assumed it was about houses, and buying them.”

“It is! You’re great at assumptions.”

The door wasn't locked. Five carefully pushed Didi in and instinctively hit the light switch. He muttered an apology under his breath and pushed on further into the house. He whipped off his hat and goggles, pulled down his handkerchief around his chin and took in a deep breath. Didi didn't have to look back to know he was doing his weird little stretching routine. 

"Oh wow, I love it!" Didi said mockingly with a 50's accent, her hand thrown over her heart if she could. "Right over here is where our lil' cherubs would play."

"Would you have a home-cooked meal ready for me after a long day at the office?" Five asked, playing along. His accent needed some work, but he's got the spirit.

"But of course, darling! And a lamb roast every Sunday, cleanly pressed suits ready for your big promotion!"

Five laughed, a pleasant sound to Didi. It was a nice break from the screaming and crying that would sometimes happen.

"Ah, Dolores, we sound just like my parents. Do you want to sit on the couch?" Five gestured to a light L-seater tucked into the corner of the living room. It had a couple of throw pillows that Didi was sure made the place pop when the windows weren't covered in ash.

"Yes, please." 

Five undid Didi's buckles and carefully lifted her out to place her on the couch.

"Comfortable?"

"Yes, Five."

Didi stares into Five's green eyes, not for the first time finding herself stuck in them. The concern, the occasional spark, the desperation. Five's eyes blinked back, content. 

Five sits down and a puff of dust and soot comes out from the couch, resulting in a coughing fit from the boy. Didi would reach out and pat him, but she couldn't, so she lightly laughed at the misfortune instead.

"What were your parents like?" Didi dared to ask. He'd always been evasive about them if not asked directly, quick to change the subject. But now Didi was living with his parents. She wasn't going to tell him that, though. That would be so much to unpack. Hey! I replaced you in your own family. Ben even gave me a copy of  1984 he was holding onto for you. Your father hates me and forces me to shift into Number 1 for training. And Number 1 hates me so much he won't tell me his name. Pogo, am I right?

"Well, my mum was a robot. Dad called her Grace. She raised us since we were 7. Gave us names and everything, because Dad didn't care enough to."

"And you didn't want one."

"Oh, I was given one. I just didn't use it. Dad called us by our numbers anyway so I didn't see the point. Names were a weak attempt to make us human, but I already felt like a well-dressed monster and nothing was going to change that. I blinked away from home for a few days in protest of the names. And I was still called Number 5."

"What name were you given?"

Five scrunched up his face in thought.

"I don't entirely remember. I think it started with a G, though."

"Gerald."

"Do not call me Gerald, Dolores."

"Graham."

"No."

"Graham Cracker."

"Absolutely not."

"Grayson."

"Like Robin? Please, Dolores, I'm more like Lex Luthor with hair. And legs."

"I'll be the leg-less one for you, then."

"That's so sweet and considerate, thank you."

"Gex Guthor."

"Dolores."

Five had an annoyed expression on his face, the slight upturn of his mouth betraying him. He shook his head slightly, smiling down at the floor.

"What about your dad?" Didi asked softly.

"What about him?"

"What was he like?"

"All my months in the apocalypse, and my years with Klaus, I've never had alcohol. I think I'd like wine. We should stock up the kitchen with food, make it seem like a real home."

"Five-"

"Do you like board games, Dolores? We could play modern Trivial Pursuit and try to answer the questions for a life we never lived."

"You keep deflecting the question."

Five jumps off the couch and paces along the hard wooden floor. He runs his gloved hands through his unkept hair before rubbing his forehead.

"I don't want to talk about it. I mean this in the nicest way possible - take a hint."

He stands there, his hands over his mouth, staring out the window. Didi can see a teardrop fall down his face, making a clean track on his dirt-ridden face. 

"Fuck, I'm going insane. Don't... don't answer. Don't say anything. You're just a mannequin."

And his words stung, took the wind out of her plastic lungs as if Number 1 just punched her in the stomach. Of course, Five would only think of Didi as a mannequin - that's what she was in this fucked up universe. Even if she didn't know anything about his family, Didi was Five's only form of company in the apocalypse.

"I'm sorry, Five. I just wanted to know more about you." Didi felt her stomach twist and turn with guilt. Seeing Five break down in front of her, again, but this time because of her, felt terrible. She was supposed to help him through this. 

"I know, I'm sorry too. It was lonely, in the academy. My siblings and I only had each other. And now I don't have them. I just have... you."

Five wipes the tears from his face again, rubbing dirt around on his cheeks. He sits deflated on the couch, spent after his moment.

"I'm going insane, Dolores." Five turns to Didi. "Can I hold you?"

Something inside of Didi breaks. She's the same age as the boy in front of her, but he carries years of parental neglect and months of isolation on his shoulders. All she has are dead parents. Five might have that too, who knows?

"I'd hold you if I could, Five. One day I will." She promised. She wasn't sure why. She wasn't sure how she would even do that.

Five lies down on the couch and pulls Didi with him. It felt similar to how Didi would cuddle a stuffed animal for comfort during a thunderstorm. His arms wrapped tight around her plastic torso, head buried in her shoulder blades. Didi felt his breathing calm down, the rise and fall of his chest against her back.

"You want to know more about me?" He asked, his voice sounding tired.

"I do. Can you tell me anything?"

"I should be an open book - I'm in the apocalypse. I'll get over it." Five yawned. "I'm smart. Good at science and maths and all that. My favorite colour is blue. I like coffee. I know there are health risks, especially with my age, but I like the bitter taste it leaves me with."

"Coffee, huh?"

"Yeah. And one more thing before I fall asleep."

"You're tired?"

"Well I know your mannequin head doesn't have a brain, but-"

"Rude, Five."

He laughed.

"But my brain is in constant overdrive. I don't know how to get out of the apocalypse, but I can't find a way if I'm tired." Five continued.

"Alright, Five, you've got me there. What's your final thing?"

"I'm really glad you're here. I think I'm starting to like you."

Five drifted off to sleep, leaving Didi alone with her thoughts. Like her? She was a mannequin! How lonely was this boy? And what kind of like was it? She felt like she was back in high school, crushing on the cute soccer player in the year above. She hadn't thought it wise to form any romantic attachment to Five, opting to be a pillar of safety instead. Yeah, he was cute and all, but he was trapped in the future. Her dream boy - literally. She could only see him in her dreams. 

A dream that finished far too quickly for her to digest what was going on. 

Didi's morning alarm rang sharply in her bedroom, forcing her up and out of bed. She barely had time to rub the sleep from her eyes before a pounding at her door threatened to break it down.

"Are you decent?" A voice asked on the other side. Diego.

"Yeah, yeah I am," Didi straightened out her silk pyjamas before answering the door. "Good morning."

Diego was already dressed in training gear. Allison stood behind him, peeking into her room. Nosy. 

"Dad's decided you can j...oin training," Diego said, careful to make sure every word came out right. Didi had noticed Diego had a stutter but only seemed to come out when angry or excited. Judging by the grin on Allison's face, it was excitement.

"Oh, Reginald thinks I'm ready?" Didi's head was still reeling from Five's emotional roller coaster. She wasn't sure she could handle power training today. Getting punched was one thing, but having to fight Ben's tentacles or Diego's knives was another.

"Yeah, he does." Allison smiled wider.

"Ready to get stabbed, Didi?"

What?

Getting punched was one thing, getting stabbed was another. 

And Didi still felt like she was breathing soot. 

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2003.

Training with the academy was a challenging task. Sometimes it was all combat, with no powers allowed to be used. Number 1, whose name she still didn’t know, was the tutor for those sessions, a power the others thought he abused. Didi would often spar with Allison, who'd quietly whisper “I heard a rumor you let me win.” in Didi’s ear.

Didi was with Number 1 and Diego when the children trained with their powers. They were the most skilled at combat, catching her up on missed information, but Reginald had also decided they had reached the capacity of their powers and did not require further dedicated training. As much as it hurt, Didi accepted that she could never surpass shifting.

Until Didi got stabbed.

She and Number 1 paired off against Diego. A sense of trust was forced between Number 1 and Didi as he threw Didi around to distract Diego in the obstacle course-inspired area. Pogo watched over them, with Reginald and the other children in the room next door.

Since Didi’s body was constantly changing form, Diego’s knife trajectory was always off just by a smidgen.

Until Didi got stabbed.

The blade sliced deep into Didi’s thigh, sharp hot pain racing up and around the wound. Didi let out a wild scream in pain, clutching uselessly at the knife, something in the back of her mind reminding her to not remove the blade or she’ll bleed out. Number 1 and Diego ran over to her, afraid she was dying. They saw the blood dripping down her leg and onto the floor and shrugged. How dare they?

“It’s ok, Diego stabs people all the time. Go get Mom, Diego.” Number 1 said calmly, kneeling next to Didi to apply pressure to the wound. The way he and Diego were so calm about it did nothing to help the queasiness in Didi’s stomach. She watched Diego run into the next room over, calling out for Grace and Reginald.

Didi started to hyperventilate. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her vision going black around the edges. Her fingers tingled again, her legs feeling heavy and like they were on fire. The back of her neck itched, her throat closing in on her. Her head ached, her eyes feeling swollen. Thoughts of Five flashed through her mind, him pushing her around in the wheelbarrow.

“Didi, just breathe,” Number 1 said, worry starting to seep into his voice. “I know it’s scary and it hurts a lot, but you need to breathe normally.”

Her whole body was feeling heavy now. Surprisingly hollow. Like she was having an out-of-body experience. She struggled to take any air in. Visions of Five were more vivid now, she could smell his cologne of ash, and feel his gloved hands on hers. She started to lose herself in it.

Until Didi remembered she got stabbed.

“DIEGO!” Number 1 was yelling now. “Didi, your whole body is going hard. Do you know what this is? Please, please calm down. It’s going to be ok.”

Number 1 pressed harder around the wound, and Didi could understand what he meant. Instead of her thigh muscle and fat giving way as it should, it clanged into her other leg with a soft thud.

Diego returned with all the others. Number 1 looked at Allison, who immediately understood what he was asking. She rushed to her side alongside Grace, who had a first aid kit in hand and took one of Didi’s hard hands in hers.

“I heard a rumor you were calm,” Allison said firmly. Didi normally hated being rumoured by her but was grateful this one time. Her thigh gave way to Number 1’s pressure once again. Her breathing was normal. Her heart rate was coming down. Five was gone, all that remained were the anxious faces of the other children.

And the knife still sticking out of Didi’s leg.

She got stabbed, how could she forget?

“I’ve never seen someone react like that.” Number 1 said to Reginald. Reginald just nodded in acknowledgement. Blood was spilling out of Number 1’s hands, ruining his training uniform.

Grace undid the first aid box but Reginald held his cane out in front of her to stop.

“Transform, Number 8.” He ordered Didi.

Didi looked at the other children, worry and shock on their faces. Allison gave a strong nod. Didi took a deep breath and shifted into Allison. Allison was taller and had more muscles, and the position of the knife shifted as Didi tried to configure a thigh around the metal blade. No, it was more than that – she was being stabbed again. Every inch of her begged to scream again, but Allison’s rumour still grounded her.

“Again, Number 8.”

Didi would shift into Reginald if he hadn’t forbidden it. She shifted into Number 1, who was even taller, and the knife fell deeper into her leg. Didi let out a gasp of pain, that was all her mind permitted her. She allowed herself a glance at Number 1, who she wouldn’t ever say she was close enough with to shift into, and saw the panicked look of seeing himself bleed out. There was something else in his eyes, a sadness or disgust.

“Take the knife out.” Reginald was now ordering Number 1.

“But, sir-”

“No buts, Number 1. Take the knife out.”

Number 1 carefully slid the knife out of Didi’s thigh, trying to keep pressure on the wound simultaneously. The crimson blade clattered to the floor, blood now freely pouring out. Didi felt faint, her vision darkening again.

“Now, shift.” Reginald spoke to Didi. Didi tried with all her might to shift but felt close to passing out. She managed to shift back into herself before falling on the floor. Exhausted. Crying. She felt Number 1 remove his soaked hands from her thigh, a tremble in his movements.

“Fascinating.”

A chorus of gasps and whispers erupted around her.

She looked down at the wound on her thigh. Nothing. No blood, no open skin, no scar. It was like she’d never been stabbed at all.

“What does this mean, Dad?” Diego asked.

“We can harness this strain of immortality, Number 8!” Reginald stood tall in front of her. “Any sickness, injury, any fatality would be removed before it could cause any damage.”

Reginald bent down to her level. His curious eyes looked at her more intensely than ever, as if she was now worth something to him. Didi felt like a guinea pig being examined by her new, eager owner.

“Most fascinating, indeed. Full of surprises, Number 8,” Reginald remarked. The refusal of her first name brought her mind back to what Five said about just being numbers to Reginald. Didi realised she was exactly like a guinea pig now.

Reginald stood back up, not even sparing a look at the other children.

“Training is finished for the day. Please prepare for your next lesson.”

“Sir?” Number 1 called out behind him.

“Luther, what are you doing?” Allison whispered. Now Didi finally knew his name.

“Number 8 and I need to talk to you about… About her abilities.” Luther stood up.

“Come along, then.” Reginald didn’t look back over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

Luther marched behind him, showing similar characteristics as Reginald, just expecting Didi to follow him. It was a stark contrast to the concerned boy she saw earlier, he was now this robot that put Grace to shame with the lack of emotions.

“Lucky, missing out on an intensely boring chemistry lesson.” Klaus groans to Didi, before becoming sincere. “I’ve had my fair share of near-death experiences. Are you ok? I know they’re difficult to process.”

“Yeah, I think I’m ok. Thank you, Klaus.” Didi replied. She was shaken up, but at least she wasn’t bleeding out.

“If you need someone to talk to, we’re here for you, Didi.” Ben offered a smile.

“You better go, Dad doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Allison reminded. Diego scoffed next to her.

“Neither does Luther. Like father, like son.” Diego mumbled.

“Come find us after, let us know how it went. We want to make sure you’re ok.” Allison pulled Didi into a tight hug.

Didi left the room, the others saying their goodbyes and good lucks. She travelled up the stairs, running so as not to be late. When she got to Reginald’s office, Luther and Reginald were already in conversation.

“Thank you for taking your time joining us, Number 8,” Reginald said, his voice slick with authority. “I’d be mad if I wasn’t so interested in your new developments.”

Luther beckoned Didi to come forward. “I was telling Dad about your body hardening. Have you ever done that before?” Luther asked.

Didi recalled what she thought to be panic attacks. Her fingers would tingle, her feet would get heavy, and it would be difficult to breathe. She felt like that in new situations, whenever she was threatened, whenever something like a fight-or-flight response should kick in. Didi had always thought it to be something like anxiety, but maybe it was.

Then she thought of Five and the apocalypse. Where she was a mannequin. A hard, hollow, plastic mannequin. Maybe it wasn’t an unexplainable phenomenon happening in her dreams. Maybe it was shifting into a-

“I have never been pushed to that extent, pain-wise.” She reported to Reginald. There was no need to make assumptions about what her dreams meant. With how much Five hated his adoptive father, Didi didn’t want to bring Five up to Reginald. Perhaps not even bringing up the apocalypse was stupid, but Didi didn’t know enough about it to talk to Reginald without making herself look like a fool. There was still that adolescent need to prove herself as an academy member and impress Reginald. She understood Luther in that sense.

“I’ve had what I chalked up to be panic attacks, or anxiety, where I felt similar symptoms, but they’ve never gotten to that extent.” Didi continued.

“And what did her skin feel like, Number 1?” Reginald asked, his interest still piqued. He was scribbling in a leather-bound notebook, his fountain pen running fast against the pages.

“Soft plastic. Like a doll. I could have snapped it if I pushed hard enough.” Luther replied. Good to know she was easy to break. But hey; she survived the apocalypse, not Luther.

Reginald finished his writing and looked up at Didi. He examined her again, his eyes squinting behind his golden monocle.

“I will begin individualised, extensive training with you, starting next week, Number 8. That is all. Please leave.” Reginald waved them away with his hand, resuming his writing.

Luther marched out, Didi following close behind. Klaus had told her about his training with Reginald. Reginald locked Klaus in a mausoleum. Klaus recalled that as the moment that drove him to do drugs, just to stop the dead voices coming in. Didi wasn’t keen to find out what her training would be.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Lessons, dinner, clean up time. Didi walked down the hallway to her bedroom and ran into Ben, exiting out of his room. A rule broken, and by Ben no less.

“Hey, Didi. Are you doing ok?” He asked softly, not wanting to alert anyone to their presence firmly not in bed.

“You mean getting stabbed isn’t a regular occurrence?” Didi tried to lighten the mood. Ben let out a soft chuckle before moving on.

“I don’t know if you want to do this after the day you’ve just had, but we’re sneaking out to a diner just down the road. 24/7, crap drinks but decent food. Would you like to come with me?”

“Sneaking out past curfew? I didn’t know the Hargreeves roll like that.”

“Well, you’re a Hargreeves now too, Didi. Come on – I’ve got Klaus waiting to share a doughnut with me.”

They snuck into Diego’s room which just so happened to have a drainpipe right outside the window. Didi shimmed down the pipe gracefully, whereas Ben was far more clunky. It had started to rain, the drizzle reflecting streetlights off the wet pavement. It splashed high as Ben and Didi ran across roads and stores.

The rest of the children, minus Viktor, were at the diner already. Didi took in the neon lights above, the 50’s diner ambience, and headed inside with Ben. The smell of coffee wafted through the air; it reminded her of Five. Sometimes he would just shovel coffee beans straight in his mouth and down some long-life milk that was probably expired. The memory brought a smile to her face. Huddled in a corner at a booth, sharing some milkshakes, were the academy kids. Some had thick coats over their pyjamas, and some were dressed in casual gear. Diego had his mask peeking out from his pant pocket.

Didi and Ben slide into the booth, Didi sitting next to Allison.

“Hey, that was so intense today, right?” She giggled, handing Didi some of her éclair. Didi accepted gratefully.

“Reginald is kinda scary!” Didi laughed, chewing on the éclair. “So, what do we do about being out in public? Aren’t you all like… famous?”

“No, no, girl – we're famous. You’re with us now! And it’s chill. I rumored everyone in the place to forget we were here.”

“You… what?”

“Didi! Allison rumored everyone to forget we were here!” Klaus called out from across the table. “I spiked my milkshake, do you want some?”

“Not all of us are underage drinkers, Klaus.” Luther chided, taking Klaus’ milkshake and sniffing it. He made a disgusted face, a giggle coming from everyone else.

“Well, if little Miss Number 8 gets extensive training, maybe she will be.”

“I’m not having another Klaus on the team.”

“Can’t handle too much sexy, I get it.”

“Gross, man!”

Klaus made kissy faces before Allison reached out and smacked him upside the head.

“Ow! Sorry, Allison, I forgot Luther’s your man, and your man alone.” Klaus mocked, rubbing the top of his head. Allison was blushing, looking down at her drink and twirling the straw. She seemed uncomfortable. 

“Wait, I’m sorry, aren’t you-” Didi was cut off by a loud sigh from Allison.

“Siblings? Yes. Adoptive, but still siblings.” Diego chuckled. The rest of the children looked amused as if they’d come to terms with the relationship a while ago.

“Oh, uh, okay,” Didi uttered out, wide eyes surveying Luther and Allison.

“I’m leaving.” Allison barked out, looking at Didi to get up and move. Didi sprung out of her seat, not being used to being on the receiving end of the harsh look Allison was giving. It was normally reserved for Diego or Klaus. Allison got up and left, Luther leaving as well and calling out to her. Ben and Klaus shared a look and got up to follow the pair, leaving Didi standing alone with Diego, who was sipping on his shake and staring at her.

“Did I do something?” She asked, sitting back down in the booth timidly. The energy she gathered running here had disappeared. Diego shrugged his shoulders.

“Why do you think that?”

“I’d been here for 5 minutes, and everyone is gone. First Hargreeves hang out outside the academy.”

“Don’t worry, there will be more for you to f…uck up.” Diego was stuttering. Was he nervous? His eyes gave nothing away, they just stared back at Didi. Maybe it was the being out in public, breaking rules, or the constant need to be prepared for a battle that was drilled into all of them from Reginald.

“You think so?”

Diego nods. He pushes over whatever Luther was eating as an offering.

“I’m sorry about training. I’ve worked with m…oving targets but not sh…ifting ones.” Diego apologises.

“Hey, that’s ok. I got over it. I trust you, maybe we just have to work together more!”

Diego turns to look at the other people in the diner. A middle-aged lady running the counter, dressed in a pretty pink apron. A few businessmen and truck drivers, finishing their shift or about to start it. A young couple, some grandparents. His eyes scanned over all of them. Didi recognises that same awareness, the always planning an escape route thinking. Diego turns back to Didi, eyes a little softer. She sees all of that in Five.

“I d…on’t trust easily. You trust too easily. You’re either an idiot or a good person.”

“Can’t I be both?”

“Not in this family. Good doesn’t l…ast. Selfishness perseveres.”

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2020.

Dolores had laughed at Five when he insisted on stocking up on beanies, scarves, and other warm winter items. It was burning hotter than the summers she had as a kid, she was surprised her plastic body hadn’t melted away.

That was until the snow blizzard hit. Five was the one laughing now. Dolores was more awestruck; she’d explained that it was the first time she’d ever seen snow. She loved how it fell delicately at first, each snowflake caught in the wind, to the intense onslaught of snow that led Five and Dolores to be trapped inside their “home”. Dolores was captured by the icy beauty, asking to be sat facing out the window and requesting a beanie to keep her bald head warm.

Five taught Dolores mathematic equations over chess games. Five would also win every chess game, but sometimes Dolores would give him a run for his money. Dolores taught Five the different types of ballet and their historical origins over canned fruit yet to go mouldy. Five would offer her a spoonful of food, his face giving no indication that he was aware Dolores couldn’t eat. That Dolores had no mouth, no oesophagus, no stomach. She would smile at him and say that her ballerina diet didn’t allow it. Five was appreciative that Dolores acted like she wasn’t a mannequin. In different circumstances, he’d be suspicious, but beggars can’t be choosers for their company. She was funny and calming, and she didn’t stink like he did. Five missed running water.

They had settled into a routine. Five was becoming more open about who he was, his rocky relationship with his father, acknowledging his hubris and taking steps to never let it be his downfall again. He allowed himself to trust. He bounced ideas off Dolores, working harder on escaping the apocalypse than ever because he was finally calm. Well, calm enough. He still had threads of thought telling him he was insane. He was bouncing ideas off a mannequin, afterall.

Neither of them talked about Five’s confession. Dolores didn’t want to embarrass Five. Five thought Dolores forgot. Nothing changed between them, but since his last outburst Five realised that finding a way out was far more beneficial than feeling sorry for himself or getting angry and upset. He wasn’t about to prove his father right.

The snowstorm passed and the fires were put out. The ground was slick with ice but at least they could leave the house. Five needed new markers and Dolores was starting to get cabin fever, so he tucked her into the wheelbarrow and set off.

The world around them had changed. It wasn’t bustling with greenery, but at least there was a promise of it. The rapid weather changes did alarm Five, but it was an unpredictable territory that he would calmly and safely navigate. As much as it freaked him out. Five hopped his thick goggles and mask would hide his disdain.

“Oh, wow, I can’t believe I haven’t asked this before!” Dolores exclaimed, disbelief evident in her voice. Five knew exactly what the question would be. He’d asked it himself a million times and still wasn’t sure.

“I can’t believe it, either.” Five replied. “If asking questions was a crime, you’d be doing 20 to life.”

“And you answer every single one.”

“I know, I know.”

They walked in silence for a minute. They passed the grocery store they ransacked before the blizzard.

“Are you deflecting again?” Dolores asked. “Because if you don’t want to talk about it, I won't. I just can’t see the face you’re making so I don’t know how you feel about it.”

“I was waiting for you to ask the question. Thought I’d let the suspense build.”

Five could feel eye-rolling energy from Dolores. Not that she could roll her eyes, being painted on and everything.

“How did the apocalypse happen?”

It was time for Five to admit defeat.

“I’m not sure, Dolores. I think it was something natural, there’s no sign of help or communication or anything. It happened all at once. But I don’t know what it is.”

“No ideas?”

“I didn’t have anything till the rapid weather change. Going from high temperatures to blizzards is… Hm. That’s a clue. I’d like to see if I could find the ocean. There’s probably a correlation there.”

“I didn’t know you could speak in indefinites.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, you’re always like ‘this is the thing. Nothing else is possible.’ Like, you always talk in absolutes.”

“It’s not absolutes. I’m just always right, Doll.”

Dolores laughed. It wasn’t a particularly pretty laugh, but Five thought it was the sweetest thing. He’d been having a lot more positive thoughts lately, not just regarding Dolores. It’s what inspired him to go back to where it all began. Because if Dolores was with him, he’d be ok. He always was when she was there.

“I’d like to have a look at something. It’s, uhm… it’s not pretty. Heartbreaking. Is it ok if I take you there?” Five asked. He waited for her response, the cogs in his brain already turning. Perhaps there was something he missed. He’d run away so quickly, too scared and confused to stop and assess what had happened.

“Five, you can do anything. Please, lead the way. I’m here for you.”

Five took Dolores to the ruins of the Umbrella Academy Mansion. When the mansion fell, so did the academy. Five punched his mask tighter around his nose.

“Sorry about any smell, Dolores.”

It was the first time Five had been back there since he blipped into the apocalypse. He hadn’t noticed that his family’s bodies were much more intact than the rest of civilization till much later. He didn’t stop to count but recalled three were missing after. Five thought it was originally two until he learned about the existence of Number 8. Some brilliant member of the academy she was meant to be. Of course, he was wrong again – a solid losing streak now – for Ben had died many years before the apocalypse. He didn’t expect to see Viktor with the rest of the family. Viktor was never a part of the Umbrella Academy, after all.

But Five was back now, and he could see things for what they were. He’d loosely come to terms with everyone but him and Dolores being dead. He could even ignore the smell. Five started to go through pockets. He tried to imagine himself as a detective, rather than a 14-year-old boy – maybe 15 now, he wasn’t too sure – going through his dead siblings’ belongings to see what killed them.

“Five?” Dolores's voice was panicked. “What am I looking at?”

Five paused, realising his mistake of not explaining what was going on. He looked from Dolores to the decaying body of Luther, and back again. He’d loosely come to terms with the fact his whole family was dead. Five didn’t trust his voice to hold out if he spoke.

Five noticed something in Luther’s fist. What was once a tight grip had gone limp and revealed a glass eye. It seemed like the academy had died fighting someone, the eyeball their reward. Maybe the apocalypse wasn’t entirely natural, maybe man had influence. Whoever the eyeball belonged to might even be responsible, at least partially.

Five ripped the bottom of Luther’s shirt and wrapped the glass eye in it before placing it in his pocket.

“I don’t want to explain it here. Can we keep walking?” Five was already moving behind the wheelbarrow. Dolores said a quiet yes, and Five kept pushing. Both were silent for a while. Now removed from the situation, Five allowed himself to feel. To feel distraught, angry, and sorry for himself. Now and again the glass eye would roll around and remind Five of its presence as if to taunt him.

They stopped at a park with a singular stone bench. Five moved Dolores onto the bench and sat down next to her. He pulled the glass eye out and toyed with it, removing his thick gloves to feel it properly.

“Five? What was that? The eye – who’s eye is that?”

The eye had a serial number engraved on the back of it. With no way to research anything, let alone a prosthetic backlog, it was useless. He held the eye up to the sky, hoping the gloomy sun would reveal something. Deep reddish-brown stared back at him.

“Five?”

He put the eye back in his pocket. He turned to face Dolores, worry all over her painted face.

“Dolores, that was my family.”

“The Umbrella Academy?”

“What’s left of them, yes.”

“There were only 4 of them there. I thought you said there were… 8 of you.”

“Viktor was never going to be with them. If the academy was fighting something, he’d be no use. I’m not there because I’m here. Alive.”

“In 2020.”

“Mm. I should get a calendar or something. I don’t even know how old I am.”

“It’s almost your 15^th birthday.”

“Thank you, Doll.”

“You’re welcome. What about the others? Ben and… and Didi?”

“Have I not told you yet?”

“Told me what? I just assumed they all died in the apocalypse.”

“No, I’m sorry. Ben died when he was 17. No one seemed to know how. I’ve looked at every newspaper article I could.”

Dolores paused for a moment. It was a lot to take in, Five understood that.

“And Didi?” She finally asked.

Five had no reason to be suspicious.

“Did I ever tell you Number 8’s name was Didi?” Five asked, eyes narrowing in focus ever so slightly.

Perhaps his memory had gone bad.

“I saw it in your brother’s book. My life as Number 7.” Dolores replied.

Explainable. Even if it wasn’t, Dolores was a stem of his imagination. Of course she would know everything he did. A version of his subconscious trapped in silicone.

“Sorry, of course. I couldn’t find her body. I didn’t look very hard. She’s a shapeshifter, I don’t know what she would even look like.”

Dolores was silent. She stared back at him, Five imagining her mouth agape in shock.

“She’s not my family, I don’t know her. I’m sorry if that makes me an asshole, but she replaced me in my own family.” Five continued.

Dolores continued to stare back.

“I’ll give you a minute. You should process all of this.” Five gave Dolores’ hand a reassuring squeeze. He dug into the wheelbarrow and retrieved his notebook and a Spiderman pen. It was the first pen he found in the apocalypse; it was special to him. Now armed with a clue for the apocalypse, Five started brainstorming. If he could figure out the cause, he could figure out a way to return to his original timeline.

“I’m truly sorry for not telling you sooner, Dolores. I don’t know why I didn’t. No more secrets, promise.” Five said. He looked up at Dolores, eyes searching for recognition.

“No more secrets.” She replied as if she were the one with something to hide.

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2003.

Didi had faint memories of her mother being against tattoos for her. Her mother would joke about disowning Didi if she ever came home with one. Reginald had no such hangups.

Deep black ink mixed with droplets of blood on her forearm to create that iconic umbrella, a present for her 15th birthday. She was officially a member of the Umbrella Academy. Officially branded as one of Reginald’s experiments. The tattoo disappeared when she shifted into other people, but she could never get it off her own skin. Didi clawed at it, tempted to remove the branding with a knife. The tattoo haunted her by day and night, never able to escape the image of the same tattoo embedded on the other academy member's arms, alive or decaying.

She thought she found a loophole. She shifted into the form she had the day before, her but one day younger. The tattoo disappeared. Didi was relieved until Grace informed Reginald of the tattoo. Didi wondered if Reginald would even notice if not for Grace – that would mean he’d have to pay attention and care, right?

Reginald was not happy with Didi after that. He tried to punish her. Training became physically more taxing. But pain was no issue for Didi, simply able to shift any wounds inflicted away. So Reginald became more creative under the ruse of “wanting to explore and enhance Number 8’s powers”. And he did, indeed, punish her.

Didi had memories of her mother being against teen pregnancy. Reginald had no such hangups.

Reginald took her and Klaus to a private hospital. Klaus kept shuddering, claiming the hospital was rife with forgotten souls desperate for attention. Reginald brought them to a maternity ward, through to a private room where a woman was in labour. Sweat dripped down the woman’s face, clearly in pain. The woman screamed at Reginald to get out, frantically asking the doctors to remove him and the children.

The staff told the woman that Reginald had donated a large sum of money to the hospital to witness childbirth for the Umbrella Academy. The woman screamed in agony and despair.

Reginald told Didi to shift.

“The pregnant woman, Number 8. Shift.”

“What? Sir, I-”

“No excuses, Number 8. Shift into that woman.”

Didi looked at Klaus. He was as surprised as she was, shocked that his father would request something like that. Klaus shouldn't have been shocked at all.

“Dad, that’s-” Klaus tried to interject. Reginald shot him a lethal look, shutting Klaus up immediately. Reginald turned to Didi, looking expectantly. Didi felt compelled to listen.

She took a breath before shifting into the pregnant woman. It was different to every other time she shifted. Her belly grew and grew, something exploding inside of it. The pain that rippled through her whole body was like nothing she’d ever experienced. She clung to Klaus for support, the pain becoming too much. Klaus hastily moved her to a nearby chair, holding Didi’s hands and patting her back. Didi’s screams mixed with the other woman’s, overpowering any instructions the staff were giving. The familiar feeling of being heavy returned, her fingers tingling and her throat feeling tight.

“Interesting.” Reginald said, observing her. No cares or worries for Didi herself, just the fact she seemed to have a baby in her stomach. He instructed a nurse to come over and confirm that Didi was pregnant. The nurse looked gravely at Didi before checking her stomach. She gave a nod of confirmation to Reginald. There was a baby inside of her. Klaus squeezed Didi’s hands tighter. Tears were already spilling from pain, but the pain was temporary for her, more so than others. Reginald knew this. Reginald had done this for the mental aspect.

“Shift back, Number 8.”

Didi looked at Reginald with bleary eyes. She ran her free hand over her stomach. There was a baby inside of her, bursting to come out. She was in active labour. And Reginald wanted her to transform? Didi was scared out of her mind, the pain taking over every sense. Klaus tried to hold her hands, now gone fully hard. It was spreading up her arms.

“I knew I should have brought Number 3. Now, Number 8. Don’t disappoint me more than you already have.”

Something clicked in that sentence. It was like her brain was hardwired to impress Reginald, to prove herself to him.

So she shifted back into herself. The hardness of her body slunk away now she wasn’t in any more danger.

No more pain, no more pregnancy - just the memory of it. Didi tried to regain her breath, clearing up tears and running her hands down her face in an attempt to calm herself down.

“Number 4, is there any ghost of that fetus?”

“The baby was never alive, Dad. That was such a fucked-up thing to do. No, there’s no ghost.”

“I knew you’d be disrespectful, Number 4. I’ve planned training for both of you. If it serves as a punishment, it’s simply because you deserve it. Come.” Reginald left the room, Klaus and Didi following close behind. Didi wondered if the other woman gave birth, too caught up in her pain at the moment.

It wasn’t enough to go through labour, Reginald had something else planned for her. While Klaus was alone in the morgue, forced to hone in on his spiritual skills, Didi underwent organ removal while conscious. Reginald instructed no anaesthetic to be used on Didi as she wouldn’t be able to shift and keep herself alive if she wasn't wide awake and aware.

Didi lay on the operating table, surgeons all around her. Images of people she knew flashed on the ceiling, prompting her to shift into them. The surgeons cut out her kidneys, lungs, intestines and livers, slicing open her skin every time she transformed. Her throat kept changing so it was never sore from screaming. They strapped her arms and legs down on the table, the straps chaffing her skin occasionally depending on who she shifted into. Her body never had time to listen to the warnings her brain was giving her to harden up, changing too much.

She lay there for what felt like hours. She tried to count how many times she shifted, or how many organs they removed, but it was too much. She was surprised she hadn’t passed out with pain. All she did was shift and cry.

The car ride home was silent. Klaus wouldn’t look at her, and that was fine with Didi. They stared out the car window but still held hands tightly, afraid the other would leave them in their own version of hell.

Klaus and Didi ignored everyone back at the mansion. Klaus took Didi into his room and immediately started pulling out draws in search of pills. He pulled out a few little white bars.

“Xanax.” He said, handing one to Didi. “Calms you.”

Didi gingerly took it, fingers running over the engraved words on the tablet.

“Is it illegal?” She asked. Klaus placed a pill on his tongue and threw his head back to swallow.

“Of course. Wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t. And what dear old Dad does is way worse. I’ve got some water if you need.” He reaches for his water bottle on his bedside table and gives it to Didi.

Didi swallows the pill. She curls up onto the floor, allowing the tears to flow again. Klaus lies down with her, rubbing her arm in reassurance.

Didi fell asleep at some point. She awoke to the familiar scent of burnt coffee and Five’s muttered ramblings of how to get out of the apocalypse. He stood facing away from her, scribbling madly along the walls of their home.

At least as a mannequin, she didn’t have any tear ducts.

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2020.

Five was on another of his scarily intelligent rants. Equation this, trajectory that. Loophole, timeline, space versus space. What scared Didi more was that she could understand half of what he was saying. She felt like a nerd. She’d make fun of herself for it later.

Five had taken her to a beach-side resort. It took him about 4 days to walk there, lugging her posh and plush wheelbarrow behind. His calves look all the better for it, but it was hard to focus on that when his eyes looked crazy. Excitement swirled with insanity behind his goggles.  He wore a tattered Hawaiian shirt Didi jokingly asked him to wear, sipping his canteen water from a broken hurricane glass with one of those tiny umbrellas that reminded her of an ice cream sundae.

She sat next to him on an ashy beach lounger, looking out at the ocean that had-

“There’s no water, Dolores. The apocalypse was a natural phenomenon.”

“What about the eye?” She asked.

“I think whoever this eye belongs to triggered the events. Caused them, even.”

“So, someone looking like Mike Wazowski causes the apocalypse.”

“Who’s Mike Wazowski?”

“You’ve never seen Monsters Inc.?”

“No, Doll. No childhood and then the apocalypse. You know this!”

“Mike Wazowski is a little green monster with one eye. A Cyclops.”

“Ok, so we’re looking for a humanoid Wazowski. Alongside no water, what else do we have?”

“Rapid weather changes, and presumably no moon.”

Five pulled off his goggles to put on sunglasses. They sat slightly askew across his face due to damage. He took another pair from the wheelbarrow and placed them delicately on Didi’s face. His hand lingered for a second longer than necessary. Didi’s plastic heart began to beat faster.

“Are they sitting ok?” Five asked quietly, his breath fanning against her plastic face.

“Yeah, they’re fine.” Didi was glad that the sunglasses would hide any facial reactions she had. And the fact she was a mannequin. Silver lining and all.

Five sat back down on the lounger, topping up his glass with more water. He brings out a golden pocket watch, ticking haphazardly.

“Almost time.” He said.

The sky was a brilliant yellow, smoke still filtering through the clouds. Any minute and the moon would overlap with the sun. A solar eclipse that was meant to occur on the 14^th of December, 2020.

Five and Didi sat in silence for a while. Five had scooted his lounger closer to Didi, threading an arm behind to rest on the back of her chair. They watched as the sun glowed white and was never covered.

“There’s no moon.” Five whispered, shocked. He pulled out a notebook from the wheelbarrow and began writing. Just like that, any moment of closeness was gone. “Destroying the moon would create all the other natural disasters. Wazowski destroyed the moon. But how? And why? How does this help me get back home?”

Five looked expectantly at Didi.

“Maybe Wazowski was meant to do something else, and accidentally blew up the moon?” Five seemed pleased with that answer for now. He nodded and returned to writing, pen scraping fast against the page.

Sitting at the beach, Didi realised that she hadn’t seen the ocean in a while. Not since her parents died. She should feel sadder than she does about her parents, and yet her heart longed for the sea more. One of her parents was a marine biologist, she recalls. Why can’t she remember which one?

“When you return to your timeline, will you take me to the sea? I miss it.” Didi asks.

Five looks wistfully at her.

“When I go back, I’ll take you anywhere you want to.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. All-consumingly sincere. Didi pushed it down and focused on the sand in front of her. She wondered what it would be like to walk on the beach with him. Maybe even hold hands. Gross.

“What now?” Didi studied Five’s face as she asked. His features contorted under his glasses, worry and determination twisting. Five clenched his fists together tightly, eyebrows creasing, his whole body tightening. He stopped and took a breath. He clenched again. He stopped, panting now.

“Are you trying to take a shit?” Didi couldn’t help but ask. Five snapped his head to her.

“What?”

“You look like you’re constipated. Are you trying to take a shit?”

“You have shit for brains.”

“You got stuck in the apocalypse.”

Five gathered a fistful of sand and playfully threw it at Didi, careful to not get her face even though she was already wearing sunglasses.

“Dollface, I’m trying to blink.” Five replied, taking a sip of his water. Dollface. Affectionate. Literal. Sounds like a mobster. I’d like you to meet my little friend. “Now I know what causes the apocalypse, when I go back I can stop it. I know more about it, it should make it easier to blink back. Did it once, I’ll do it again.”

Five stood up and clenched his body again. Didi felt a change in the air, but nothing physically happened. It was just Five, hair and Hawaiian shirt blowing in the wind. His little sounds of grunting and panting, all his concentration focused on blinking to no avail.

Five sat on the edge of Didi’s lounger, crossing his legs underneath him to face her. He was a little sweaty, exhausted, but still hopeful.

“You look nice in this light. The sun is setting behind you, makes you look golden.”

“I bet you tell that to all the girls, Five.”

“Only the ones I’m stuck with, Dollface.”

“Do me a favour and throw some sand at yourself, please.”

And he did.

It became night quickly, and with the moon rising came the cold. Five had moved them inside the nearby lifeguard hut. He had tried the walkie-talkies “just in case” and signalled for help “on the off chance” but predictably, it was ineffective.

They sat near a fire Five had created just outside the hut. It crackled warmly, spreading a glow over the sand.

“Why are there so many bottles of milk on the wall? They’ll all go off.”

“They’re being sold, that’s why it goes from 99 bottles of milk on the wall down.”

“Why are they on the wall and not in the fridge? They’ll still go off.”

“Just sing it with me, please.”

Five sighed loudly, looking at the fire like he was tempted to throw himself in.

“Ok. Fine, let’s sing.”

“99 bottles of milk on the wall, 99 bottles of milk! Take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of milk on the wall!” They sang together in not-at-all-perfect harmony, Five being much slower than Didi as he tried to remember the words.

“98 bottles of milk-”

“Dolores. Why are they sharing the milk?” Five interrupted. “They’ll all get sick. Catch gastro, or something worse.”

“Shut up, Five! It’s just a song! A silly little campfire song.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry… I didn’t realise how much people drinking expired and contaminated milk meant to you.”

“Uh huh, so next time, show some appreciation.”

“Of course, Dollface. I’m so sorry.”

“Why do you call me that? It used to just be Doll. Now I have a face too.”

“It felt mafia-like.”

“That’s what I thought! Like Scarface.”

“… I don’t know what that is.”

“I’m going to make a list of all the movies you’re going to watch when you return to your timeline.”

“Monsters Inc. is first?”

“It’s a classic, you’ll love it. Monsters Inc, The Godfather. Uh, Shrek.”

“What’s Shrek?”

“It’s a movie about an ogre and a human falling in love. Like, that true beauty is on the inside, the right person will love you for who you are and your personality, not what you look like. And true love conquers all.

“And you’re kind of like an ogre.”

“Shut up, Five!”

They talked for most of the night. At some point, Five had laid them both down on their worn-out sleeping bag, stolen from a still-standing fishing shop. Five was careful to put distance between them, not wanting to make Didi uncomfortable, but holding tenderly onto her arm to keep her from falling flat onto her back. Glasses long ago ditched, Didi could fully see his animated expressions as he talked. He’d roll his eyes, scrunch his nose, scowl and immediately laugh when poking fun at anything.

It was the most alive Five had ever been. He was closer than ever to coming back home. Didi never wanted to see that light drain from his eyes.

They’d fallen asleep at some point, Didi on her back and Five’s arm thrown over her plastic arm. Didi was acutely aware of his fingers twitching against hers before she let slumber take her back to the real world.

Now flesh and blood, she held her own hand, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles.

Didi slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and her hair from her face.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” A voice said groggily from the floor. Startled slightly, Didi quickly remembered she had allowed Klaus to sleep on the floor of her room last night. Something about the ghosts being too loud and needing his “druggy buddy”.

“Klaus?”

“Mm?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Klaus blinked back slowly.

“You’re moving way too fast with me. I haven’t even had my morning cup of Kahlua.”

“Not you, asshat.”

Klaus slowly slapped his hands over his mouth, and Didi realised her mistake. The only people she’d ever seen in the past 1 or so years were the academy. There was only one conclusion to make to the outsider who didn’t know about her double life.

“Nooo. Didi, my brothers are all so gross. Unless it’s Allison, in which case you’ll have to fight Luther and you won’t win. You'll be dead. I don't know if I can stay sober for you.”

Didi threw a pillow at Klaus before moving off the bed to look at herself in the mirror.

“Forget I said anything. Get out, before someone sees you.”

“Same time tonight, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Love ya.”

Klaus left her room, dragging the bedding he’d brought in behind. Didi immediately moved to her desk and grabbed her notebook, a simple blue one with a single glitter stripe. She started making her list.

Movies to watch <3 :)

Monsters Inc.

Godfather (whole trilogy?)

Shrek

Pulp Fiction (what if he likes uma thurman too much)

Forrest Gump

Star Wars (the trilogy)

Batman (tim burton one)

An alarm sounded through the academy. She threw down her notebook and quickly got dressed in her mission gear.

As she stood out in the hallway with the rest of the academy, her mind began to wander.

Love is something really big. It’s a bit gross, too. Dunno know what it feels like.

Lying is pretty gross, too. She knows exactly what that feels like.

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2004.

Didi had turned into a mannequin fully exactly one time. Unlike her apocalypse counterpart, she had all her limbs and even the umbrella tattoo on her plastic arm. The plastic arm that was conveniently missing in the apocalypse.

Reginald had spiked her adrenaline levels so high and forced her to become a mannequin. He needed to know exactly what happened so he could develop some “anti-anxiety medicine” so it doesn’t happen on a mission, which Didi had come close to a few times. However, Didi knew Reginald always had a sinister agenda, hidden or not. Two orange pill bottles, one for anxiety and one for power progression stood tall next to the near-empty packet of ibuprofen. Didi quickly popped the ibuprofen, her joints and muscles already screaming from earlier training.

Didi had kept a little polaroid of her mannequin self in her notebook, now dubbed the apocalypse notebook. She’d written down all her information about Five, the apocalypse, and the events leading up to it. Now 16, one date drew nearer, making her grateful for the new meds.

Ben died when he was 17. No one seemed to know how.

Didi tried hard to force it out of her head. Maybe it wasn’t even true. What could she do? What would telling Ben do to the future?

“Hello? Earth to Didi!”

She remembered where she was. The present, not the future. Her biggest worry was supposed to be what colour dress to choose and what style best hides the bruises all over her body.

Allison looked at her curiously. Her dark curls were pinned up with a few falling out to frame her face. She looked stunning, a playful smile on her dark red lips, her full lashes batting.

“Thinking about someone, are we?” Allison twirled over to her, her ivory dress fanning out at her delicate heels.

Ben.

“What?” Didi asked quickly. Too quickly.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just rumor it out of you. I’m thinking of a jewel tone for you. How does your back look? Any marks?” Allison knew how to play her cards. She was cheeky, but Didi knew the threat of the rumour was real.

“I’ve got a scrape on my lower back. Why do you think I’m… thinking about someone?”

Allison pulled out a gorgeous blue velvet dress that could compare to the night sky. Soft accents of silver ran through the dress, sparkling under the light. Didi let out a quiet “wow” in amazement.

“Klaus told me.” Allison handed the dress to Didi. It felt soft but was way heavier than Didi expected. Didi ducked behind the elaborate room divider and began to change.

“And you believe him, Allison? I thought you were better than that.”

“I’m not above gossip. Even if it’s a rumor, I’ll make it come true.”

“I don’t think you can do that.”

A knock sounds from the door. Didi struggles to figure out how to put the damn thing on and leaves Allison to it.

“Ah! Speak of the devil.” Allison sings out. Klaus. Yippee.

“I came to help,” Klaus says, hopefully from the doorway.

“We don’t need your help, Klaus.”

“You do if you think that eyeshadow is doing you any favors. Ever heard of color theory?”

“Ever heard of a hairbrush?”

“Ever heard of not making out with your brother?”

“Ever heard of not being a drug addict?”

Didi stepped out from behind the divider, dressed in the blue beauty. She went quickly to the mirror, eager to see what she looked like. It had a corset thing at the front, an asymmetrical neckline that popped higher over one shoulder than the other. It had a tight waist where the material gathered a little to cascade down beautifully. It even covered the scrape on her back. The marks on her arms could be covered by gloves. She looked grown up. Stunning. Like a Hargreeves.

“Woah, hottie alert!” Klaus sighed, fanning himself and trying to whistle.

“You can’t whistle?” Didi asked.

“No.”

“Forget about that! Didi, you look absolutely gorgeous. You’re going to make someone very happy tonight.” Allison fawned over Didi, pushing her down into her vanity chair and prepping her makeup station.

Allison and Klaus continued to argue as they both tried to do Didi’s makeup. Didi wasn’t opposed to makeup, but it wasn’t the most practical thing in combat, and it would often disappear if she shifted. She trusted Klaus and Allison knew what they were doing, though.

“There. Done.” Allison finished, popping the cap back on the nude lipstick.

“Stunning. We already knew that, but now you're ‘gala ready’ stunning.” Klaus added. He reached over and stole a stick of liquid eyeliner before carefully lining his eyes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Allison cried, snatching the liner causing Klaus to smudge it on his face.

“You fucker! Get me the remover.”

“Remove yourself, bitch.”

Klaus stormed off in a huff, muttering something about a spoiled brat under his breath. Allison took a deep breath to compose herself.

“Siblings.” She said. “Can’t live with them.”

She sprayed some hairspray around both of them with no warning, and Didi fell into a coughing fit. Allison rolled her eyes and selected some dainty jewellery to go with her dress.

“I think tonight is the night.” Allison thinks out loud, checking her teeth for lipstick.

“Night for what?” Didi questions, doing the same. It was hard to take her own eyes off herself. She wondered what Five would think if he saw her now. Probably hate her for hiding her identity. Would he do that? Didi had never thought about it like that till now. Ignore, please. 

“Night for… you know.”

“Know what?”

Allison turned to Didi, holding her hands. Allison opened her mouth a few times to try and say something, but she was stuck.

“The… the thing.”

“What thing?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what, Allison?”

“Ugh, I don’t want to explain it. It’s embarrassing.”

“If you can’t talk about it, maybe you’re not ready for it. Whatever it is.”

“I heard a rumor you know what I’m talking about.”

Images Didi would rather forget flashed through her mind. She remembered something like this being talked about in health class when she was 12, but this side of health was not explored in the academy curriculum.

“Oh, my God,” Didi said, mind reeling. “Tonight?”

Allison nodded, holding in a smile. Didi was at a bit of a loss as to what to say. Over the 2 years or so she’d been here, she’d come to understand the situation between Allison and Luther similar to that of Flowers in the Attic minus the biological relationship. Trapped with no one else to relate to, it shouldn’t have been so surprising. Oh, shit, that sounds familiar. IGNORE. 

Didi wanted to be happy for them, but it felt weird. Maybe they’re too young, they’re raised like family, maybe it was jealousy that they could even touch one another and feel it.

“Are you… ready?” Didi questioned. Allison flung herself from her chair and spun around the bedroom before landing in front of the mirror.

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Don’t you think you’re a bit young?”

“This is the age people are in movies. Lindsay Lohan was 13.”

“You know Lindsay Lohan?”

“Duh.”

Didi processed the revelations.

“I’m not saying you should do anything, Didi. Luther and I have been together for a while.” Allison reassured. Didi wasn’t thinking of doing anything anyway, but it was nice to hear Allison say that.

“Speaking of, could you go get Luther?” She asked, smoothing down the front of her dress. Allison had the same streak of vanity Didi had. Well, Didi’s was a streak – Allison’s was a parade.

“What? You’re going to do it right now?” Didi panicked.

“No, stupid! I’m going to be romantic. A little teaser.”

“Oh. Ok.”

Didi quickly strapped on some of Allison's heels and staggered elegantly to Luther’s room. It took a while for her to get her balance, but she didn’t want to embarrass the academy or Reginald, shooting pain in her feet be damned.

Didi knocked on Luther’s door. It swung open from her force, revealing a scared Luther with a rolled-up sleeve, an undone bowtie, and a- Didi gasped loudly.

“Is that a syringe?!” Didi whisper yelled.

Luther put the needle down and pulled Didi into his room, slamming the door.

“You didn’t see anything.” He threateningly pleaded. It wasn’t effective.

“Nice try, Luther. You had a needle in your arm. What is that?” Didi pointed to the culprit lying on Luther’s desk. Luther sighed and sat down on his bed. It creaked a little under his strength.

“You shift into me a lot during training.” He begins. Didi perches herself hesitantly next to Luther on the bed, listening. “And you look… weak.”

“So, what, you’re doing steroids?” Didi asks gently. “Luther, that can’t be the best course of action. You’re already so strong.”

“Exactly. I want to look as strong as I am. Fucking Diego looks stronger than me! When you shift into me, all I see is a weak little boy.” Luther sighs, running his hand through his hair. Didi reaches out and rubs his arm in assurance. “It kills me, it makes me feel worthless. Diego can lift more than you when you’re me. I’m… pathetic.”

“Luther, you’re not.”

“I just want to look as strong as I am. For me, for Allison. For Dad. Please, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to disappoint Dad.”

Didi promised she wouldn’t. A wave of hatred washed over her for Reginald. But she understood – she wanted to impress him. She hated the power he had over all of them. Like a ringleader to their pitiful clown and monkey act.

Didi didn’t tell Luther to go meet Allison. Didi forgot. She mindlessly walked around the academy until it was time to leave. Ben found her staring at the oil painting of Five before pulling her away.

They travelled in fancy cars to the gala, held at one of Reginald’s rich friends’ places. Not as rich as Reginald, of course. It served as a public moment for the academy, as well as Didi’s official introduction to the world as Dolores Hargreeves. She hated it, branded with Reginald’s name by law. However, she couldn’t recall the last time she felt like an Albert. At least she belonged somewhere now. Her anxiety about the event started to creep in, gnawing at her gut and closing her throat. Thanks to the medicine, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Breathe.

The mansion was gorgeous. Didi made a mental note to ask Five to take her to it in the apocalypse, to see if it was still standing. The setting sun painted pink and yellow hues behind the mansion, the place itself glimmering with lights and spiralling with plants.

The inside was nothing to scoff at, either. Crystal chandeliers, rich leather furniture, an ivory piano and an expansive dance floor greeted the academy as they made their way inside. A bar lit up at the back, rows of expensive food and silken white tablecloths over oak tables.

Klaus and Allison immediately made a beeline to the bar. Viktor made his way to stand near the piano, taking a glass of champagne offered. Ben and Luther excused themselves to look at the food spread. Diego stood by Didi’s side, planning exit strategies and safe routes.

“Number 8.” Reginald appeared behind the pair. “Come with me.”

He practically marched off and Didi had to hike up her dress slightly as she stumbled, trying to keep up with his pace. He led her into a hallway just off the main area.

“I am presenting you to the world tonight, not as Number 8, but as a Hargreeves. Do you understand?” He asked. Didi hoped for a hint of pride, but it was the cold delivery she’d come to expect from Reginald. She doesn’t know why it would be any different.

“Yes, I understand.”

“I require you to not shift tonight. Have you taken your medicine?”

“Yes, sir.” Didi thinks this may be the first time Reginald has ever asked something about her own well-being. She hates that it makes her happy, feel cared for. 

“When I introduce you, you will come forward and curtsey. There is a speech prepared for you on the podium. Recite it. And then you will leave. Understood, Number 8?”

“Yes, sir.”

A chime from a glass rings through the main area and into the hallway.

“That is our cue.” Reginald states, waltzing off to listen. The man speaking, the host, drones on about the charity they’re raising money for. Cure for something, probably. Didi doesn’t listen. It isn’t until the host introduces Reginald that she looks alive. Although no Allison, she has done a few interviews as Number 8 and her performances from her youth prepared her for pleasing and connecting with the crowd.

Reginald stands behind the podium, his golden monocle catching the light.

“It is my great pleasure to formally introduce Number 8. Please welcome Dolores Hargreeves.”

The name brought a sour and metallic taste to her mouth. Didi realised she was biting the inside of her cheek too hard, drawing blood. Whoops. The name didn’t sound right, but it was better than holding onto a forgotten memory of what once was, of who she used to be.

Didi walks forward and curtsies. She waves gracefully to the crowd, taking small steps to be able to walk properly. Sure enough, a speech was written out for her, Grace’s handwriting on the small white piece of paper.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you for being here today, and for a fantastic cause!” Didi began. Her eyes searched for the other academy members. They were all seated around a table in the back, even Viktor, and were giving her thumbs up from across the room. Luther still looked sullen. Didi smiled widely and continued.

“I was one of 43 children born on the 1^st of October, 1989. I was not one of the original 7 children adopted, but I am grateful to have the honour of being an Umbrella Academy member today. I am grateful to Reginald,” Didi swept a hand over to him. “For seeing my potential and training me into the hero I am today so I can work to protect and serve you wonderful citizens.” Didi kept her painted smile on her face, forcing a small laugh out to make her eyes look alive.

“Although you applaud me, I applaud you. For without you, I would have nothing to fight for. Thank you.” Didi finished, waving out to the audience before bowing out and walking away with a pep in her step. The crowd clapped, the academy clapping the loudest, but knowing if they were any louder Reginald would have words. Didi walked past Reginald as she tried to make her way back to the table with the other kids.

“Fine work, Number 8. I will schedule you more interviews if you keep that presence up.” Reginald said quietly, still no pride but a note of contentment in his voice. He was called over by someone at another table, leaving Didi free to make her way back.

“Alright, brown-noser!” Klaus said as soon as Didi sat down.

“Better than powder-nose.” Didi retorted.

“Mm, I don’t know about that one.” Klaus turned to the rest of the group. “Would you rather kiss-up to Dad or get high and have fun?”

They all tried to shush Klaus, worried about the attention he would bring. Guests at surrounding tables looked over to see what all the fuss was about. The group whispered a sorry.

“Dad would probably want us to make an appearance. Dance, mingle, amaze.” Luther was already getting up, loudly scraping his chair against the floor. He offered a hand out to Allison who gleefully took it. Allison shot Didi a wink and tapped her nose. She mouthed “rumor” as a reminder of her threat from earlier. As they danced, Allison laughed and took hold of Luthor’s shoulders. That pang of weirdness fluttered in her stomach again.

Klaus nudged Didi playfully in her arm.

“See anyone you like? Everyone’s rich here, money marries money.” He drawled out, words slightly slurred from the alcohol mixing with whatever drugs he was on. Didi didn’t need to look around the room to know there was no one of interest.

“No, I’m good.” She muttered.

“Come on, Dolores, you’re kind of the woman of the hour. Take anyone to dance with you – you’ll make them the happiest person on earth.” Klaus continued to pester. Didi rolled her eyes feeling exasperated.

“I’ll d-dance with you,” Diego interjected. “If it means getting K…laus off your back.”

“And get Didi on hers?” Klaus accused jokingly. “Ok, smooth criminal. You kids go have fun.”

Didi felt if she rolled her eyes one more time they’d fall back into her head. She led Diego to the floor as the piano changed to something more upbeat.

“You sure you can keep up?” Didi asked as she reached out to place Diego’s hands on her waist. Diego was too quick and swept Didi up in his arms. He held her in a classic tango position, not quite in line with the music but Didi didn’t want to argue that.

“Can you keep up with me?” Diego responded, his stutter gone. He had the same confidence he would in training or on a mission, making Didi feel somewhat like prey.

Some dancers on the floor left, leaving much more room for Diego and Didi. As the beat picked up, Diego led her across the room, swerving skilfully between other couples.

“I had no idea you could dance!” Didi exclaimed.

Diego spun her around and held her tightly. He leaned down to her ear, his warm breath fanning on her neck.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

He spun her again before leading her through the dance. They glided together, captivating the guests around them. It was just the two of them on the floor for the final beat, where Diego dipped Didi low, a smug look tainting his features. He pulled her up, still extremely close. Didi could smell whatever cologne he had used for the event. She wouldn’t have minded a drink right about now. The music changed back into a simple slow dance rhythm. 

Diego leaves her there, stunned. He grabs a glass of champagne and holds it up to her in a cheers movement. Didi had become highly athletic due to all the training, but she was out of breath right now. Couples returned to their dancing.

“Diego, huh? Is it the Bruce Wayne or the Batman that intrigues you?” Klaus asked from behind, pulling her into a respectable slow dance position. Didi fiddles with her ring as her hands hang from behind Klaus’ neck. She led them in a classic two-step.

She didn’t feel anything like that for Diego. He was smart and sure, cute, and the dancing surprised her, but she didn’t feel anything romantic. However, admitting to having feelings for Diego was better than admitting the alternative. There were worst fake crushes to have.

“I like how calculating he is,” Didi mumbled.

“Yeah? You would’ve loved Five. Fucker never stopped thinking. Luther tries to be Number 1, but Five always ended up on top.”

“Sounds like a good guy.”

“Good? He was cynical. Enough about my dead brother, please. More about the living one!” Klaus laughed, moving a little faster.

Didi had danced till her feet were swollen. Now, it was just her heart and her eyes that swelled.

Later that night, she found herself staring at that goddamn painting again, glaring at Five’s piercing eyes as tears ran down her face. She angrily rubbed them away with the sleeve of her silk pyjamas.

“It’s not fair.” She whispered to herself.

A torch made its way down the stairs and into the lounge room. Didi quickly ducked behind a couch, holding her breath and sobs. She hiccupped loudly and slapped her hands over her mouth. The torch swung over her way, illuminating her in its harsh light.

“Didi?” The voice behind it asked. “What are you doing up? Are you… ok?”

It was Viktor. Didi let out a sigh of relief followed by another hiccup.

“Hey, Viktor.”

“Are you crying?”

Didi shrugged and another sob ripped through her. Time to lie. A half-lie, really. She was upset about Five, after all. No one needs to know the specifics. 

“It’s so stupid, I never even met him. But thinking about Five, I just…” She cried out.

“Five? You care about him?” Viktor questioned, pulling Didi through the dining room and down the stairs into the kitchen.

“He’s all alone.”

“Five wanted to time travel. When he didn’t come back, I assumed he travelled to the past. Living out his best life in the 60’s.”

“What if he’s stuck in the future, when the world is destroyed, with only inanimate objects to keep him company?”

Viktor stared at Didi in worry. He sat her down at the kitchen bench and began to pull out ingredients from the fridge and cupboard, still eyeing her.

“Like Castaways,” Didi added. She wiped her tears away again.

“I haven’t seen that.”

“Geez, do any of you guys watch movies?”

“We’ve seen Casablanca a few times. Some Singing in the Rain.”

“Huh.” Didi sniffled.

“I think about Five too. When he first disappeared… it’s stupid, but I used to make these sandwiches for him. He loved them. Peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches. I’d leave the lights on for him too, so he didn’t have to come home to darkness. Or come see me on an empty stomach.”

“You don’t anymore?”

“I don’t think he’s coming home, Didi.”

Viktor grabbed two slices of bread and spread the peanut butter on it.

“Maybe once more for good luck,” Viktor added the marshmallows and slapped the slices together. “Want some?”

Didi nodded and Viktor sliced the sandwich in half. Didi took a small bite and immediately spat it out. It landed on the counter with a splat. Didi ran to the sink to wash the taste out of her mouth. She stood there for a moment, lapping at the water like a dog, crying for a whole new reason.

Didi turned off the tap and straightened herself up. Her sleeves and the front of her pyjamas were soaked.  

“I do not like that sandwich.” She said quietly.

Viktor laughed. He checked expiration dates, but it was just Didi’s taste buds. Didi slunk back into her chair. She allowed herself a laugh too, an interval between sniffles.

“I have to talk to someone about this who isn’t going to make fun of them.” She announced.

“What’s happened?" Viktor asked. He took a bite of his sandwich, eating it like a normal person. Showoff.

“Allison and Luther.”

“Yeah? They’re together, did you not know that?”

“No, I did! But... they’re doing it tonight.”

Viktor eyes widened. She felt a little peeved that Viktor had got it straight away but it took a rumour for Didi to get it.

“Really?”

“Really. Thoughts?”

“Super-powered babies.”

They snickered quietly. Didi was half happy that Viktor didn’t have an opinion. Meant she shouldn’t have one either. Not her monkey, not her circus.

Viktor went quiet, staring at his half of the vile sandwich.

“I have anxiety too. If you need someone to talk to, or you want some stronger medicine, I’m... happy to help.” He says softly, as if afraid to admit it. Didi leaned over the counter and held his hand. His head snapped up, Viktor’s eyes searching suspiciously for signs of malice.

“I’m sorry I never took the time to get to know you. That wasn’t fair on you.”

“Thank you.” Viktor choked out.

“Could you tell me any more about Five?” Didi asked earnestly.

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2021.

A stark contrast would appear if a comparison was made between Five's oil painting before he disappeared and the apocalyptic 16-year-old Five of today.

Five’s coffee-brown hair had adopted an oily high ponytail hidden with a wide-brimmed hat because Dolores kept making fun of him for it. His chin sported patchy stubble, and Five was determined to keep it that way. Dolores teased that it was because he didn’t know how to shave, but Five countered that there was no point. He wanted to see if he could grow better facial hair than his father’s prominent handlebar moustache. He would be taken aback when he caught a glance of himself in broken mirrors. With no cover on his face, he looked scruffy. Almost rugged.

His face was normally covered in dirt he never washed off properly because he didn’t want to waste what little water resources he had.  But with the weather cooling down now, every time Five opened a new case of bottled water he’d give himself a quick wash alongside some baby wipes.

They kept travelling around. A cold breeze blew around, but that didn’t deter Five. They camped out in shopping centres mainly, wrapping themselves up in stolen bedding and raiding grocery stores. Dolores had begged to be taken to the clothing stores whose entrances weren’t covered in rubble as she wanted a new top or two (or if she was anything like Allison, 45.)

“Pleaseee!” Dolores carried on from the wheelbarrow. “You have nothing better to do.”

“I have a timeline to return to.”

“And I want to look cute when we go back!”

“You do!”

Five haltered.

“I mean, the top looks cute. I don’t know much about fashion. The polka dots are very retro.” He covered quickly. He continued to push the wheelbarrow, weaving through debris and the corpses buried underneath. The smell once made him sick, but he’d overcome it.

“I’d like something shiny. Sparkly.” Dolores continued.

“Something that grabs attention?”

“Attention? From who? This isn’t a covert mission, Five.”

Everything felt like a mission to Five. Instead of fighting criminals, he was fighting his insanity creeping in. He could never let himself relax, despite the lack of any actual danger. The apocalypse had already happened – what’s the worst that could now happen? Five didn’t want to find out.

“You need new clothes, too,” Dolores commented. It was obvious Five was having some growth spurts and no longer fit comfortably into the pants he stole only a few months ago. “Having your ankles out like that will lead you open to swift attacks.”

“Don’t pretend like you know anything about self-defence, Dollface.” Five pulled the wheelbarrow into a sportswear store, allowing himself a little chuckle at the store's name that hung above the entrance in loose letters.

“Heh, Dicks.” Dolores giggled, a cheeky smile on her stiff lips.

“Dicks. God, that’s so juvenile.” Five sighed before leaving the wheelbarrow behind to venture further into the store.

“I hope you’re not just leaving me here,” Dolores exclaimed. Five circled back and rolled his eyes at her.

“You’re such a princess.” He muttered before scooping her up and holding her around her waist. He pulled her arm out so she could run her plastic fingers across the fabrics, trying to give her some semblance of normality despite the apocalyptic circumstances.

Five drummed his thumb against Dolores’ side mindlessly as he scanned the isles looking for something breathable and that he could easily run in. If Dolores ever got stuck on a piece of clothing, he’d hold her hand and remove her. He thought about knocking her into the clothing racks to annoy her, but he didn’t want Dolores to think he was doing it on purpose to be able to hold her hand more.

In the back of the store, he saw that dreaded fucking umbrella printed on a blue background. Five panicked for a moment, wondering how his father found him, before realising it was just a poster. As he moved closer to it, he could make out the two figures proudly showing off their athleisure line. His heart ran rampant in his chest.

From when you need to go from 1 to 8.

Under the slogan stood Luther and who he had to assume was Didi. They were smiling, Luther lifting up Didi like she weighed nothing, much like how Five held Dolores. Luther was showing off his muscular biceps, and Didi had her legs stretched and pointed to accentuate her calves in their gym gear. Sellouts.

The Ape and The Chameleon – 30% today!

It was the first time Five had seen any images of his family apart from Viktor’s book he carried around in the wheelbarrow. He imagined Luther’s smile was for him, welcoming him back home. They both looked young on the poster, if Five had to guess he’d say 20. He knew Luther never left the academy but seeing him stand as a “family” with the only person in the academy Five never met stung him. Where was the rest of his family? Why didn’t Luther leave, like the others? What happened when he left?

Tears started to prickle behind his eyes. He stared at the ceiling, trying to avoid Dolores’ worried gaze.

The world moved on around him. His family lived their lives. And now they’re dead.

Five rubbed his eyes with his free hand and took a deep breath. Willed the feelings away. He could be emotional when he saw his brother again. He’d let everyone know he loved them.

“Least I know what Didi looks like, now.” Five said. He didn’t think she was anything special, with a smile that never reached her eyes and her strained body. She looked sad and tired but had the attributes Reginald had drilled into the more marketable members of the academy. Poised and graceful. Like Luther, she was done up professionally, with any blemishes or marks covered. But the umbrella tattoo stood out bright against her skin, taunting him with a life he could have had. If his pride wasn’t such a bitter pill to swallow.

“So grown up,” Dolores mumbled next to him. “Where’s the rest of your family?”

“They left the academy. Clearly before whatever marketing scheme this is.” Five began riffling through The Ape and The Chameleon line. If it was good enough for his brother, it was good enough for him. And the $200 price tag looked good with his five-finger discount. “Weird that a store would still use an advertisement from around 10 years ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Also, that’s not what chameleons do.”

“Huh?”

“Luther is the ape. He’s strong. She shapeshifts, whatever. A chameleon blends into the background, not change their characteristics to look like a different chameleon.”

“Didn’t realise you were so protective over chameleons.”

“I’m not, I’m just saying if you’re going to have a superhero name, make it a plausible one.”

Five settled on slim long-sleeve black shirt and some black joggers that boasted mobility and sweat resistance. It would be fine underneath his camo jacket he stole a while back.

“Could I grab something?” Dolores asked with hesitancy in her voice.

“I thought you were joking before.”

“I was, but now I’m not. I... I don't know, I'd like to be close to your family.”

Five didn’t want to say no, but he couldn’t think about it logistically.

“How are you going to change?” He asked. Five didn’t want to disappoint Dolores, but there was no way around it. He whipped some clothes off their hangers and made a makeshift bed on the floor for Dolores to lie on as he went into the changing room. The mirror in the changing room cubicle had one large crack on it, running straight through the middle. Five pulled out the elastic from his hair and fixed it up in the mirror. It was greasy and slick, sticking to his skin tightly. He couldn’t blame Dolores; he’d make fun of it too. He checked his teeth for any issues and made sure his eyes were ok. Wouldn't hurt to wash this hair every once in a while. 

“You could close your eyes?” Dolores called out.

Five made an exasperated face to himself in the mirror. He thought about the pros and cons as he got changed.

Side A: She was a mannequin. Side B: Five hadn’t thought about that for months.

Side A: She doesn’t seem to care. Side B: Five doesn’t want to do anything to affect his only companion in the apocalypse.

Side A: She’d probably want something hard to get on. Side B: Hard to get on means tight fitting.

Side A: She’d be happy. Side B: If she’s happy, he’s happy. And she wanted to get closer to his family.

He ditched the old clothes and stepped out in a proper fitting, albeit a bit dusty, outfit. He studied Dolores who in turn was studying him. He shrugged on his camo jacket and sighed again.

“Fine. Nothing bright.”

“The black tank, please.”

“What size are you?”

“Mannequin size.”

 He took the tank off the hanger and held it in his hands. Five avoided eye contact, desperately trying to dispel any uncouth thoughts. He gently pulled her arms above her head. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. His stomach was twirling around.

He delicately pulled the white blouse off, keeping his eyes firmly trained on a banner on the far wall. He could see her torso in his peripheral vision. He stared at the spot on the wall harder.

Five wriggled the tank top down her arms and chest. He tugged on the bottom of it to make sure it sat right. He slowly pulled his hands back and tried to control the tingling sensation in his fingertips. He could feel his chest tightening and realised he wasn’t breathing.

“Comfortable?” Five choked out. That spot on the wall was looking really good now.

“It’s on,” Dolores replied. She sounded sincere, but her voice was tinged with worry. Five hated that he made he worried. He hated he felt anything at all.

Five turned himself back to Dolores. She smiled warmly at him. Five couldn’t recall anyone smiling at him like that. Like he wasn’t a nuisance, wasn’t a threat, like they were happy to see him. But here she was, practically beaming at him.

“Thank you.” She said softly.

His eyes travelled down her now bare arm, a little bit melted at the elbow with some scuffs on the surface. She had deep black marks that stood out on her left shoulder.

Five wasn’t even thinking when he ran his thumb over the marks. 5 stars, scattered just below her collarbone, dipping down over her heart. Lines that would have been scars on flesh. Combined, it looked like the night sky, shooting stars at midnight.

Dolores stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes until Five remembered himself. He snatched his hand away like she was made of fire, holding the offending appendage tightly. Five felt boiling blood rush through his entire body. He couldn’t place if it was embarrassment or guilt that made his stomach flop. He watched Dolores closely, searching for a hint of disgust at his actions.

“What is it?” She asked quietly. Five felt like he was in a trance, his mind uncharacteristically foggy with lead limbs.

“You, uh, you have marks. Black.”

Five was acutely aware of how close they were.

“On my shoulder?”

Dolores kept his eye contact.

“On your shoulder.”

Five didn’t pull away. He should have.

BANG!

Five sprung away from Dolores and ran to the wheelbarrow. He ripped out his riffle and crept to where the noise came from, zoning in to control his breathing and heart.

A section of the ceiling had fallen through. It hit the ground and made way for the hundreds of cockroaches that were crawling around the ceiling. Five cocked the gun and started shooting at them. He knew it was in vain, and was fully aware of the bullets being wasted, but he needed an outlet for whatever the fuck just happened.  A few cockroaches lay dead before him. He squelched them under his foot for good measure.

“It’s fine, just the building falling apart. We should go now.” Five called out to Dolores. He returned, placing her and the gun back into the wheelbarrow and set off to find an exit.

They didn’t talk much on their walk back home. Five quietly cooked a can of soup for dinner, sitting by the flickering fire. He had Dolores next to him in the wheelbarrow, not daring to break the silence that had enveloped them. He didn’t want to leave her, but he needed time to think.

Five knew Dolores wanted to talk, he could feel the nervous energy radiating from her. It infected him and made him bounce his knee. They ate in silence. It wasn’t the comfortable one they often had. It was prickly, hot, and sickening.

“I’m sorry,” Five spoke first. “I know what to do in every situation. Except that.”

“Except that.” Dolores copied.

She was unreadable. Five looked her over, his methodical eyes scanning for anything, good or bad, but nothing. She sat completely still as looked at the fire. Was she disappointed? Did she have a right to be?

Five began to wonder if he only wanted to keep her happy because she was his only source of companionship, the only thing stopping him from losing his mind. That didn’t seem fair to him. But he knew it was more than that. Dolores kept Five sane, and Five was willing to stay sane for Dolores. His adolescent brain was so overrun with figures and equations he barely had time to process anything, let alone how Dolores made him feel. Did he have a right to feel?

Guilt clenched at his stomach again. It strung its wretched hands around his heart and up his throat, holding him hostage. He stared at the stars below her collarbone. 5 of them. He wanted to know if there were more. The guilt reached his brain and stopped him from forming the thought that if there were 5 stars, it meant something more. Fate.

“Weird. That’s the Big Dipper,” Dolores nodded to the sky. “Should be visible in Australia only.”

“Damn apocalypse.”

“That’s the Northern Cross, a little over. Over there is the Cassiopeia.”

“You like constellations?”

“Liked them a lot more when there was a moon.”

“I’ve never heard of the Cassiopeia.”

“Greek constellation. W shape, 5 stars.”

Fate.

Dolores looked elegantly lethal in the glow of the fire. Guilt seized him tighter. Five wasn’t superstitious. Five didn’t need fate – he needed to get out of the apocalypse. That was going to be far easier with a friend than with… anyone else.

Five was sure Dolores would understand. Dolores had already clicked so well with him that he was positive she’d be on the same page. Five killed the fire and brought his belongings back inside. He gingerly took Dolores to lie down, consciously putting space between them for the first time in months.

The guilt never stopped wrecking his body, no matter how hard he tried to tell himself it was fine.

Emotionally stunted boys do not believe in fate.

Chapter Text

Christmas Special, Part 1

When Didi was 4, she wanted a new Barbie.

When Didi was 8, she wanted some books.

When Didi was 12, she wanted the new pop CD.

When Didi was 15, she wanted her family back.

Never had she wanted her body to be younger than her mind.

But Didi Hargreeves had always had an unpredictable life.

Umbrella Academy, 2004.

“You have the body of someone who is 16 years, 1 month and 2 days old.”

Pogo pulled the needle out of Didi’s inner elbow. It slid out with little pain, and a few drops of blood formed from the prick. Grace was quick to secure the cotton ball with a band-aid on her inner elbow. Didi began to feel a little lightheaded.

“You have the brain of someone who is 16 years, 1 month, and 23 days old.”

Reginald stood at the foot of the hospital bed Didi lay on. He read the results on the screen that beeped obnoxiously next to her. Didi waited for someone to say something, feeling drained from the tests. She rolled her head to look at Pogo, who gave her a small smile. His eyes worried her, full of concern and regret.

“Interesting,” Reginald said. His voice sickened Didi. He sounded so intrigued and delighted by the news. She didn’t know what the news even meant, but she knew he shouldn’t be happy about it. But Didi didn’t dare say anything. She was already close to the operating table. Reginald wasn’t above a human anatomy lesson for the academy where Didi is the model. He’d done it before.

“Sir, 21 days difference might seem minimal now, but if she continues down this track it can lead to dire consequences,” Pogo explained to Reginald. “She could continue to shave precious time off her life.”

“Which she will do for the good of the academy. For the world. How much blood did you take?”

“2 Liters, Sir, over 4 transformations.”

“Number 8 is not fainting.”

“No, Sir.”

Reginald finally addressed Didi. She held out hope he’d be done, or at least be proud of her for not passing out.

“Number 8, shift into your form from 2 hours ago again. Pogo will take more blood from you for further testing.”

“Master, we have enough. Please give her a break.”

“She won’t need a break if she shifts.”

“Miss Dolores can’t shift if she doesn’t get a break.”

Reginald pauses for a moment. Didi dopily smiles thanks to Pogo before rolling her head back. She felt light as a feather, no longer grounded. Like being high, but all she smelt was sterile hospital equipment and a bitter metallic smell rather than the pungent aroma of weed.

“Very well. Send her back to the other children.” Reginald ordered out before leaving the infirmary. His footsteps echoed loudly against the cold tiled floor. No longer on edge from his presence, Didi began to relax and slipped into unconsciousness.

Her body was 21 days younger than her mind. That’s only three weeks. Whenever she reset her body because of injuries caused by the academy or missions, she stopped aging for three weeks. Didi couldn’t tell if that was cool or immensely terrifying. She briefly wondered if this was something she capitalised on in the future, just like the sports apparel brand with Luther. Selling skin care, hair products, whatever gets her money. She felt disappointed in her future self if that was the case.

When Didi came to and opened her groggy eyes, she hoped to be met with Five, quietly muttering as he took her on their next exploration, or defacing another wall with his equations written in a Fluro green sharpie splattered in blood. If not to laugh or exchange ideas and solutions, then just to talk. Ever since that moment in the mall, she’d had a sour taste in her mouth. Didi was so sure Five was going to do something, anything, perhaps even sweep her off her feet, but he’d avoided any talk about it like the plague. And instead of confronting him, she blabbed on about stupid fucking constellations. Now whenever she looked at the sky, she felt sick. Didi needed to ease up on the romantic comedies she’d sneak out to watch with Allison and Ben.

But instead of Five, it was the academy crowded around her bed. There was an air of excitement amongst them as they chattered. Klaus was draping tinsel over himself and Ben, Diego and Luther were fighting over a Santa hat, Allison was ripping up pieces of paper and Viktor was waiting for Didi to wake up.

“Didi!” Viktor announced. “She’s awake!”

Allison pushed herself to the front, not caring that she smashed Diego’s foot with her small heel. Diego let out a small cry of pain and Luther ripped the Santa hat from him triumphantly.

Christmas already?

“Hey, Dee. How are you?” Allison asked sincerely. Didi had learned to know the difference between her sticky-sweet persona and one that meant well.

“Not too hot. What are you all doing here?” Didi reached for the glass of water Pogo or Grace had left on the bedside table. Her throat ached and her voice came out raspy.

Allison took Luther's hat off and smiled lovingly at him. Didi noticed his cheeks flush red ever so slightly. Didi turned her head to face Viktor as best she could, raising her eyebrows and snickering with him. Allison placed the ripped-up pieces of paper into the hat and shook it around.

“Secret Santa!” She sang out melodically. Klaus jumped up and down excitedly, bumping into Ben whose complaints were met with a shush from Luther.

Allison handed the hat around to each member of the academy. As they all pulled out different names, their faces were uncharacteristically expressive, groans and delighted smiles appearing. Allison handed the hat to Didi and she reached for the last name in the there.

Most likely to be a hopeless romantic.

“I don’t have a name,” Didi queried. What if that was the point? “Oh, shit, did I ruin it?”

“No, it’s part of the mystery. I came up with most likely to’s and you have to guess who it relates to and then get a present for them.” Allison laughed as if amazed by her own genius. Didi did love a good puzzle. “Remember, everyone, it’s the thought that counts. No price limit, whatever you can steal successfully. You can communicate with your person by slipping notes under their door. You can reply to a note slipped under your door by verbally telling everyone the answer or leaving another note under your door. Any questions?”

“Yeah, who has me?” Klaus cheekily asked. He was met with the academy telling him to shut up as they shuffled out of the room. Klaus draped the tinsel around Didi before everyone left to give her some rest.

Apocalypse, 2021.

Didi struggled to get to sleep that night. She was preparing for another day of radio silence from Five as they ventured further into the apocalyptic wasteland. She wondered what would happen if she didn’t fall asleep. The time zones didn’t perfectly match up, what should have been 8 hours of sleep always equalled around 16 hours of apocalypse. Would the apocalypse day happen if she didn’t fall asleep? As much as her mind protested, and despite her body being fully rested from the blood tests/donations, her heart’s need to see Five won in the end and she felt herself tumbling towards her plastic body.

Five was still asleep. His hair was pushed to the side and slicked in a knotty mess. His limbs fell haphazardly underneath the thick blanket, his hand curled tightly around her wrist, twitching slightly. Didi herself was lain with care under the blankets, however, she recalled Five had gone to sleep much further away than he was now.  

Didi wished that the rest of the academy could see Five now. It wasn’t fair that they had to presume he was dead, and Didi got to live with him, but if those were the cards that were dealt Didi was going to play with her hand close to her chest and her heart on her sleeve.

She was sick of the silence. But while he was asleep, it was ok.

He murmured something before grinding his teeth sharply. If Five ever made it out of the apocalypse, Didi would spring for the night guard he no doubt needed. He kicked his feet before shuffling closer to Didi, still murmuring. Didi strained to hear what he was saying if nothing else but an attempt to distract herself from how close Five was now. His head was practically resting on her arm, no doubt uncomfortable but still sending butterflies to her stomach.

“Acorn,” was all he muttered. “Acorn. Ice.”

Didi didn’t understand it. Five rolled suddenly off Didi and hit his head on the pillar they had camped close by. He groaned and slowly sat up, holding his head in his hands as he blinked his eyes rapidly. Didi missed camping in houses, but Five felt like he was getting too comfortable and needed to keep exploring if they wanted answers. Wouldn’t have a concussion if we stayed in our house.

“Good morning, Five.” Didi welcomed.

“Don’t sound so chipper.” Five grumpily responded. Didi noticed the light stream of blood as Five removed his hands to assess the damage.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Sky’s blue.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Didi rolled her eyes as best she could. Five sucked in a breath as he prodded the wound.

“Stop touching it, Skeeze. You’ll infect it with your grubby hands.”

“Yes, Dollface, sorry that I don’t have running water.”

“Get the first aid kit.”

Five grumbled as he slowly reached for the wheelbarrow and pulled out the bright red first aid kit. It sprung open with burn kits, Band-Aids, cleaning wipes, expired saline, and everything else you could need for a minor medical emergency.

“Clean it first. I’m not dealing with you when you have some sort of parasite.”

“You are a parasite, Dollface.”

But he still listened and gently cleaned the wound. He acted like it was pain-free, but his jaw was tenser than usual.

“Band-Aid.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.”

Five peeled open a band-aid and smoothed it over the wound. He packed up the kit and popped it back in the wheelbarrow before lying back in the blanket.

“My mom used to do all the first aid care for us. One time I got grazed by one of Diego’s knives, right on the thigh. Classed as a minor cut, I was out of commission for a day.”

I got stabbed by Diego, no competition.

“A whole day. Did the world keep turning?”

“Well, the world’s still going without them. Guess I win.” Five said bittersweetly. He started to get ready to move again, pulling on yet another beanie and slinging his gun over his camo jacket. He wrapped up the blanket and air mattress and packed them away. As he held Didi up, stones moved nearby. Something else was here.

Five ducked and stealthily moved closer to the intruders, hiding behind a wall of rubble and putting Didi next to him. She faced away from everything, only relying on Five’s breathing patterns to let her know what was going on. He silently pulled his gun out and aimed, fingers resting dangerously on the trigger. He took a sharp breath, a small gasp letting Didi know this was more than unexpected – this was weird.

Didi heard more movement and weird whooshing sounds. Five had enough and fired continuous shots, the energy from the gun transferring into him and making him yell at the intruders. He didn’t stop till they were gone. He was breathing heavily and slumped against the wall where Didi was.

“I think I saw myself.” He gasped out.

“And you still shot?”

“... Yes.”

“Yeah?” Didi was incredulous.

“He had someone with him. A woman.”

“Alright, Trigger Happy.”

“I shot the woman in the leg. Her leg glowed orange and then they... they went into a subway station entrance.”

“Are you going to follow them?”

Five considered for a moment. He hoisted Didi up without warning and set off to the station’s entrance. He held his gun prepared in his hand, juggling with Didi. The entrance was caved in with rubble protruding out acutely.

“That is going to haunt me forever.” Five muttered and sulked back to the wheelbarrow.

“Ghost of Christmas Past.” Didi quipped.

“It’s Christmas already? Would be nice to have snow.”

Five placed Didi back into the wheelbarrow and continued down, following the cracks that were once a riverbed.

“Think you’ll end up on Santa’s nice list?”

“No, a lump of coal would be more practical.”

“Always with the practicality.” Didi sighed. She knew she was luckier than Five because she didn’t have to endure the apocalypse on the same level, but his survival instinct was becoming a real buzz kill. She longed for the times when he would read to her, teach her something, where she got to know him. It wasn’t fair on Five to think like that, but it almost felt like he didn’t need her anymore.

“Are you supposed to mean something with that?” Five asked, a hint of anger in his voice. Didi felt bad for pushing his buttons. It was something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately, not intentionally.

“Never mind.” She tried to backtrack.

“I almost got concussed, Dolores, I don’t appreciate this go-around.”

“You did not get concussed.”

“Because you know so much about first-aid?”

“You didn’t hit the right part of your head to be concussed.”

Five stopped walking, dropping the wheelbarrow hard on the ground. Didi rattled around a little. He stalked around to the front of the wheelbarrow, his green eyes that were often soft flared with anger.

“Does your incessant need to be right all the time come from a malnourished childhood?” Five accused, pointing a finger at her.  

“Pot calling the kettle black, here, aren’t we?” Didi retorted.

“Fuck this, you’re just a concept from my imagination.” Five began to stomp off.

“You know I’m more than that, Five. I’m alive – I was never a part of you.”

Five turned slowly and Didi feared she said too much. She was sick of Five believing she was a continuation of his mind, guilt and pride intertwining recklessly in her stomach at the thought of Five carrying that mindset. Too late to take it back, too soon to think about it.

“You’re right, I would never be so intolerable.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever had someone be able to keep up with you, and that’s what makes you angry. Smartest one out of all your siblings, too wrapped up in their own lives to think about you.”

“Dolores...”

“A father that never cared to see your full potential, so you got yourself stuck in an apocalypse.”

“An apocalypse with a hunk of junk for company.”

“You’ve never had anyone to consider an equal.”

“And you think you are?”

“No, I think I’m the first one to challenge you. And you hate that sometimes. You hate that sometimes, I’m right. I win.”

Didi held Five’s fiery gaze, setting her whole body ablaze. Didi didn’t dare back down. She longed to feel a sweet warmth from Five, but if this burning heat was all she would get, she would cherish it.

“You challenge me.” He spat out. “You.”

“Me. A hunk of junk.”

“As if I haven’t been lugging around your ass this whole time.”

“You’d go insane without me.”

“Babydoll, I already am.” Five seethed. “You make me feel nauseated. You and your stupid quick remarks that you think are so clever, you prey on my flaws, my need for answers, with your persistent questioning. Your unbearable massive fucking eyes that look at me like you know me.”

“I already do know you, Five. Not because I am you, because I...”

“You... what?” Curiosity won over his anger. Five dropped his hands and rolled his body around to release tension. “You what, Dolores?” He pestered.

“Because you’re not as closed off as you try to be.” Didi managed out.

Five didn’t believe it at all. He rolled his eyes, still an air of annoyance around him but much calmer than before. There was a mystery to solve, Didi realised. That’s why he was more relaxed. He returned to pushing the wheelbarrow.

“That’s not at all what you were going to say. And what do you mean you’re alive?” Five refused to let up.

“I’ve been alive this whole fucking time, Five. Otherwise, this is a really weird fetish of yours.”

“Changing the conversation by trying to make me uncomfortable. I’ve changed your top for you, Babydoll, nothing is off limits.”

“So what made you so distant before?”

Didi also loved a good mystery.

“I’m not distant.”

“You are crazily avoidant.”

“You’re plain crazy.”

“You shot yourself.”

Five fell silent, unable to think of something to say.

“I thought we were having a moment,” Didi explained. “At the mall, where you saw marks on my shoulder and were so close to me.”

Didi’s plastic heart was beating rapidly in her chest. She could feel it echo throughout her whole body, reverberating in the wheelbarrow. If she wasn’t already a mannequin, the sheer anxiety she was feeling would send her into a silicone shock. Didi was already facing Five and could see his normally cool demeanour shift into something heated. A different fire from before, one that was uncomfortable. Button pushed.

“I... We... We can’t have moments, Dolores.” He breathed out.

“Why not?”

“Because moments lead to... more, and...”

“And you don’t want more with a hunk of junk.”

“I’m sorry for calling you a hunk of junk.”

“I’m sorry for calling you stupid, Five.”

“You didn’t call me stupid.”

“Not to your face.”

Five laughed, but Didi was unsatisfied. She hadn’t meant to break the tension, she was more than happy to sit in the feeling of her stomach swooping if it meant talking about... more. They couldn’t even verbalise it. More. It was a defence mechanism she instinctively fell into, to make him laugh. She couldn’t help but notice he never denied not wanting anything more with her. The closure was bittersweet, she guessed.

They spent the rest of the day on eggshells around each other. Didi felt crazy wanting another fight with Five because at least they were communicating then. But she had to go and ruin it by putting up walls, leaving her to climb her own and Five’s if she ever wanted something. Something more.

Most likely to be a hopeless romantic.

At least Didi knew it wasn’t her. She was hopeless, but apparently not a romantic.

Umbrella Academy, 2004.

The academy was livelier than ever. Viktor played Christmas music on his violin. Klaus was hounding everyone on who they had and what they were getting them. Allison wore Christmas-themed clothing whenever she could, meaning whenever Reginald wasn’t around to care.

 Didi tried to get in the jolly mood. She sat herself down on the couch in a way Reginald would frown upon, kicking her shoes off and throwing her legs over Ben’s lap as he read whatever thriller he was on.

“Ew, your feet smell.” Ben gagged jokingly, and Didi forced a smile. Ben noticed and looked at her concerningly, but Didi just waved him off.

Diego sauntered into the room and sat down on the opposite couch.

“Didi. Ben. Guess what I did.” He said, a mischievous grin painted on his face.

“What, Diego?” Ben sighed.

“I spiked Luther’s eggnog.”

“With alcohol, right? Not drugs?” Didi asked. Didi panicked as she thought about the steroids Luther shot up, not knowing how they would mix with any substances.

“Yeah, I stole some Bailey’s from Klaus’ stash. 10 bucks says he doesn’t even know it’s missing.” Diego joked. A crash sounded from upstairs and Diego sprang off the couch to go and investigate, giggling to himself that it was Luther.

“Is that a crime?” Didi whispered to Ben. He just shrugged his shoulders and continued reading. It wasn’t a thriller, however. The cover depicted a front porch in a thunderstorm, the text swirly black against a yellow backdrop.

“The Notebook, Ben?”

“I like to read happy endings, is that so surprising?”

Mystery solved.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Benjamin.”

“Not my name. You think I sneak out to see movies with you because I like the opportunity to get caught?"

Didi just stared at him reading, feeling the warmth radiate off him on her legs. He was so alive. Didi heard the tentacles gurgle in his stomach, forcing a burp out of him. He gave a weak “excuse me” and kept reading. His domesticity was captivating to her. Beauty in the mundane, a comfort she didn’t want to get rid of.

She prayed that Five was wrong, although he never really was. Maybe the fact that she knew the future changed the future.

Didi was determined to give Ben his best Christmas present but was even more determined to ensure his survival until the next Christmas.

Maybe a little determined to prove Five wrong, too.

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2004.

In her free hour, Didi poured herself over any article or text she could find about time travel, future knowledge, and special capabilities. It took her a whole two minutes to regret her decision. It wasn’t long before she was itching for a distraction, but she forced her head down. Words started to melt together, but she persevered through it.

Her studies were returning useless results. For every claim that the future could not be changed, there was a rebuttal claiming the future was constantly changing. She recognised the names of the authors and scholars as friends of Reginald, so she was more inclined to believe they knew what they were talking about. There was no definitive answer about time travel; the cases for changing the outcomes split right down the middle.

As Didi wiped the dribble of Red Bull off her chin, she made a vow to herself. The day they turned 17, she would never let Ben Hargreeves out of her sight. Didi was nothing if not stubborn. She slammed the book shut and moved on to the next one, hoping for any dregs of information that could open her mind and give her a fucking eureka! moment. On exactly what, she didn’t know.

So Didi sat, back hunched and eyes trained as she furiously scribbled away in her new notebook. She’d written so many passages and copied so many equations she mostly understood that her old notebook was full. Didi was so absorbed in the works that she didn’t notice the figure that had come to sit next to her, which was a real feat considering the Santa hat covered in fairy lights blinking away on their head and the mistletoe they were waving around.

“Time travel?” They asked. Didi ignored them and waved her hand away. She pulled out a new book from her pile, which had intrigued her from the beginning due to the author. Godot Hargreeves. Reginald’s ancestor, she assumed. Grandfather Paradox, String Theory, and Butterfly Effect; words that had already been consumed countless times swam across the crisp yellow pages.

“You’re already sick of us, you want to travel to the future?” They tried to initiate conversation again with a chuckle. Didi briefly clocked them as Klaus. She muttered a thoughtless laugh as she traced diagrams that actually made sense.

The future has to happen, as all things do. The future is never set in stone unless it has already happened. Knowing the future is well and good, but how do you know the future? If the future hasn’t happened to you, you can very well change it, for there is no future to follow. But a future that has happened to you? It cannot be changed, as you’ve already experienced it.

“Or maybe you want to travel back to when you first came and do it all over again. Try and make me fall in love with you.”

“Haha.”

For example, you cannot cheat Death once death has happened. Before you die, Death is playing with you. You can avoid Death through any means. Once the game is over and Death has claimed you, you cannot escape it by turning back the clock. Death is vengeful and will collect what it is owed.

If you knew you were to get hit by a train at 4:03 pm on the 16^th of February, and you knew this before 4:03 pm on the 16^th of February, it may be changed. I will not ask how you would know this, for the world of science looks strikingly like fiction. If time travellers exist, why not oracles? If you have travelled forward in time to 4:05 pm on the 16^th of February to see your corpse mutilated on the tracks, you cannot return to your original time and prevent your death as it has already happened. Even if you have not seen it happen, living at the same time as your death, or any other event, prevents you from preventing it.

“Your eyes look like they’re about to explode, Skippy.”

Of course, you will want to change the future if it ends. It is nearly impossible to know how the future will happen if you yourself do not travel forward and assess. You think you may have stumbled upon a loophole by having a friend travel forward in time, where you have now not lived events but know what they are. These events will still happen. If events are lived by anyone, they will still occur.

“Didi? How long have you been doing this? You missed, like, all the classes today.”

Didi tried to wave him away again. “I’ve been here for 30 minutes, tops. It’s my free hour.”

“I think it’s been five hours.”

Perhaps a way around this can be found and arranged. Please let me know if that occurs. Knowledge is for all – my contact details can be found at the back of the book if I’m not already dead.

Didi flipped to the last pages and scanned for a phone number, address, an email – anything. A line of text had been scrawled out by thick black ink, with Universe 3238 written messily below. Didi ripped out the page harshly.

“Didi, you can’t rip pages out of a book.” Klaus sighed. “What’s gotten into you?”

Didi folded the paper and placed it into her notebook. She packed everything up, testing her strength as she placed the heavy texts back high on the bookshelves.

“I’m fine, Klaus.” She said, feigning cheer. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? Haven’t seen you since lunch, was making sure you hadn’t killed yourself, that’s what’s up.”

Klaus grabbed her by the shoulders and held the back of his hand to her forehead to check her temperature. Didi recoiled from his cold and clammy hands, but that warning look in his eyes kept her in place. Didi had never seen Klaus be so serious.

“Are you... sober?” Didi asked.

“It’s my Secret Santa gift. Steps to sobriety. Are you?”

 “Just caffeine.”

Klaus dropped his hands and sighed again. He grabbed the notebook off the table and handed it back to Didi. The look he gave her was a familiar one and absolutely meant he was not staying sober tonight, and Didi was more than welcome to come over and wake up with a terrible hangover.

“It’s dinner time, Dad’s out on a business meeting, or some shit.” Klaus expressed excitedly. He held up the mistletoe and puckered his lips at Didi. “Means no one can tell us off for a cheeky little kiss.” He sung. Didi gently pushed Klaus out of the way.

“You wish. No Reginald?”

“Nooo dear old Reggie.”

Didi stopped by her room to return the notebook before joining the rest of the academy at the dining table. She took her normal spot next to Ben and shared a smile with him. Didi allowed herself to sneak a look at the oil painting, her stomach dropping as she remembered the last time she’d seen him. An unfinished argument, stopped by her own need to be liked. Pathetic.

Grace brought out steaming plates of sausages and vegetables, and the children stood up one at a time to address the notes they had gotten regarding Secret Santa.

“Someone asked me if I would like a sexy batgirl costume for a gift. Unless Klaus is wearing it, obviously not. I would like some knives.” Diego said and Klaus wolf whistled.

“To whoever asked if I would like some personality for Christmas, I... I hope you die.” Luther said with no emotion. A few members giggled around the table. Ben pushed his chair back as he got up and Didi paid rapt attention.

“My person asked me what I would do if I died tomorrow. Interesting line of thinking, but whatever. I would want to spend my time with you guys. You’re my family, and you mean the world to me.” Ben said happily. Allison threw her bread roll at him, smacking him on the nose and leaving breadcrumbs trailing down his sweater vest. Ben stuck his middle finger at Allison and sat down.

“That was so sweet, Ben.” Didi chimed in. Ben flicked her on the forehead with a laugh.

The other members went around the table. Klaus didn’t understand what his question even meant, Allison wore a size Juicy Couture, and Viktor was happy to be involved and whatever he got was fine. Didi got up to make her announcement.

“I got three notes, and they’re not all from the same person. I think only one of them cared about getting me a present. My 'sexual awakening' was probably Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice. No, I haven’t thought about what chess piece would feel best shoved up my ass. Yes, I like vegemite, but in teeny-tiny doses like you’re meant to eat it. Spread on toast and shit. Thank you.” Didi finished and sat back down.

“Oh, definitely the Bishop,” Klaus answered. “Lots of repressed Catholic guilt there.”

“Not the Knight?” Diego countered.

“Why would it be the Knight?”

“Hung like a horse.”

Klaus flung a piece of potato at Diego who caught it in his mouth. It wasn’t often the academy could laugh and talk at the dining table. Between ill-timed jokes and quips mainly at Klaus, Didi was grateful for moments like this.

Then her eyes would be drawn to Five’s painting. He looked so much older now, forced to grow up well beyond his years. Didi still gets shivers thinking about the life he could have had.

Before lights out, Didi began planning her gift to Ben. Her main goal was to let him know he was loved and appreciated by the academy, as sappy as that sounded. And it sounded really fucking sappy.

As Didi rolled into bed, hair done up tightly in curlers, she played out various conversations she was going to force herself to have with Five.

Hey, I think I love you.

Oh, you don’t love me? That’s fine. I hope we can still be friends.

You don’t think you can be friends with me anymore, now you know my true feelings? Shit, man. Just kill me. Oh wait, you can’t, I’m practically immortal. Even a moon explosion couldn’t kill me.

Oh, you... you do love me? Why didn’t you just say so?

Hey! Where did you go, Five?

Oh, he left.

Best not to think about some things.

Apocalypse, 2021.

Five was already working when Didi woke up. He’d claimed another storefront window as his, marked with numbers that would make anyone’s head spin.

“Decimal point is in the wrong place.” Luckily, Didi’s head worked just fine.

“Good morning to you too, Doll.” Five revisited the equation, making the necessary changes and finding different results. “Did I teach you to catch that?”

Five was a far better tutor than the one Reginald had hired for their mathematical-related subjects. She would give him this one opportunity to be right and gloat.

“Yes, you did.”

“Oh.” Five just shrugged, no gloating to be had. He must be sick.

The equation looked similar to one Five worked on all the time, the correct formula to return to his original timeline. Didi found herself nestled in the wheelbarrow. She looked around for any familiar landmarks, wondering how far Five had wandered this time before his brain needed release with numbers. She didn’t recognise anything around her.

“What time would you return back to? Right when you left, or when the rest of the academy would be the same age you are right now?” Didi asked curiously. As Dolores, it didn’t matter. But as Didi, if Five returned to the time he left then Didi wouldn’t have been adopted and would never have met the Umbrella Academy.

Five held up one finger to silence her as he finished solving the problem. Didi hadn’t realised how long and bony his fingers were. A diet of just soup would do that do you, she guessed. Didi itched to hold them.

His posture was terrible, shoulders tense and rising, creating a hunched form. Didi found it charming. His gun sat firm against his back, never leaving his person since the incident with the actual people in the apocalypse. People that Five decided to shoot. Didi couldn’t wrap her head around that one. She just counted herself lucky Five wasn’t that trigger-happy when he first found her, or she’d be a dead pile of plastic. He shoved one hand in his pocket as he kept writing, head darting all over the window.

The final scrapes of the sharpie against the window signified Five was done. The drooped shoulders meant he was unsatisfied. He clenched his fists together, screwing up his face as he tried to blink, but nothing. He rolled his head from side to side, rolled his shoulders, and tried again. And again. And again.

“I’m sorry, Five.” Didi offered. She could see the toll the failures were taking on him. He ran a tired hand over his face, resting his chin in his hand and tapping his cheek in thought. He spun back to the board, thinking he found something new, but sighed when nothing happened.

“It’s not your fault, Dolores.” He said, dropping himself down to lean his back on the window as he slid to the ground. “I can’t even blink.”

He sat on the ground for a while, exhausted. He pulled his knees close to his chest and stared out into the distance. He drummed his fingers rhythmically against his collarbone and blew air through pursed lips. Five was dejected, not broken. Finally, he spoke.

“I’d return to the time I left. I’d stop the apocalypse and I’d come and find you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my best friend, Dolores.”

Didi couldn’t help but smile. Five grinned at her and pushed himself off the floor, ready to move on to the next place. Best Friend.

“As best friends-” Didi tried to start before Five jumped in.

“I’m your best friend, too?” He sounded almost dubious. Didi fought the eye-roll. Five pushed the wheelbarrow onwards.

“Shut up. As best friends, can we communicate with each other our feelings about... the mall?”

“Communicate our feelings? You sound like my robot mother.”

Didi did not fight the eye-roll this time. 

“Five, please.” She sighed.

“Contrary to popular belief, Babydoll, I’m not a ladies’ man, a flirting heartthrob kind of guy.” Five spoke sarcastically, using his hands to accentuate his point.

“No one is thinking that.”

“It was a type of intimacy I wasn’t expecting, and I wasn’t prepared for.”

Didi felt like giving herself a pat on the back. They were talking, actually fucking talking! And he wasn’t shooting her down!

“Is it... is that an intimacy you want?” Anxiety gnawed painfully in Didi’s stomach. She waited with bated breath.

The silence felt like it dragged on forever.

Didi could feel every rock on the road the wheelbarrow forcefully drove over through her whole soul.

It was tearing her apart.

Five stopped the wheelbarrow next to a cracked stone bench.

His footsteps echoed through Didi’s head as he sat on the bench, on her height level but avoiding her gaze.

Didi wished he would turn to her.

He looked at her. His green eyes were always so breathtakingly beautiful, bloodshot and holding bags.

Didi wished he would turn away.

“I… I think I need a friend right now. I’m sorry.” Five said.

Didi wished she was stronger. He had shot her down.

“Of course, I am so sorry to… uh, to put you in a… situation like, um, like that.” Didi struggled to say. She was once again glad for her mannequin form, or she might have cried. The first heartbreak had to happen at some point. God, she was so fucking stupid. Of course, he’d only want a friend. He’s been through enough trauma as it was.

But she’d been through some shit, too. She was a constant science experiment. She was always used as target practice. She’d had sadistic surgery performed on her while conscious. Her parents died in a violent car crash and her memory was so foggy on who they even were as people. She was pretty sure Diego had a crush on her. She never got any rest, because if she wasn’t resetting her broken bones she was paralysed in the apocalypse. She didn’t have to endure any physical harm for long, but she was mentally breaking and had to use the dysfunctional academy and Five as emotional support.

This wasn’t about her.

It never was about Didi.

It was meant to be about Dolores, a plain and placid mannequin who should not be sentient.

She should be a figment of Five’s imagination.

Plain and placid.

“Babydoll-” Five started. It made her want to vomit and cry.

“You can’t call me that.”

“What?”

“You can’t say you don’t want intimacy and then call me the most intimate name. It’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry, Dolores.”

Plain and placid.

“No, Five, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-”

“Will you wait for me?”

Five looked so earnest. Tears welled silently in his eyes. He was begging, Didi realised. No matter what façade he put up, Five was always that scared boy begging to not be left alone Didi had known from when they first met.

“I’ll always wait for you, Five.”

I’ll always love you, Five.

Umbrella Academy, 2004. Christmas Day.

Christmas was not celebrated by Reginald, Didi already knew that. The day was treated like any other, training and classes with minimal breaks. Didi counted it a Christmas miracle the Umbrella Academy didn’t have a mission that day. Even criminals celebrated Christmas.

When the academy was supposed to be asleep, they found themselves all huddled around a booth seat at Griddy’s Doughnuts. Excitement and giggles filled the air as they passed around presents wrapped terribly in the same obnoxious red and white sparkly wrapping paper they all shared around. At least Didi had managed to steal a golden bow to plop on top of her present to make it look decent. She tried to bask in the joy of everyone else even if just to keep them happy.

Will you wait for me?

Didi tried to shoo the conversation from her head.

I’ll always wait for you, Five.

She quickly wiped away tears as a gift was placed in front of her, surprisingly the most presentable one. The tag read Most Likely to have every bone broken and bush it off written in neat cursive.

“On the count of three, one... two...” Allison began before ripping into her present, not bothering to finish the count so she would be first. Everyone followed suit and wrapping paper littered the table and the floor. The poor diner workers would have to clean up about this.

Didi unwrapped a small box containing food. A loaf of bread, some marshmallows, a jar of peanut butter and a jar of vegemite. The jars had been personalised, with the peanut butter reading Number 8 and the vegemite reading Didi H. Didi chuckled to herself, although had since decided she hated peanut butter. It was the thought that counts.

Luther had received a Frankenstein teddy bear, where the head belonged to a much bigger teddy and was sewn onto a smaller body, given by Ben. He said it represented Luther’s ego.

Diego unwrapped an empty box, and Klaus said the real gift was Klaus’ “Steps to sobriety.” Diego became emotional and pulled Klaus in for a tight hug. Klaus lamely patted Diego’s back.

Allison got a pair of off-brand Juicy Couture track pants that read ‘Jeecy Cautouer' on the ass. Diego admitted it was him through tears.

Klaus held a Breathalyzer. Luther said he was sick of Klaus being kicked out for his drug usage and thought this would help. Didi knew it wouldn’t.

Viktor had a giant, sparkly violin bow that was way too big for any instrument. Allison said between giggles it was her.

Didi awaited Ben’s response to her gift. His face lit up as he took the box off the lid, revealing the mini action figures of the Umbrella Academy. Didi had two of Diego in there and hacked away at one until it looked something like Viktor.

She hadn’t added a Five to the box.

“They’re the voice recording ones. I made everyone say their favourite thing about you. Press the button and you’ll hear it.” Didi explained to Ben. He pulled out the Klaus of the pack and pressed the button. Klaus’ voice cackled to life.

“Ben? I love Benny Boy. He’s… well, he’s the best of us. Brings out the best in us. He’s like a dark ray of sunshine – wickedly warm. Is he going to hear this?” The academy hears a muffled confirmation from Didi. “Fuck. Benjamin, I hate you.”

Ben wraps Didi in a tight hug. Didi accepts gratefully, holding on firmly and resting her head on his shoulder. He smelt like berries and warm fire. She wondered what Five smelt like. Ash and sweat, probably.

Will you wait for me?

“Didi, this is incredible. Thank you so much,” Ben whispered into her ear.

I’ll always wait for you, Five.

“I hope we will always be a part of you, Ben,” Didi whispered back, squeezing Ben impossibly tighter.

The other kids were looking at the action figures, listening to the messages and mocking each other’s voices.

They walked back home after stuffing their faces with sugary foods and drinks. Luther and Allison walked ahead, holding hands and whispering to each other. Klaus and Diego were pretending to be sick, and Ben actually was sick from his food and his tentacles. 

They dashed up the drainpipe and wished each other good night.

Didi shut her bedroom door behind her, placing her present neatly on her desk. As she got changed into her pyjamas, she looked for those black marks again on her shoulder. Nothing. Just tired eyes staring back at her.

She tucked away the Five figurine she’d stolen on her bedside table.

Didi hoped one day she’d be able to record a message from him.

Apocalypse, 2021. Christmas Day.

Five and Didi hadn’t properly celebrated Christmas together yet. It’d always been a short “Merry Christmas” to one another and Five would shoot the gun and they’d pretend that was fireworks. It was good enough for her. Apparently, not for Five anymore.

This year was different. Five had spent the whole day away from her preparing a broken gazebo they found. Preparing how and why, Didi didn’t know. Didi didn’t care.

Didi realised she’d never been away from Five for this long the whole time they were in the apocalypse. She also realised Five did indeed lug her ass around everywhere because she couldn’t do shit as a mannequin. She tried to use her powers, to turn back into a human, but her attempts were as useless as Five’s.

It was a terrible way to spend the day and only left her feeling exhausted and embarrassed. At least Five was in the same boat, power-wise.

After hours, Five had finally returned.

She didn’t know what she noticed at first, her senses were overloaded by Five. His clean-shaven face. His clean face. The button-up he was wearing with the sleeves rolled up, no camouflage jacket in sight. Black slacks that covered his beaten-up shoes with only a small hole at the hem.

Five ran his hands through his hair. Clean hair. He’d wasted a water bottle and some shampoo on it, and even though he would deny it, Five definitely used conditioner. It fell softly against his captivating features. He’d cleaned up for this. He’d cleaned up for her. If she could smell, Didi would pick up on the aftershave he was wearing that overpowered the notes of coconut from his hair.

“Wow.” That was all Didi could say. She realised what she noticed first. How happy he looked.

Five gave a spin for Didi, showing off his new outfit. He smirked at her, the golden pinks of the setting sun making his skin glow. He was showing off to her. Didi’s heart skipped a beat.

“Do you feel underdressed?” He asked. Didi nodded. “I found something for you.” Five pulled out a sequined golden jacket, sending sparkles in every direction. He pulled her arms out and slid the jacket on. It fit perfectly.

“Wow.” Didi repeated.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had you at a loss for words, Dollface.” Was Five flirting with her? “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Five carried Didi over to the gazebo, now covered in tattered tinsel and solar-powered fairy lights. On the gazebo's table sat a few candles, a cooked bowl of soup for Five and a cardboard box that didn’t sit right on whatever was underneath it. It was perfect. For her.

Five delicately placed Didi on a seat and gestured to the gazebo.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“Five, it’s amazing. I love it.”

I love you.

“I’m glad you like it, Dolores. Merry Christmas.”

“Is this a Christmas gift?”

“No, this is a thank-you gift. This,” He lifts the cardboard box up. “Is your Christmas gift.”

It’s a phonograph. Didi has absolutely no idea where he got one from, let alone a working one, let alone a record to go with it. It was the most magical thing she’d ever seen.

“Oh, I love it! Five, I don’t have a gift for you.”

“I don’t need one. Being with you is gift enough.” This is how best friends talk to each other. “It’s a gift for both of us, truthfully.”

He places the stylus down on the record and a grainy guitar comes through. He offers his hand to her for a dance, and she quickly says yes. Five holds her around the waist with one hand and holds her hand out in the other. Didi can’t bend the right way so it's awkward, but it feels right.  

Didi wished she could say it felt like them.

Five swayed with her to the music, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for this. For everything, Five.” Didi whispered.

“Anything. Anytime.” He replied.

He began to waltz with her as the music picked up. It was always just the two of them, but it felt like Didi had his full attention for the first time. It made her feel vulnerable as if he could read all the secrets she’d been hiding. And the ones she hadn’t kept hidden very well.

I’ll always love you, Five.

The music slowed and they stopped. Five breathed heavily, his chest rising rapidly. Didi could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. His warm figure enveloped all of her. He was everywhere. He was all she could think about. He was impossibly close. He was too far away.

Five leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek in a kiss. The feeling of his chapped lips against her silicone skin sent hypocritical tingles down her spine.

“That’s not being very friendly.” She breathed out. “It’s not fair.”

“You’re right.” He sighed, pulling back. Didi missed his touch immediately. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes had her in a captivated trance she never wanted to leave. The fairy lights twinkled around them, adding to the stars in the night sky. It reflected in his eyes, his stare holding a million shooting stars that she desperately wanted to wish upon. Didi would wish for Five to have all the happiness in the world.

“I was caught up in the moment.” Five spoke, ever so quietly as if he didn’t want to break the building tension.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to have moments.”

“I think I’m a liar.”

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2005.

Didi was not the strongest fighter if powers were involved. The only member she could beat easily was Klaus, as the lanky twerp had somehow packed on no muscle, and his ghosts didn’t do shit when he was always under the influence. With one hearty punch to the face and various kicks to the stomach, he’s down.

Didi would never win against Allison as she rumoured herself always to win. So when Didi landed the first jab to Allison’s throat, she ensured victory would be hers. A punch to the stomach sent her barrelling over, a well-placed hit on her back and she went down.

It was vastly more difficult with the other three. She couldn’t get close enough to Ben to land a hit before his tentacles would throw her across the room. Luther had no qualms with breaking every bone in her body, puncturing her lungs, or making her paralysed as Didi could walk it off. Diego was expertly skilled in combat and would have her pinned to the floor quickly.

Didi resorted to other tactics. And heavily relied on her supposed “immortality”.

Diego, as proficient as he was in fighting, was not immune to the pretty girl he had a not-so-secret crush on. He’d have her flat on the ground, his knife pressed to her side that dug painfully and an arm crushing her windpipe. Didi would smile fondly and wink, making Diego lessen the pressure on her throat as he blushed. Didi would wrap her legs around his waist and use her weight to either throw him down or lift herself up, biting him harshly due to the limited usage of her arms and legs and the proximity of him. If that didn’t work, Didi had learned to visualise angles in his knives as he threw them. Didi found herself being able to catch them midair, leaving Diego weaponless. If she got close enough, which she often did because Diego liked her, Didi would slide the blade into his stomach, careful not to hit any arteries or organs, and landed a swift kick to his dick for good measure. Down he went.

Didi knew Grace would patch everyone up in no time, and she always made sure no injury was lethal. She was not offered the same courtesy.

Luther stood before her. Ever since Didi’s durability had been discovered, Luther had used Didi as a constant punching bag. He clenched and unclenched his fists, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. The look in his eyes was vile and sent fear coursing through Didi’s veins. Didi couldn’t die, but she could fucking feel pain. And Luther was going to hit her like a truck.

He lunged at her and she ducked and scampered away. She went low and tried to sweep his legs from under him, but he was too grounded. He picked her up by her foot and spun her around, letting her go to crash into the wall behind with a thunk. There was a Didi-shaped hole in the wall Pogo was going to have to fix. A quick check of the back of her head confirmed she was bleeding.

While down, Didi tried something new. She conjured an image of Reginald in her head and tried to shift into him. She hoped that Luther would be intimated by the presence of his father and Didi could overpower him. 

But Didi could not shift into Reginald.

She should have been able to. What was happening?

Before she could do anything, Luther came barrelling through and uppercut her jaw. She felt her teeth shatter and a large crack in her lower jaw. Luther threw her to the ground. Gasps of shock from the academy were not heard over the blood rushing through Didi’s ears. The scarlet liquid pooled out of her mouth as she realised her jaw was hanging by a few strands of muscles.

Check the video camera footage later, that is gonna look sick.

Luther paused to let Didi catch her breath and shift back, or to tap out. But Didi was nothing if not stubborn.

With her jaw still dangling in front of her, Didi tried again to shift into Reginald and shifted into Allison when it didn’t work. She looked pleadingly at Luther, begging him to stop and quit because he was hurting her.

“Nice try, Didi. I’m not that much of a pushover.” Luther ran at Didi, grabbed her by the waist and twisted her till he had one hand grasped firmly on her thigh and one on the back of her neck. He lifted her up into the air with ease. He brought her down hard on his bent knee, breaking her back and sending blood spurting out of her mouth and nose.

Luther let her go and she fell to the floor. She lay there, convulsing, struggling to wake her mind up to shift out of the pain before she became plastic. Luther ran to her side, rolling her into a recovery position. He thought he had gone too far and whispered apologies through tears. He was lightly splattered with her own blood.

Right where Didi wanted him.

He was emotional, and an easy target. Luther cared far more than he let on and that was going to be his downfall. That was how Didi was going to beat him. 

Didi shifted into the second she had her back broken, still looking like she was on the brink of death, but her brain worked fine. As fine as it could with her spine in pieces, but fine, nonetheless.

“Lu… Luther…” she choked out. She swiped her hand on her mouth, gathering blood, and grasped Luther’s face tightly. Her blood dripped down his face and mixed with his tears and she smiled sadly, pretending as if she was holding on to him for dear life, like he was her life source.

She shifted into her body from this morning and jabbed at his eyes. Luther fell backwards, recoiling in pain. Luther was exhausted from watching Didi almost die. Didi had all the energy in the world. 

She relentlessly attacked, landing quick hits on any part of the body Luther couldn’t block. She wore him down. Whenever she felt tired she would shift again, never letting up on Luther. He could swing her around as much as he wanted, but he was tired.

The clock on the training room wall said they had been fighting for about 40 minutes. One swift jab to Luther’s chest had him falling to the ground, wheezing. He was down for the count.

“You’re a psychopath, Didi.” Luther struggled as Grace checked his vitals. He was still covered in her blood.

The scoreboard flipped numbers as the results of the ‘tournament’ were presented. Reginald had instructed all lessons to be called off and instead have all the children’s fighting abilities assessed instead.

Didi was tying in first place with Ben.

Diego and Klaus fought, Diego easily coming out on top. It wasn’t a very exciting match, but it gave Didi time to gather her senses, take a break she mentally needed, and replace her mouth guard that was shattered on the floor, swept up in the footwork of Diego as he threw knives across the room.

Didi had only one real objective from this tournament. Prove she was as strong, if not stronger, than the rest of the academy. If she could defeat them, she could defeat anything that would hurt Ben. If Diego wasn’t so easily seduced and if Luther wasn’t such a teddy bear she would have lost, and she wouldn’t be able to protect Ben. If Reginald was proud of her, that would be a bonus. 

But she didn’t lose.

Not that she thought Ben’s cause of death would be another member of the academy, but… better safe than sorry.

Allison slid next to her on the metal bench, rubbing her throat from Didi’s punch. Didi noticed a black eye taking shape, most likely from when Luther clocked her in the face.

“You’re so methodical, Dee. You… never mind.” Allison turned her head away to watch Diego hold his foot down on Klaus’ throat as he clawed at Diego’s leg and tapped out.

“What? I’m what? Breathtakingly amazing?”

“No. You punched me in the throat.”

“You stole my Guess handbag.”

“It wasn’t your color.” Allison said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Didi had to scoff at that. “You remind me of him,” Allison spoke sombrely.

Didi felt cold. What other him was there to talk about? The him she was desperately in love with? The him, who kissed her on the cheek, a brief moment of intimacy she thought about constantly?  The him who she’ll wait forever for?

“Him, who?” Didi responded. She played it cool, keeping her eyes glued to the training room floor and counted how many puddles of blood there were. Most of it was probably hers.

“Five. He… He was a little shit.”

“And I remind you of him?”

“Shut up. No, he was just so calculated and planned everything. Plan A to Z. He scared me, sometimes.”

“… And I remind you of him?” Didi had to pat herself on the back for how well she was acting like she didn't know Five.

“I see the same need to win in your eyes. I also saw, like, half your face hanging off. One tug and you could have flung your jaw around. That was horrifying. Nightmare material. Five would have approved, actually. Damn, I miss him.”

Allison rested her head on Didi’s shoulder and Didi stroked her back until she was called back to the floor to fight Ben.

Didi could have put up a big fight like she did the others. She doubted she would have won, but she could have tried.

She didn’t.

Ben unleashed the tentacles from his stomach. They writhed around, scaling the walls and slithering on the floor in search of their next target. In search for her.

Didi dodged around the tentacles but they were too quick and wrapped around her limbs. It was slow at first, the stretching feeling. Didi was trapped in their hold and could do nothing as they pulled her wrists and ankles further from her body. She struggled against them uselessly.

The tingling turned to tickling, turned to burning as the tentacles tried to rip her limbs away from her body. Ben looked on in horror. He barely had control over the tentacles, but it was as if they knew she was durable.

She felt her shoulders pop out of their sockets, her hips dislocating. The tentacles still pulled.

Something flew across the room and smacked into a window, covering it with red liquid.

Her arm.

Her right arm had been torn from her body; the umbrella tattoo illuminated by the sun rays striking through the window.

Much like her arm, and now her right leg, a scream was torn through her body as her throat went numb from the pressure.

She wasn’t alright. In fact, she was alleft. All she had left was her left.

Haha.

How long till brain death?

Her left limbs were gone. She looked like a CPR mannequin.

She started to feel like one too.

Since taking the anxiety medication, Didi’s mannequin transformations had ceased.

She clattered to the floor, paralysed and oblivious to the world around her.

Didi wasn’t sure if someone could feel their organs shutting down, but there was no other way to describe it. Her heart stopped beating, her lungs stopped breathing. She only knew she was alive because she could think.

I have no mouth and I must scream.

She closed her eyes and waited for whatever may come.

Apocalypse, unknown year.

Didi awoke to the apocalypse. She scanned the area for Five, but he wasn’t around. She sat on a broken stone, in a circle of pillars. A discarded lunchbox sat next to her, half an eaten rat attracting flies.

“Five?” Didi called out.

“Well, isn’t this interesting?” A woman said from behind her. She had a cold, clipped voice that made Didi jump. There had never been anyone else in the apocalypse but her and Five. Who was this? “We all thought he was insane. His decadent brainwaves overpowered yours so much we truly thought you were an inanimate object.”

The woman pushed Didi off the stone. She fell face-first into the gravel below.

“Hm. You’re not really here though, are you? This is your timeline, but not your time. I would wonder how you’re doing this, but you’re too insignificant. Fingers crossed we never meet again. Stay in your time.”

Umbrella Academy, 2005.

Didi woke up screaming. From pain, from confusion, she didn’t know. She clutched the thin hospital blanket close to her chest. She was slick with sweat, her heart thumping fast in her chest.

Grace appeared around the corner, Pogo in tow. Grace soothed her as Pogo checked her vitals.

“Shh, Didi, it’s ok. You’re alive. You have all your limbs.” Grace held her hand and placed a cold washcloth over her forehead.

“Her heart is fine. Brain activity heightened. Miss Dolores, can I ask you a question?”

Didi slowly nodded her head. She squeezed Grace’s hand tighter.

“What are your dreams like?” Pogo said, concern evident in his voice.

“Why?”

“You never seem to enter deep sleep, Miss Dolores.”

“You monitor our sleep patterns?”

“Yes. Please, Miss Dolores, what are your dreams like?”

“I don’t dream, Pogo. I, uhm, I don’t need to sleep, really. I just sleep to… keep my body aging?” Didi had no idea what she was saying, if any of it held scientific truth or if that was just what she believed.

“Of course. Get some rest, Miss Dolores.” Pogo finished and he and Grace left her alone. She saw Grace wheel a cart full of her unattached limbs through the window. The clock on the wall struck 2:45 am. No wonder no one was there to greet her.

Didi felt too afraid to fall asleep, not wanting to go back to the wasteland with no Five and that cryptic woman. As boring as it was, Didi stayed awake and shifted whenever she got tired. It was the longest she’d gone without seeing Five.

At 6:00 am, Reginald visited Didi. Whenever he had that pep in his step, Didi knew something bad was about to happen. A new experiment he wanted to try, or he’d bring results that meant she could go through hell and back and be fine and he wanted to solidify it.

“There has been a significant improvement in your combat skills as of late. Why do you think that is?” Reginald asked, refusing to sit down and instead towering over Didi as she lay in the bed. Power play.

“I can beat any criminal, Sir. I want to make sure I am on par with the rest of the academy.” Didi responded. She dreaded what he would say next.

“That you are, Number 8.”

Didi would never have predicted that. On impulse, she felt the need to defend her choices, fearing the praise was a trick, mockery, or plain insincerity.

“I want to take advantage of this opportunity you’ve given me, to be a member of the Umbrella Academy, Sir.”

“I wish the rest of the academy saw it like you do. I don’t say this often, and I hardly expected to say it to you, but I am proud of you. Thank you, Number 8.” Reginald said, his face as cold as ever. He spun and exited the room, leaving Didi alone with her thoughts.

This is your timeline, but not your time.

                              I’ll always wait for you, Five.

                                                            I am proud of you. Thank you, Number 8.

                                                                                          Ben died when he was 17.

                                                                                                                        Bug-a-lugs, we’re so proud of you. 

You’re just a mannequin.

                              Strain of immortality.

                                                            Good doesn’t l…ast. Selfishness perseveres.

                                                                                          The eye – who’s eye is that?

                                                                                                                        You would have loved Five.

Doll. Dollface. Babydoll.

                              The apocalypse was a natural phenomenon.

                                                            You remind me of him.

                                                                                          Universe 3238.

Didi was cleared to go back to her regular schedule after 1 day. She could have gone back immediately but Pogo thought it was best to wait and give her mind time to rest.

Too bad her mind was training for a marathon whilst running a sprint; useless and tired.

She returned to the unfortunate news that Klaus had been kicked out of the academy for illicit substances but would probably find his way back in a few days after he had a bender and a drug overdose with said illicit substances. Didi made sure to hide her stash of weed very well that day. Purely medicinal, of course. Not.  

The other academy members were concerned about her. Ben apologised profusely for practically killing her. Others were worried about her sudden turn around into a “lethal gremlin”. Didi could only reassure the Brellies that she was fine, but she still heard whispers throughout the day.

It was a particularly taxing day, both physically and mentally, and by dinner, the academy was falling asleep. Didi saw this as her chance to sneak around and use the phone to call the contact number she’d found months ago. It had taken her ages to take the scrawl of ink off the number. She had almost burnt the paper in frustration, but through many months of tedious work, she had a phone number.

But Didi had been too swept up in missions and, well, dying, to make use of it. She wasn’t sure what results she was expecting. It would probably turn out to be nothing at all. The publishing date was non-existent and the pages were old, but she’d kick herself for never trying, especially if it ended with finding a way to change the future.

Didi turned on her dimly lit torch, barely making it out of the bedroom wing before she heard something. She quickly switched off her torch and shifted into Allison, who she’d always deemed as the least likely to get in trouble.

A white light engulfed her. At least it wouldn’t be Didi that got in trouble.

“Hey, Sis. What are you doing?” The figure asked smugly.

Diego.

“What are you doing?” Didi replied, wondering how quickly she could manipulate Diego into going away. Should be easy.

“Nuh uh, I asked first.”

“Ok.” Didi began to walk away but Diego was quicker. He blocked the doorway and seemed pretty resolute that he wasn’t going to move.

“You don’t sneak around. What are you doing?” Diego asked again. “I am more than happy to show you a new intimidation tactic I learned.”

“Fucking hell, alright!” Didi figured it was better to give Diego what he wanted. “I was going to visit Luther. I am going to fuck his brains out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, feel embarrassed now?”

“For you, yeah. It’s your first time, I thought you’d be more romantic about it.”

“It’s not our first time. We… uhm, when Didi was announced as a Hargreeves. That event.”

“I literally bullied Luther for being a virgin two days ago. Do you honestly think he wouldn’t want to correct me? Luther loves being right, so you’re wrong right now.”

“Why are you bullying him for being a virgin? You are too, bitch.”

“It’s different, I haven’t been dating my adoptive sister for 3 years, you dubious incest princess.” 

The bathroom door opened, letting in a stream of light to illuminate the two bickering. Luther stood behind the door, a little bewildered and rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, guys.” Luther offered sleepily.

Diego turned and smirked at Didi. “Yeah, he looks ready to go. Stay safe, you two.”

Didi punched Diego in the stomach, making him double over in pain. He gasped loudly. Didi bent down to whisper in his ear.

“Watch your fucking eggs tomorrow, Diego. I don’t need to rumour you to ruin your goddamn day. I will poison them.”

A bedroom door behind them opened quickly, with a sudden stop before slamming into the wall. Didi never meant to draw this much attention, and it was all Diego’s fault.

“Will you shut up?” There was no mistaking that irritated voice. “Oh, oh my god?” Allison questioned. “No, I’m too tired for this.”

Didi’s cover had been blown. She wondered how it looked with Diego bent over, Didi hovering over him, and Luther in the background falling asleep on the doorframe. Didi shifted back into her body.

“I knew it.” Diego gasped, still holding his stomach. “You CPR mannequin.”

“Still watch your fucking eggs.” Didi flicked him in the forehead for good measure.

“What a terrible threat.”

“No, all of you, go to bed. I’ve got an interview with People magazine tomorrow and I’m getting my 8 hours of beauty sleep.” Allison whisper-yelled, clearly angry. Luther bolted off to his bedroom. Allison rolled her eyes and shut her door.

“Good night, Toots.” Didi smiled and pushed Diego out of the doorway. She turned her torch back on and began navigating her way to the telephone that was tucked away in Grace’s kitchen area. She heard the suspicious footsteps of Diego following behind her. She paused in the shadows, hoping to lose Diego.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Toots. You’ve piqued my interest, now I’m f…ollowing through.” He called out in the darkness. Fuck, this guy’s relentless. It would probably be endearing if he wasn’t so annoying. And annoyingly not Five.

Didi turned back on the torch and walked to the kitchen in silence, Diego close behind. She was severely on edge with his close presence, but Didi didn’t let that stop her from doing what she set out to do.

“All this for a m-midnight snack? CPR, no one would bl…ame you.” Diego joked. Didi wasn’t too fond of the new nickname. Didi also couldn’t help notice Diego’s stutter making a comeback, something that only seemed to happen with her. Great.

“Not a word of this to anyone, Diego. Understood?” Didi commanded. She pulled out the page she ripped from the book from her pyjama pocket. Did Diego just blush?

“What are you d-doing?” He asked. Didi began to dial the number and held a finger up to make Diego shut up. She slipped out the pen from her sleeve and got ready to write.

She dialled in the number and put it on speaker. The landline rang exactly three times before Didi was met with what sounded like machinery breathing.

“Hello?” She asked into the speaker. “I’m looking for a Godot Hargreeves?”

The other end just kept breathing. Air whooshed through. It sounded like a robot trying to prove it was human. Didi swore she heard an old man croak.

BEEP. BEEP.

Didi dropped the phone from the sudden sound. She caught it by the cord as her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Diego looked at her, concerned. Didi brushed it off and picked the phone back up.

“Hello, you’ve reached the TC, this is Annie! How may I help you?” Said a woman on the other side of the phone. She was friendly and bubbly, giving Didi whiplash from the other call. Didi shared a look with Diego. What was the TC? She wrote it down.

“Hi, Annie, I’m looking for a Godot? Godot Hargreeves?” Didi spoke slowly, mind reeling.

The woman was silent.

“Hello?” Didi asked.

“We don’t have anyone here by that name. How did you find this number?”

“It was in a book written by Godot Hargreeves. This was their, uhm, contact information.”

Didi could hear Annie ask people on her end about Godot. Quiet murmurs had no idea who that was.

“Ma’am, can I please have your name?” Annie asked.

“Dolores.” Didi gave. Sue her for wanting to be formal.

“Dolores, are you aware of what the TC is?” Annie was losing warmth and becoming increasingly suspicious.

“No.”

“Please don’t call this number again.”

Annie hung up, the disconnecting beeps ringing loudly. Didi and Diego sat in stunned silence. Didi wasn’t sure what kind of explanation she could give Diego.

“Who’s Godot?” He asked. Didi just shrugged.

“I was hoping to find out.”

The phone rang, startling the two. Didi hastily picked it up, almost dropping it again in her nervous rush. Breathe. She quickly turned on the speakerphone.

“Hello?” Didi asked breathily.

“I said stay in your time, is that so hard to do?” A woman on the other end snapped. It wasn’t Annie, but the same voice from her apocalypse dream. She was real. And angry.

The woman hung up.

Her time? Who was that woman? What was the TC? Who was Godot? The fuck kind of name is that? How does any of this help her? Would Diego ever stop staring at her like that?

Diego coughed quietly as if Didi could forget that he was there. He looked expectantly at her, waiting for answers she didn’t have.

“I found a number,” She began. “In the back of one of Reginald’s old books. There was talk of time travel, and I thought it sounded interesting. I wanted to know more. But, as you heard, I didn’t get any answers.”

“Do you know what the TC is?”

“No, do you?”

“No.”

Didi rested her head on the wooden table the phone sat on. She knew it was going to be pointless, but she still had to try.

“Thank you anyway, Diego,” Didi mumbled.

“For what? I didn’t… do anything.”

“I don’t know, for being here.”

“Anytime. Always.” Diego placed his hand on her shoulder blades and rubbed supposedly soothing circles with his thumb.

Mother fucker.

Chop that thumb off.

Stick it up your ass.

Didi didn’t need to look up to know what expression Diego had on his face. She was sure it was a similar expression to what she wore when Five was talking to her. She prayed he wasn’t confident enough to act on his feelings.

I have as close to an apocalyptic dream boyfriend as one could get while waiting for said boyfriend to be ready.

Didi got up and gathered her things. She wished Diego a brief goodnight before jolting up the stairs and back into her room.

She didn’t care what state she left Diego in. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, to not say no, but the reason was pretty unbelievable. She’d watched enough rom-coms to know what stringing along was, but this hardly felt the same. What would be stringing him along is if she ever reciprocated his actions and feelings while waiting for Five. Right?

Didi grabbed her notebook and stuffed the ripped page into it. It wasn’t anything useful, or something that could help Five get his powers back and return to stop the apocalypse, but she supposed it was a start. Of course, Didi had more questions than answers now, but she had something — the TC.

She quickly fell into bed and awoke to Five staring at her. It looked like he’d been crying. His hair was dishevelled, eyes wide and bloodshot, his hand alternating between cupping her cheek and poking it. He was muttering something Didi was fairly certain weren’t words.

“Hey! Stop poking me,” Didi said. She’d laugh if Five didn’t look so… no, she couldn’t describe it. Five fell backwards. He was shocked, his whole body shaking.

“Dolores!” He cried out and clambered up to wrap her in a tight hug. He squeezed tightly as if he was afraid she’d go. “Where were you?”

“What do you mean?” Didi had only missed one day. She wasn’t sure if it would even impact how time passed in the apocalypse.

“You were gone for 8 days, 3 hours, and 23 minutes.” Five was still holding her tightly. She realised what he looked like.

His darting eyes.

His frantic frown that switched to a manic smile like it was nothing.

Five looked insane.

Five Hargreeves may have finally lost the plot.

And it was all Didi’s fault.

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2023.

8 days, 3 hours, and 23 minutes ago, Five Hargreeves was done waiting. 

8 days, 3 hours, and 23 minutes ago, Five Hargreeves was ready to tell Dolores what she already knew. 

8 days, 3 hours, and 23 minutes ago, Five Hargreeves had curled branches strung through gold metal to make a bracelet.

8 days, 3 hours, and 23 minutes ago, Five Hargreeves prayed his voice wouldn’t betray him.

8 days, 3 hours, and 23 minutes ago, Dolores was nonresponsive.

Five checked his Casio watch he’d taken from a beheaded businessman corpse and checked the time. 

7:09 am. 

He placed Dolores into the wheelbarrow and set off to explore more ground. He hoped to find something beautiful, at the very least something better than the gazebo he found for Christmas. Dolores deserved it for putting up with his cranky ass. He was beginning to think he’d give her the world if he could.

He had realised quickly that everything he said in that argument he had with Dolores last month was true. He didn’t say them right, and his tone was harsh, but the words were true.

Dolores did make him feel nauseated. It was butterflies in his stomach that fought each other to the death whenever he looked at her. The need to be with her surpassed a general need for companionship. Five wanted to be with Dolores because she was Dolores, not just someone to have a conversation with. Her quick remarks were witty, and she made him laugh with them. He genuinely enjoyed her company and her personality.

Five loved to be right, loved to show his intelligence and loved to learn. Dolores questioning him gave him opportunities to do just that. And her unbearable massive fucking eyes? Five was addicted to their color. He realised he was just upset he couldn’t stare into them without Dolores questioning, again provoking Five’s need for answers. Five would compare her to an artwork, but artwork implies protection, and if Dolores was caged behind class the world would be rid of her sweet and sharp demeanour.

Dolores did know him, and she still valued him despite his flaws and temperance.

Five was ashamed it had taken him this long to figure that puzzle out, especially when it seemed Dolores already had. But she was clever, and far more emotionally aware and mature than he was. Five had caught up, and however embarrassing the delay was, he knew what he felt.

He planned to find a botanic garden, or a lake, or something tranquil when he gave Dolores the bracelet and admitted his feelings. Five had never been in love before, so why not start now?

The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

Dolores hadn’t said a word that morning. Five didn’t think that much of it, she often went quiet when the tension was heavy between them. Normally the tension was caused by an argument, or some awkward moment between them that Five stopped before he did something he couldn’t take back. Either way, it was often Five’s fault.

Dolores didn’t comment on his nervous energy. Dolores didn’t make fun of the way Five jittered around. Dolores wasn’t caught staring at him. Dolores didn’t say something kind, something humorous, or anything at all.

“Are you still asleep?” Five asked.

Not a mumble or murmur to be heard.

“Dollface?”

Five gently shook Dolores awake. Her vacant eyes looked painted on, her chip in her shoulder literal, her faded red lips unmoving.

“Dolores?”

She wouldn’t move.

Dolores might as well of been dead.

Stage 1 – Denial.

She was probably asleep, that’s all. They didn’t have a particularly late night last night, but maybe Dolores was just sluggish.

Maybe Dolores was playing a prank on him. She wasn’t one for mischief, instead opting for a cutting remark, which could be attributed to the lack of body movement. So maybe this was the only kind of prank she could do.

“Very funny, Doll.” Five said. “You can stop it now.”

The only sounds Five could hear was the wind whipping through the air, ruffling the fur of his ear flap beanie.

“Alright, nothing to see here then, I guess.”

He carried on, whistling as if he was in on the joke like a parent pretending not to see their kid as they hid terribly. Five immediately realised without Dolores’ conversation, he was bored. He wondered how he survived those first weeks in the apocalypse without her. Was far less insane back then. 

Five flicked her in the head and shook her shoulders. He lightly slapped her cheeks, but she was not moving. He remembered one time Allison had pinched his nose to force him to wake up one morning as he had fallen asleep in the library, but Dolores’ nose didn’t squish like that.

Holding his hand over her nose, Five noticed she wasn’t breathing. A tiny thought in his head said she didn’t have any lungs to begin with, but reckless thinking overtook any rational thoughts.

Dolores was dead.

Stage 2 – Anger.

Five spent the next few days screaming and shouting until his throat was in unbearable pain. He shot his gun at anything, buildings, glass, corpses, anything to remind himself he and only he had the power to take life in this apocalypse. Not some fucked up universe, a filthy god, rotten judgement, nothing but him.

He turned the gun on himself.

He stared down the barrel, hands struggling to hold it straight. He pressed his forehead to it. His fingers ached to pull that tiny trigger, but his heart ached more to stay alive, to keep the memory of her alive. To return to the right time, to stop the apocalypse for her.

He ripped the gun away from himself, sending it skidding across the ground. He clenched his fists tightly and dug his jagged nails into his palm, breaking the skin. He didn’t care.

The world, and any high powers within it, would rue the day they took Dolores from Five.

Stage 3 – Bargaining.

Five didn’t have the energy to be angry anymore. The universe was already so cruel, and he so foolish, he should have expected something like this. Nothing good can last forever.

Five had no idea what to do. Maybe no plan was better than a stupid plan, but if he didn’t try anything he might honestly kill himself.

He kneeled on the floor, rearranging stones and sticks to form a circle. Leaves that he took great care to lay down blew away with the wind. He stuck his middle finger up to the sky and took a deep breath.

Carefully, Five laid Dolores down in the middle of the circle. He got down on his knees outside it and clasped his hands together.

“I don’t know who I’m praying to, or who I am begging with, but please – bring back Dolores. I’ll do anything. I’ll cut my arm off. Not both, because I still want to hold her.”

It started to patter down lightly with rain. It didn’t ease him, or bring Dolores back. All it did was wash away Five’s tears him his own face.

Dolores was dead, and Five couldn’t bring her back. 

Stage 4 – Depression.

Five lay on Dolores’ chest, sobbing. His head ached from the emotional exertion and from lying on plastic, but Five couldn’t bring himself to move. She smelt softly of fire, smoke that would never leave the fabric of her clothes. She still wore the gold sequin jacket that currently cut into his cheek. He had offered to take it off after Christmas but she had said she "loved the sparkles". 

The rain was pouring heavily now. It soaked through his clothes and left him shivering over her corpse. A bolt of lightning could be seen in the distance, thunder quickly following. It deafened Five with its volume.

He clung tighter to Dolores. There were so many things he hadn’t said to her, so many conversations yet to happen. Lingering looks that could have been more. Not enough giggles were heard, not enough weak attempts at flirting had, and not enough time to be with her.

“I would give anything to be with her. I could handle living in an apocalypse forever if I was with her.” Five cried, clinging to her harder. He ran his fingers over her cheek, her protruding collarbone with the stars, and her lips, kissing his index and middle finger before placing them gently on her lips. He closed her eyelids, but she still stared back at him. Empty.

Dolores was dead, and Five didn’t tell her how he felt.

Stage 5 – Acceptance.

Five finished digging the hole in the soil. It was shorter than a normal hole for dead bodies, but Dolores only had half a body so he figured it would be ok. A broken piece of stone was planted in the ground for her headstone, her details written in her favourite color of Sharpie – the neon green one. Five wasn’t sure if that was actually her favourite or if she just liked to make fun of it. There was so much about Dolores he didn’t learn yet. He wasn’t even sure of her last name.

Dolores

2019-2023

I’ll always cherish you.

He took the bracelet gingerly from his pocket and slipped it onto his wrist.

Five wiped away his tears and slowly walked to Dolores. He gently cupped her cheeks and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead. He bent down to her level to take one last look at her, poking her face in a last-ditch effort to wake her up. He ran a hand hastily through his hair and stroked her cheek, trying to find the energy to muster a goodbye. One last poke, because her favorite thing to do was push his buttons. Five felt the same.

“I love you, Dolores. We’ll be together again someday.” He whispered, so quietly he didn't hear it before the wind ripped it away.

“Hey! Stop poking me!” Dolores said. Five fell backwards, his body wracked with shock. She was alive. She was fine. She was going to see the grave he made for her.

“Dolores!” Five cried out and clambered up to wrap Dolores in a tight hug. He squeezed tightly, tears of joy running down his face. “Where were you?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, oblivious to the time that had passed.

“You were gone for 8 days, 3 hours, and 23 minutes.” Five was still holding her tightly.

“How?”

“I don’t know, I don’t care. I’m glad you’re back.” Five pressed a kiss to her temple and buried his head into her neck. He spun her around, relishing the moment of her return.

“Is that… a tombstone with my name on it?”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Were you about to bury me?”

“What else do you do when someone is dead?”

“Mm. Can you move my arm to hug you back?” Dolores asked, and Five was all too happy to oblige. Her arm creaked slightly as he moved it up, the wear and tear making itself known. It jutted out awkwardly as her hard plastic dug into the side of his chest, but Five could hardly care. He had his Dolores back.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me. When we first met.” Five was practically clawing at Dolores now.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry, Five.”

“No, I’m sorry I wasn’t going to wait for you. That’s completely hypocritical of me.”  

“I think the situations are a little different.” Dolores tried to ease Five’s thinking, but Five was too caught up in the self-deprecating train of thought.

“I’m a terrible person. You deserve better.”

“I don’t care what I deserve, Five. I know what I want. You know what I want.”

Please say it. Please say it so I know I’m worthy.

But she didn’t. Dolores steered the conversation away from any meaning, leaving Five to desperately hang on to words in his own head. Was she afraid of getting her heart broken? Was she afraid of breaking his?

“I guess it’s fate that I woke up in time, huh?” She joked, eyeing her tombstone. “Oh, you’ll cherish me? That’s so sweet.”

Five had never believed in fate. He was a child of science, science brought him into the world and took him to the apocalypse. Fate was a thing of fiction.

“I guess it was.” But Five had always liked science fiction.

He kept the bracelet on his wrist for now. He wanted the moment to be perfect, he wanted himself to at least be functioning for her. Not with his hands covered in self-inflicted cuts, his fingers still tingling with the memory of the trigger, his tear-soaked sleeves, not with bloodshot eyes and a frail smile. But with the ability to show the love she deserved. 

Dolores was alive, and Five loved her.

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2006.

Ben died when he was 17. No one seemed to know how.

On her 17th birthday, Didi only had one wish. Holding the cupcake Grace had made for her, with sparkling white icing and a single purple candle, she wished with all her heart that Five was wrong. She blew out the candle, hearing the others eagerly chatting about the future as almost adults. That was a terrifying concept to Didi.

Allison was looking at auditions, dreaming of being a big movie star and getting her fame from outside the academy. Diego wanted to move out and join the police force. Ben wanted to travel the world. Klaus wanted to go with, to absorb the “culture” he’d say with a wink. Luther was set on staying with the academy, believing that if he stayed everyone else would too. Viktor didn’t talk much about the future; he didn’t talk to them at all. Didi could pretend she had no idea what happened there, but she knew Reginald had instructed Viktor to keep his space so the academy could focus better. She’d fight it if Reginald didn’t have a point.

Didi had no idea what she wanted to do. If there even was a future to look forward to. She’d know in 365 days if Five was right, if an apocalypse was to happen. She’d know because Ben would be dead. She prayed that Five somehow ended up in a different timeline, and everything he talked about was happening to a different Umbrella Academy. But he hadn’t been wrong yet. The smartass. 

As training got harder under the command of Reginald, the academy rebelled harder. Sometimes they barely got home in time to have a shower and forcefully sober up before scheduled sparing began. It was easier for Didi than most, as she would just shift into the body from yesterday. Klaus was barely sober enough to be hung over or crashing down. Didi always made sure to have a nap, just to see Five, even if it meant being late and upsetting Reginald. She’d gotten used to ‘organ removal’ punishment by now, even making jokes about selling her body parts when she’s older.

The missions happened more frequently. They started to evolve from rescue missions to retrieval missions. Amulets, statues, and important documents. Didi was utilised far more than she was comfortable with, often being the centrepiece for plans. They revolved around her shifting into the correct person, acting the right way, with Allison charming the room – or rumouring them. The others would sneak around, Diego always managing to get into a fight, before leaving with whatever Reginald had instructed them to get.

And each mission Ben walked away alive. Cut up, bruised, digesting whatever the horrors from his stomach committed, but alive. And that was good enough for Didi. Much to the disappointment of two certain DiDiego relationship hopers, Didi spent large amounts of her free time with Ben. She was now begrudgingly a member of a book club with just Ben, and a part of Ben and Diego’s taste-testing team with Klaus as they tried new recipes.

It had been 1 week and 4 days since they had all turned 17. They’d snuck out again for another night out. Didi preferred the quiet nights at the diner, or a stroll down the park while having a slight buzz from weed, but Klaus had other plans for the night. If Ben was going, Didi had to.

Didi got ready in Allison’s room, the two drowning in denim as Allison hemmed and hawed over what to wear. She pulled out mini skirt after cardigan after thin scarves before instructing Didi that she was going to have to wear the camo dress so Allison could wear the matching gold one and have their “Mary Kate and Ashley moment”.

“It’s just some random party, Ally. I think people will be too drunk to know who we are, let alone care what we’re wearing.” Didi zipped herself into the dress, gave her hair one last fluff, and fell on Allison’s quilted bed. She grabbed the closest magazine, an interview she and Allison did for Seventeen and smiled to herself as she remembered the self-defence tips she gave.

“The entire Umbrella Academy reputation is resting on this, Dee!” Allison sighed. “We only get to wear domino masks in public.”

Didi got up and swiped some eyeliner from Allison's vanity. She drew a heart below her collarbone to mimic whatever marks Five saw. It didn’t feel right, but it looked interesting enough for the night.

“Oh, wearing your heart on your sleeve tonight? Cuteee!” Allison squealed. Didi immediately rubbed it away. “I don’t understand you, Dee.”

“Not looking for love.”

“But you were.”

“And I thought you were in love with Luther.”

“Gag, not this again.”

Allison pretended to be busy fastening her giant belt buckle to avoid Didi’s eye contact. It’s not that Didi was mad at Allison for lying to her about her relationship with Luther, Didi just didn’t understand what Allison had to gain from lying to Luther.

Allison had admitted she made the relationship seem much stronger than it was, and while she did love Luther, and even thought he could be the one when they were younger, he seemed too stuck in this fantasy world of staying in the academy forever while Allison was eager to leave. The love Allison had for Luther had faded, but he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, Allison, it’s just hardly fair. It’s like stringing him along.”

“Is that what you’re doing with Diego?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That is definitely not the same.”

“I heard a rumor you told me the truth about Diego.” Allison said coldly, not used to not having the upper hand.

Didi felt the rumour wash over her, losing vision for a brief second before opening her mouth to say something. Her body tried to rebel against her, her tongue ready to shape words Allison desperately wanted to hear. Her brain kicked into gear and shifted her out of that state before resuming her current form.

“What the fuck was that?” Allison asked, perplexed by what she just witnessed.

“I stopped… I stopped your rumour?”

“You greasy bitch. You’re not allowed to do that.”

“Ok, pig breath. I-”

“I heard a rumor you couldn’t shift for the next five minutes.” Allison was experimenting on her now. Didi had always been concerned about Allison's abilities, but now she was terrified of Allison herself. The way she stared at Didi, so intrigued, was remarkably close to Reginald. Her whole body tingled as it tried to shift, or even escape to mannequin form, and she became queasy, her predrinks threatening to come up over Allison’s carpeted flooring.

“I can’t shift,” Didi admitted. “Please, I’m going to be sick. Make it stop.”

“It’s five minutes, Dee.”

“I can’t handle five… minutes.”

“Alright, princess.” Allison mocked.

“Spoilt bitch.” Didi spat back, stomach writhing in pain.

“I heard a rumor you were back to how you were five minutes ago.”

Didi could finally breathe again. The weight on her shoulders disappeared and left her heaving. She was far more cautious around Allison from then on, knowing she could make her completely powerless but was honestly surprised she’d never used that trick before during training.

She tried to shake off the feeling of powerlessness as the academy, minus Viktor, made their way to some of Klaus’s “friends” hang out. The academy was met with a sloppy table covered in beer spills and cups, too many low-rise jeans, a mock DJ set up playing a song Didi had never heard and 200+ people crammed into the rooftop.

The academy split off, but Didi didn’t have time to do her general observations and escape plans as Klaus pulled her into the middle of the designated dancing area.

“Stick your tongue out!” He yelled over the music. He spun around and placed a small red circular pill with a bird engraved on Didi’s tongue as she obliged. “Now swallow, sweetheart!” Klaus laughed. “Maybe you’ll hear that one later!” Ew? Didi did it anyway.

Didi grabbed Klaus’s shirt and pulled him close, not wanting to lose her voice by yelling all night. 

“What is this?” She asked. Klaus laughed as he grabbed both her shoulders. He pushed his nose right against hers, a maniacal look on his face. 

“You have no survival skills, Skippy! Didn’t they teach you to ask first down under?”

“What?”

“It’s my good friend, Molly!”

“…What?”

“Jesus – it’s ecstasy!”

Colours exploded all around Didi. Klaus grew further away, but his hands were still placed on her shoulders. He swayed rhythmically before turning around and shaking his ass on Didi.

“Does this count as drugging me?” She questioned. She stood completely still as the world zoomed in and out around her.

“No, now don’t shift or you’ll waste the high. Did it kick in yet?”

The most magnificent shade of blue Didi had ever seen pulsed from the speakers. It beckoned her over. She left Klaus to dance by himself as she walked over to the light, stuck in its trance. She’d never seen a colour so beautiful and vivid before. It was electric, sending shivers down her spine as she became drunk on it. Didi didn’t even notice the muscle of a person she bumped into until they grabbed her arm and spun her to face them.

“Damn, CPR, your pupils are huge,” Diego remarked, clocking his head to the side as he took in Didi’s appearance.

“Done staring yet, Batman?” Didi blinked slowly, unsure if her words came out because her mouth felt like cotton. Like she was eating a giant bag of cotton. Didi couldn’t touch cotton without wanting to cut her hands off. She was going to die.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“None ya.”

“None?”

“None ya bees wax, loser.”

Diego rolled his eyes and steered Didi away from the crowds to the quietest corner, which was still loud enough to make Didi’s ears ring. Ben was sipping some beer and chatting to a pair of girls who twirled their fingers around their hair – that doesn’t sound right – and flashed pearly whites at him. Didi had cottony whites. She reached into her mouth and tried to remove the invaders. Diego slapped her hand away from her mouth but quickly held her hand as the two other girls turned their attention to them, looking concerned. Diego smiled awkwardly.

His teeth were slightly crooked, one canine pointer than the other. Didi tried to help Diego out by removing it.

Ben silently cursed them both as the girls approached Didi and Diego.

“Is this guy bothering you, sweetie?” One of the girls asked. She smelt overwhelmingly like crisp apples.

“No, we-” Diego tried to interject but the girls hushed him.

“We weren’t talking to you. Is this creepazoid bothering you?” The other girl asked, linking arms with her friend. Didi could barely take her eyes away from the sparkling diamond on the side of her nose. Should she get a piercing?

“Yes,” Didi spoke around the cotton in her mouth. She tried to spit it out but all that came out was saliva, dripping onto her chin. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand.

“How about I take care of her?” Ben asked from behind the girls. Didi lit up at the suggestion. She threw Diego’s hand away and stumbled over to Ben.

“Benjamin!” She yelled too loudly, and Ben grimaced from the volume. She threw her arms around him haphazardly and Ben slowly patted her back.

“You know him?” Apple girl questioned.

“Mmhm, he’s basically my brother,” Didi replied. The girls seemed content enough with that and intentionally pushed past Diego as they walked away.

“Your teeth,” Didi stared at his pained smile. “Your teeth are so… square.”

Ben looked at Diego, asking for an explanation.

“Yeah, she’s got a thing for teeth now.”

“Teeth are the dental records of the soul.”

“Of course, CPR.”

“Not you, creepazoid.” She copied the girls from before. “Like when you die and you need to be identified, they use your teeth. Like the dental – wait, no.”

“Teeth are the dental records.” Ben offered.

“Teeth are the dental records.” Didi repeated.

“Ok, Didi, how much have you had? We’ve been here 20 minutes, top.” Ben pulled Didi back up as she started to sink to the floor. The puddles around her told a story, a long-lost love between partygoer and alcoholic beverage. And she was determined to taste every single one.

“Klaus.” She said as she stared at the floor. The puddles. They were so lonely.

“Great. She could be high on anything.” Diego mumbled.

“Dude, live a little. This is what normal 17-year-olds do.” Ben argued back.

“You said you weren’t even drinking tonight.”

“Those two hot girls brought it over to me.”

“Hot girls? I don’t even recognise you. Your morals crumble when you see a girl you don’t live with.”

“Diego, she had a nose piercing. I’ve never seen one of those. It was hot.”

“Dude.”

“Dude!”

“Say hot one more time, dude.”

“Hot!” Didi screeched from Ben’s arms. The cotton was burning her mouth.

“While you’re being a buzzkill, I’m going to go have some fun, with other normal 17-year-olds, and I’m going to take Didi here before she rips out all her teeth. Ok?” Ben spoke in a condescending tone to Diego, already taking Didi to the floor before waiting for an answer. He pulled out Didi’s hand from her mouth and laughed.

With the music thumping and the lights flashing, Ben danced. It was possibly the most pitiful thing Didi had ever seen. He rolled his shoulders out of time, his knees bending in ways that should have broken them, his chest popping weirdly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Didi asked.

“Dancing.”

“That’s not how you dance.”

“I don’t know, those girls over there seem to like it.” Ben gestured over to a group of girls who were all laughing at him.

“Nah, they’re laughing. Hehe haha! Listen to the music. Count it in 8.”

“Why 8?”

“I dunno. Do whatever – rolling your shoulders? Roll your shoulders on the counts.”

“What are the counts?”

“The counts of 8, Ben!”

“Get your hand out of your mouth.”

“Sorry, I have a giant ball of co’ton in my teeth.”

“Your accent is so thick right now.”

Ben was still dancing terribly, but he was having fun. Didi threw her hands up in the air, grabbing the music as it streamed to her ears, feeling it float through her fingers in a bright orange haze.

Didi loved ecstasy!

She shimmed closer to Ben, able to smell the bitter tinge of beer on his breath.

“Hey, Ben!” She yelled. “If you could do anything, what would it be?”

“I want to get a girl’s number.” He yelled back at her. He blushed a little, which Didi thought was adorably dorky. Adorkable.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah! Like, a number and maybe a date.”

“Easy. Hold on, I-”

“Get your hand out of your mouth.”

“It’s this one tooth-”

“Didi.”

“Just-”

“Dolores.”

“Don’t government name me. That’s reserved for uuuh… nerdy little freaks who ain’t know nothing about me. Now, we’re going to go get Benny Bonny Ben a date.”

Someone screamed near the edge. The music abruptly stopped as everyone ran to see what was happening. Didi saw Luther push everyone out of the way to see what happened, and followed behind, dragging Ben with her.

A dented car on the road. A dead Klaus on top of the car. Luther pushed his way back through the crowd to run down to the road. Ben and Didi just stared. Didi shifted into a sober state of mind and was about to leap over the rooftop barrier to Klaus till Ben held her back.

It didn’t make any sense.

Klaus didn’t die. Didi saw Klaus’ corpse in the apocalypse, just like the others.

But Ben stood next to her, alive instead.

How was Didi supposed to know that was to happen? That Klaus would die?

It didn’t happen. Couldn’t. Wasn’t meant to.

Allison brushed up against Didi to see what was happening. Luther and Diego ran out of the building and to Klaus. They seemed to bicker with each other, Diego talking rapidly with his hands and Luther checking Klaus’s pulse.

Didi grabbed Allison and Ben’s hands. Allison turned into Didi and let out sobs onto her shoulder. Ben still stood in shock.

But the biggest shock was when Klaus gasped loudly and sat up.

Diego yelled and grabbed Luther in panic.

Allison almost ripped Didi’s hand off.

Klaus surveyed the scene and threw his hands up in the air in celebration. The other partygoers who had no attachment to Klaus also cheered, thinking it was a weird party trick, or maybe happy a death didn’t ruin the party.

Didi saw Luther immediately go off at Klaus. Diego stood behind, interjecting with a pointed finger occasionally. They looked like an old married couple whose child was caught sneaking out to a party.

“I want to go home.” Allison cried from Didi’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Home sounds good right now.” Ben replied. He was breathing heavily, his hand harshly squeezing Didi’s. Ben cracked Didi’s knuckles.

“He was just lying there for five minutes,” Didi said.

“Don’t remind me.” Allison mourned.

Didi pulled the two of them away, shouldering her way through the crowd as the party picked up. She was astonished how anyone could feel like dancing at a time like this. Didi wasn’t about to chalk it up to normal 17-year-old behaviour.

Ben died when he was 17. No one seemed to know how.

11 months, 3 weeks and 3 days to go.

It wouldn’t take that long.

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, October 14^th, 2006.

The day started normal. Reginald was preparing them for another mission. Didi wished she could remember what it was.

She wished she could remember why it was so important.

The ride there where they would have nervously joked.

The stakes.

The purpose.

The mission.

She wished she could remember how Ben Hargreeves died.

She wished she could remember how she ended up back there.

Apocalypse, year unknown.

The place she went when her life was at risk, where other people would have been killed in her situation.

The apocalypse, without Five. The apocalypse, with the unknown woman.

Didi was lying face down in the gravel again. She heard a scoff behind her.

“You again. I’m not a teacher, you know. I can’t keep teaching you the same lesson.”

Didi felt pressure on the back of her neck with a sharp spike. The woman was resting her shoe on Didi’s neck.

“I told you to stay in your time. You are becoming more trouble than you’re worth.”

The woman stomped down and popped Didi’s head clean off. She rolled away from her body, taking gravel and dirt with her. Her head stopped against a large rock, and Didi saw the woman for the first time. She had curled grey hair done up with a fascinator. She held a thin smoking device between two gloved fingers. Her red lips curled in a smirk.

“Goodbye, Dolores.”

Umbrella Academy, October 16^th, 2006.

Ben Hargreeves was dead, age 17. And no one knew how. They just knew it was their fault.

It was snowing on the day of Ben’s funeral. Didi was normally fascinated by the snow, but the cold stung her face sharply and reminded her of her mistakes. They walked in silence out to the courtyard, where Ben lay in a closed casket. It was horrifying to think he was in there, and she couldn’t even recall how he got there. What if there was a reason the casket was specifically closed?

She stood with the academy, not even allowed to wear black as it wasn’t their uniform. No one made eye contact. Everyone kept to themselves, the icy atmosphere growing. Didi wiped away a stray tear that dared to fall.

“Your father is ready to give the eulogy, children,” Pogo announced. He sombrely observed them, offering a sad smile in support of them. Didi didn’t want it. She wanted Ben back.

Reginald stepped forward. He was already disappointed, Didi knew that much. They had failed. It was all their fault. They let Ben die.

“The world is full of injustice,” Reginald began. “Good people die along with the bad. This cosmic equation will never change unless evil itself is wiped from existence.”

Didi raised her head to look at the others. The academy looked shattered like nothing was worth it anymore. Klaus was hardly listening, Allison was breathing heavily and holding back tears. 

“Thankfully, there are powerful forces pushing back against the wicked and the iniquitous. Individuals who have the strength to pull together against insurmountable odds, to face adversity with unblinking courage, and not to hesitate to sacrifice themselves for another.”

Didi heard Viktor take a shaky breath. She was surprised to find herself angry at that. Viktor hadn’t done anything and was far less to blame than the rest of the academy. He had lost a brother that day too.

It was misplaced anger that Didi quickly threw back on herself. If Viktor was the least to blame, Didi was the most. A pathetic excuse for a hero. More tears broke through.

“Unfortunately, none of you are such people. Despite years of training and weeks of preparation, you allowed Number 6 to die on this mission.”

Didi could have stopped all of this. She was meant to protect Ben. That was the whole reason she did anything for the past 4 years.

“It wasn’t our fault!” Allison interrupted. Lie. She was trembling, tears falling quietly. Luther held out an arm to quiet her. But Reginald was far quicker.

“Excuses?” He asked, outraged. “I will not hear them. The Umbrella Academy has failed on of their own, the consequences of which are dire.”

Allison fell back into place. Compliant, obedient. There was no fire in any of them anymore.

“Hold on to this feeling, children. Let it fester in your hearts so there is never a next time.”

Didi stared at the coffin. The picture of Ben. Mild smile, kind eyes. Gone.

“Training will be cancelled today out of respect for your brother. We resume tomorrow at 6 am.”

Reginald left, Grace following behind. Pogo stayed for a moment with the children before deciding to give them space as they mourned.

It was just the 6 of them.

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Viktor tried to say. His voice cracked. A blatant lie, no matter who you asked. Didi felt angry that he would try and talk about something that did not concern him. It was entirely their fault.

“How would you know, Viktor? You weren’t even on th-the mission.” Diego retorted back. He was right. Viktor wasn’t there. The venom Diego spoke with swam through Didi’s veins.

Viktor looked sadly at Diego. He shook his head and left, knowing when he was unwanted. Didi watched him walk away, feeling bitter that Viktor was never under the thumb of Reginald like the others. That Viktor would never have to carry the guilt of killing Ben.

“Nice going, asshole,” Luther commented.

“What? We were all thinking it.”

“Oh, so you’re thinking, Diego? That’s a damn first.” Allison bit back.

“Fuck you!” Diego walked away. Luther and Allison followed, continuing to argue.

“Hey! Dad was right.” Didi heard Luther say. “We should’ve done more. This didn’t have to happen.”

Didi turned to Klaus. She didn’t say anything. She walked over to him and hugged him. She held him for a while as he fell limp in her arms. She placed a gentle kiss on the middle of his forehead and left silently.

She didn’t like what she was about to do. She wasn’t sure it would equate to anything. 

Perhaps she didn’t do everything she possibly could to have saved Ben.

She didn’t tell Reginald.

Tell him now.

She walked through the once lively corridor. The sounds of Allison crying and Luther comforting her could be heard from behind Allison’s door.

Diego’s door was slammed shut as he muttered angrily.

Broken chords of a violin came from Viktor’s room to mask the sounds of his sobs.

Didi bypassed all of them to get to her room.

She pulled out the draw in her desk and fiddled around with the secret compartment. She knew the others were sneaky and had a bad habit of snooping on her private things.

She held three notebooks in her hands. The details and descriptions from the apocalypse.

Didi tore out the pages about Five and stuffed them back in the secret compartment. 1, it was embarrassing. She lovingly lamented far too much about him. 2, Reginald didn’t need to know.

She brushed by a concerned Grace on her way up to Reginald’s study. She threw a measly “sorry” behind her as she focused on the task at hand.

The stairs creaked loudly under her as if the house was mourning the loss of Ben as well. Didi didn’t have time to give it sympathy or pity. Exquisite pictures decorated the walls, and she noticed for the first time there were no pictures of the family or even Reginald.

She knocked rapidly on the study door. Clutching the notebooks tighter to her chest, her hands went clammy with nerves.

What if Reginald was upset she hadn’t told him earlier? What was she supposed to say? That she waited for Ben to die to confirm?

“Come in,” Reginald called out from behind the door. She opened the last barrier for her emotional safety and stepped into the office. She couldn’t be weak, not now.

“Yes, Number 8?” Reginald barely looked up from where he stood. He was filtering through manilla files in a cabinet, pulling them out at random and quickly skimming through. A few lay out on his desk.

“The world is going to end,” Didi stated. Reginald didn’t even turn to look at her. No shock, no surprise, nothing.

“You’re hardly the first person to tell me that, Number 8. I doubt you will be the last. When does this supposed apocalypse happen?”

“In 12 years.”

“So you and the academy will still be formidable enough to fight it.”

“Everyone dies, Sir. Even the academy.”

“Another failure to add to the ever-growing list. I had a lot of hope for you, Number 8. Although your powers are limited, I thought you would be determined enough to save Ben.”

Didi didn’t come here to be berated. She threw her notebooks down on the desk, relishing in the way Reginald turned around, surprised. His attention was on her.

“Whenever you’re done being a terrible father, try to be a good man.” Didi gestured to the notebooks and left.

She returned to the bedroom hallway and her ears were met with yelling. Allison and Luther stood in Diego’s doorway, Klaus leaning against the wall next to them. He took a large swig from his metal flask and motioned for Didi to come over. 

“Did you leave when Five died, Diego?” Luther asked angrily. Didi popped her head through Luther and Allison to see Diego stuffing a duffel bag with clothes and various knives. Leaving. 

“Five didn’t die,” Klaus interjected lamely. He took a deep drink from his flask. “He’s just gone.”

“Whatever happened to Five was his own damn fault. What happened to Ben was ours. We let him die.” Diego argued, slamming his hands down on his desk. He grabbed his duffel bag and pushed through everyone to leave his room.

“So we stay together, and we work to protect everyone, the world and ourselves.” Luther grabbed Diego by the shoulder. “We’re the Umbrella Academy.”

Diego pulled out a knife and brandished it up to Luther. “Let go of me.” Luther dejectedly listened. “You just want me to stay so I can be in your c-command, and you can pretend your anything like the great leader you wish you were. Grow up, Luther. There is no more Umbrella Academy. We failed.”

“What about Mom?” Allison cut in. Diego looked at the ground for a moment before meeting Allison’s eyes. He looked so angry but so scared. A seventeen-year-old leaving everything they’ve ever known because they believe they’re a failure. Because they let their brother die.

“She’ll have you guys, because you’re never leaving this place.” He spat out. He turned around the corner and disappeared. The four of them stood in silence, processing Diego leaving. The words he had said.

You’re never leaving this place.

“Diego!” Didi called out, chasing after him. She heard Allison call out bitterly to leave him alone, but Didi didn’t listen. She raced through the house, catching Diego in the foyer.

“Diego, wait!” She ran down the stairs, rolling her ankle in her haste before shifting the pain away. “Diego, where will you go?” She came to a stand-still in front of him. “What will you do?”

“I was going to join the police academy when I was 18, I’ll start early. Rent out a little apartment. I don’t need much.” His eyes were watery. Veins stood out against his neck as he tried to keep it together.

“You can’t leave without saying goodbye to Grace.”

“It’s easier this way.”

“No, Diego, that’s just an excuse. You’ll hate yourself for it later down the track. She deserves a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“Oh, Diego, she’s your mother. She loves you.”

Diego hung his head low as he and Didi went down to Grace’s kitchen. Didi stood outside the kitchen, giving Grace and Diego some space. The undeniable sounds of sniffling, the sweet soothing sounds from Grace, the quiet apologies from Diego.

Grace didn’t beg him to stay, just wished him well and let him know he always had a home at the Academy. Let him know she was proud of him, and whatever he does in the future will be amazing.

Didi followed Diego to the front door. His hand rested on the doorknob, the other fiddling with the buckle on his duffle bag.

“Come with m-me.” He said. “You could join the police force with me. We could create our own lives outside of here.”

“Diego, I can’t.” She thought about the looming apocalypse. She thought about the others. She thought about Ben.

“You could do so much better than here, Didi. You’re skilled, and smart, and more competent than the others. Please, come with me. I…” He looked so lost. “Please.”

It was laughable. Skilled, smart, and competent. She was useless. 

“What happened to Ben was my fault too.” She replied. “I can’t leave until I fix that.”

Diego looked at her, his eyes searching for any hint that Didi could be persuaded. For a hint he didn’t have to be alone. As much as it hurt Didi, she had to stay.

“I’m sorry, Diego.”

“I’m sorry, too. If you ever change your mind… I’ll get a phone number.”

He looked like he wanted to say more. Whatever it was lay rest on the tip of his tongue as he left the academy, the heavy door slamming shut behind him with a sharp thud.

Diego was gone.

Ben was dead.

Didi felt a tight pressure build-up behind her eyes. She willed it away, not wanting to cry when anyone could see her.

No one talked for the rest of the day. Didi hadn’t seen Viktor since the funeral. He didn’t make an appearance at dinner. They ate in silence, the food extra salty. Klaus was the only one who seemed ok, and Didi wondered if she could get in on whatever drugs he was high on.

They didn’t say goodnight to one another. No jokes at someone’s expense, no arguments, no surprising sentimental moment.

She wondered how Diego was doing on his first night away from home. She wondered if he’d just retreat, climb up the drainpipe and sleep in his own bed for the night.

Didi checked his bedroom, hoping to see him curled up under his blanket. The room was cold and empty. She heard heavy footsteps approaching.

“Go to bed, Didi,” Luther said from behind. “You'll need the rest; everything resumes back to normal tomorrow.”

“Are you happy about that?” She asked.

“No,” He admitted. “I’m not. Are you thinking of leaving?”

“Diego asked me to go with him. I said no.”

Didi gently shut Diego’s door and turned to Luther. His eyes had grey bags and his normal sense of leadership was gone. He smiled sadly, as if the news of Didi staying was something worth being happy about.

“Good night, Didi.”

“Night, Luther.”

Apocalypse, 2024.

Didi woke to the sunrise streaming through the windows of an abandoned restaurant. Five sat in the doorway, grinding up coffee beans to add to the water he was boiling outside. He looked tranquil, almost domestic. If it wasn’t for the mask hanging from his neck or the giant safety goggles resting on his forehead, Didi could imagine they were living some sort of ranch fantasy.

“Good morning, Five,” Didi said. Five smiled warmly at her. Didi’s eyes were drawn to his dimples, which had become more apparent as he grew up, although partly hidden by his scruff of a beard.

“Hey, Doll. How did you sleep?”

She doesn’t.

“Fine…” Didi can’t help but be suspicious of Five’s cheery attitude. “What’s got you all jolly?”

“Can’t I just be happy?”

“Unless it’s trigger-happy, no, I don’t think so.”

 Five put down the coffee beans and kneeled next to Didi. He looked ethereal in the sunlight, his emerald eyes stark against the shimmering orange. Didi’s heart would have lurched out of her chest at the mere sight of him like this if she had one.

“I made you something.” Five was excited. He pulled off the band on his wrist and showed it to Didi. She’d seen Five wear it before and it had always caught her eye. She’d asked questions about it but Five would brush it off.

“For me?” She asked. He nodded.

As she looked at it, it reminded Didi of a medical bracelet. A thin gold bar had been shaped into an arch with twigs and string pulled through the holes on the bar to make it a bracelet.

It was the second most beautiful thing Didi had seen.

“I love it, Five.”

“May I put it on you?”

“Please.”

He gently lifted her arm up and slipped the bracelet on. It was slightly too big, but it was perfect. His fingers lingered on her wrist. The warmth of him sent waves of giddiness through her that fought hard against the guilt she was feeling. How could she be happy when Ben was…

Five brought her chipped hand up and placed a kiss across her knuckles.

He was the first most beautiful thing. 

“I love you.”

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2024.

“I love you.”

The words tumbled out, unable to be caught and unable to be taken back.

Five and Didi stared at each other in shock. The soundwaves of the confession ricocheted loudly around the restaurant.

“You can’t possibly mean that.”

“Oh. Why not?”

Five was so close. His warm breath fanned against her cheeks, his hand still holding hers. His green eyes portrayed suspense teetering on fear.  

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That doesn’t really affect how I feel.”

“Babydoll, please.”

Didi didn’t know what Five was begging for. Whether he was asking her to stop, to understand him, or to convince him.

She’s lost in him. Lost in the way he talks to her. His loose strands that fall delicately in his eyes. His dimples planted by heaven itself. His Adam’s apple that bobs in nerves. His crackled laugh, his eye-rolls, his sharp stares. Him. All of him.

But she remembers where she is.

The events she’s just witnessed.

Who she’s talking to.

Who she just told she loves.

The confession Didi can’t take back.

“I’m sorry, Five. I should’ve kept waiting. It’s just, with the bracelet, I… I don’t know. I got caught up in the moment.”

Silence.

Only fools rush in.

Didi hadn’t even thought about the consequences when she said that.

She meant it, of course, and had for years.

But it was too much.

Why couldn’t she wait? Was she that stupid? That devoid of attention?

She felt like she was going to throw up.

“I created that moment. I thought this was what I wanted.” Five admitted. His hand was clammy in hers. She longed for the feel of his lips on her knuckles again.

Oh, my god.

She was a terrible person.

“You thought this was what you wanted?” She asked, her throat constricted.

“It’s more overwhelming than I thought it would be.”

Five had planned this. He wanted this. But it was suddenly too much when he finally had Didi, his precious Dolores, tell him what he wanted to hear.

Didi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled. Didi was opting for the latter. She felt a prickling sensation behind her eyes.

“You deserve more than a relationship out of comfort.” Five squeezed her hand and let go. Any moment they had, gone, because Didi couldn’t keep her stupid mouth shut.

She was getting fucking sick of it. She was tired of being a coward.

“If you love me, wanted to know if I love you, whatever. Stop deciding what’s good enough for me, though.”

Five stopped grinding the coffee beans. He looked ashamed and refused to meet Didi’s eyes.

“Pardon?”

“Whether you don’t love me, or you want me to keep waiting, or you’ll never be ready, tell me that. Stop giving me this bullshit of ‘Five isn’t good enough’. I am more than fucking capable of deciding what is good enough for me.”

“Dolores, I-”

“Look at me.”

Five was surprised. Didi was hardly this authoritative.

“I’ll never be what you want me to be.” He replied. He looked so torn.

“No, Five, only you think that. You’re already what I want you to be.”

“Do you mean that?”

If Didi had a body, she would have had to contain herself from throttling him.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean. I’m not a liar.” She said. And she believed that. The Hargreeves children had taught her about the thin line between lying and omitting the truth.  

“Of course.” Five poured the boiled water into the bean container. He stirred it once, twice, before blowing on it to cool it down.

The air was uneasy between them, but Didi didn’t have anything to say. She wasn’t going to save Five this time by cracking a joke, like she would often do. He was going to say something. He was going to affect the course of their relationship.

“Do you like coffee, Dolores?” Five asked. He wasn’t going to do shit, apparently. And she should have predicted that.

“No.” It reminded her too much of him. If a cup was ever brewed in the academy, Didi was promptly reminded of how Five wasn’t there.

“What do you like to drink?”

“White rum.”

“Ah. I think I’d be more of a wine person, personally.” Five drank his coffee till it burned his throat. He used the rest of the hot water to wash out the container and placed it back in the wheelbarrow. It was clear he wanted to move on, literally, and dropping the subject would be an added bonus Didi wasn’t sure she wanted to give him. He shuffled her out of the sleeping bag and left her on the floor.

Sure, she fucked up by telling Five she loved him. But he was being avoidant on whether he would ever be able to share those feelings, and he was determining what she was allowed to feel.

“Can I put you back in the wheelbarrow?”

“Sure.”

 “I’m sorry, are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“You’re giving me short answers.”

“That’s not a reason to be mad at you.”

“It’s proof that you’re mad at me.”

“But it’s not a reason.”

Five stood tall, snapped his goggles on his head, and pulled his beanie on tight. His pants sat high at his ankles, indicating another growth spurt. She remembered what happened the last time they went shopping for clothes. He almost kissed her.

And with Christmas, he created the beautiful gazebo with the phonograph and danced with her. The bracelet. A moment he created. Moments he wanted to have.

 “I’m sorry, Dolores, I really am.”

Didi could see how upset Five was. His freckled cheeks were blotchy, his face screwed up in regret. Didi loved to dance, but even she was getting tired of this tango.

“What are you sorry for?” She pushed. Her yearning heart wouldn’t allow her to leave it be.

“It’s unfounded to have these feelings for me.”

“Jesus Christ. So, what, are you calling me an idiot for having these feelings for you?” Didi was jumping to conclusions now.

“No! No, I’m not calling you an idiot. I said it’s unfounded.”

“Well, I’m calling you one.”

Five knelt down to her level. He tugged his goggles so they landed around his neck.

“You’re calling me an idiot?” He asked, his annoyance lanced with amusement.

“Yup. You, Five Hargreeves, are the dumbest person I have ever met.”

“I have genius-level intellect.” Five scoffed.

“You’re incredibly stupid.”

“You’re incredibly annoying.”

“You’re dense.” Didi retorted.

Five surged forwards.

His chapped lips pressed roughly into hers, his nose colliding with her cheek. For a second, for one blissful second, Didi felt alive as the energy jolted through her. His hand snaked around to hold the back of her head. He shuffled his body close, impossibly close, and Didi could feel his heart hammer through his chest. She uselessly hoped he could feel hers too.

Five snapped away, his mouth parted slightly and his chest heaving. His pupils were blown wide as they ran over Didi’s face.

“You’re a nightmare, Babydoll.” He whispered. “You drive me insane.”

“Yeah?” It was as if Five had taken all the oxygen from her non-existent lungs, and all she wanted to breathe was him.

“Yeah.” He repeated, murmuring on her lips as he moved in closer again. “I love you too.”

Maybe they could be fools together.

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2006.

Didi stared at the pointless words until they swam around the page. Some book they were required to study, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, let alone remember the title. She was unsure of what the point of the Academy Education was anymore, with Klaus never paying attention and Allison hardly present. It was just her and Luther half the time, but Didi’s determination to succeed had diminished alongside…

A knock on the open door pulled Didi from her thoughts. Everyone’s head swivelled to Pogo, standing in the doorway, impeccably dressed as always. Viktor let out a quiet gasp.

Whoops.

Didi had forgotten he was still here.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but Master Reginald would like to speak with Miss Dolores.” He stated, holding his hands behind his back.

“Ooh, you’re in trouble,” Klaus whispered obnoxiously.

“Klaus,” Luther warned but Didi was already swiping his novel and throwing it as hard as she could in the bin as she followed behind Pogo. She heard hurt gasps from Klaus and the bin topple over, but she didn’t care. It was a reoccurring pattern as of late.

She was jealous of Klaus. He seemed so unphased by…

Taking her anger out on him seemed fair, especially when he was high. He wouldn’t remember. Klaus didn’t care.

“Why does Reginald want to see me?” Didi asked Pogo. She kept in step with him as they walked through the mansion, careful not to move too fast due to his short legs.

“You’re not in trouble if that’s what you’re worried about. I think it’s best if Master Reginald explains it for himself.”

Didi wasn’t worried about being in trouble before, but now she was. But she hadn’t done anything except take sleeping pills since…

It was a surprise to find Reginald’s office door open. Reginald sat behind his desk, his eyebrows strewn together in intense thought. His anger was barely hidden behind his golden monocle.

Didi hesitantly walked in. Pogo shut the door and stood behind her.

“Number 8,” Reginald announced. He was studying her notebooks. “You have presented me with a so-called man-made apocalypse.” He placed his pen down and scrutinized her. “Plainly, Number 8, why should I believe you?”

“It’s difficult to explain.” Didi sat down in the plush chair opposite the desk. The chair was low to the floor, and Didi felt powerless like she was 14 again seeing Reginald for the first time. Powerless like the day…

“For God’s sake, child, try. Apparently, the fate of the world rests on you.”

Didi clasped her hands together, nervous. She looked at Pogo, but he was emotionless. His usual sad, encouraging smile was gone.

So she began the best she could.

“I have the, uhm, fight or flight response to turn into a mannequin. When my body is dying, I turn into a mannequin to protect myself. It’s involuntary, I’m sure you know.”

Reginald motioned for her to continue.

“I have… dreams. Well, no, not really dreams, Sir. I, uhm… I see the apocalypse from my mannequin form. I don’t die, exactly. Because I can’t. So I’ve been living in a dream of the apocalypse for the past 3 or so years.”

“There are a large number of pages missing from these notebooks, Number 8. Why is that?”

“Personal diary entries, Sir. I didn’t think you would care for them.”

“I would if they contained more information about the apocalypse. You claim that the moon exploding is the cause of the apocalypse.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And the glass eyeball belongs to the person responsible for destroying the moon.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And just what does Number 5 have to do with this?”

“Number… what?”

Didi swore she tore every page about Five out. How could she have been so stupid as to miss one?

“There are three pages amongst these notebooks detailing how Number 5 is present in the apocalypse with you. What role does he play in this hypothetical apocalypse?”

How could she be so stupid as to miss three goddamn pages??

“He, Five, uhm, travelled through time and, well, found himself trapped in the… apocalypse. Sir.”

Reginald and Pogo shared a knowing look. Didi didn’t understand what it meant. Reginald seemed pleased to hear about Five, but whether it was that he was still alive or that Reginald was right about his warnings, Didi didn’t know.

“That will be all, Number 8.” Reginald dismissed her. Pogo was already opening the door for her.

“Will you stop it?” Didi asked. It was an unauthorised question, perhaps a stupid one. Perhaps she should have had more faith in Reginald.

“Number 8, what kind of a question is that?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Did I not raise an academy to fight evil forces? To defend the world at whatever substantial cost?”

But faith was a hard thing to come by. Why would Reginald do anything, when he had an academy at his disposal? The Umbrella Academy?

An academy that couldn’t even save themselves?

An academy that couldn’t…

She remembers the horrified looks on everyone’s faces when they returned from that mission. She remembered scrubbing off blood from her hands that wasn’t hers. No one alive was bleeding.

Didi meekly nodded her head. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks.

“Do not tell the other academy members about this. It will be known in due time. Thank you.”

“Can I have my notebooks back, please?”

Reginald nodded and Pogo took them off the table and handed them to Didi. She followed Pogo out of the office, her heart rate calming down.

“Pogo? I’m worried.” She said as they passed a corner. Pogo wasn’t much help in that office, but if the three of them were to be the only ones who knew about the apocalypse, she had to confide in someone.

“What are you worried about, Miss Dolores?” He made sure the hallway was clear and lowered his volume. Didi realised he was worried too.

“The apocalypse. I don’t – I don’t know how to stop it. What if we don’t? Why doesn’t Reginald want the rest of the academy to know?”

“Your father is a brilliant man. All will make sense in time.”

That man was not her father. That man was merely a caregiver by title, torturer by manner. Pogo was more like her father than Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

Didi had a father. She was raised with a family. A family she can’t remember.

“You sound so sure.”

“I have to be, Miss Dolores.”

The Umbrella Academy’s garden was an exquisite place. Shrubbery delicately adorned the area, with flowers of a thousand colours decorating the walls and paths. Didi enjoyed watching the trees change colour with the seasons but didn’t like the reminder of the passage of time.

She hated the garden now. It was filled with memories of standing around his closed casket. Now a statue stood in its place. Although it was snowing, the frost did little to cover his statue, to shield him from the horrors of the world, let alone the horrors that lived inside him.

They sat under the gazebo, the four of them. The distance between Allison and Luther was highly noticeable, although no one commented on it. Klaus offered Didi a sip from his flask but she declined, gently kicking his hand away as he sprawled out on the floor.

They’d just returned from a mission. She remembered this one in full. An underground drug ring the police didn’t have enough information on to take down. The academy did it for them. Allison nursed a sprained ankle, the only major injury. Normally, they’d celebrate a job well done. Instead, they thought how much their team had lost.

“What do you think Diego’s doing?” Klaus asked. “Got an apartment, started training, or he’s completely dropped out and is living on the streets because we’ve got no life skills?”

“You’ll be on the streets,” Didi said with an eye roll.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Allison muttered. “Maybe he had the right idea, to leave this place.”

Surprisingly, Luther didn’t fight her on it. He sat silently on the ornate stone bench opposite the girls.

“Oh yeah?” Klaus slurred. “What would you do? Go be Little Miss Hollywood?”

“Only A-list celebrities actually make money, Ally,” Didi said.

“Good thing I’ve got my rumor, then.”

They all sat in that uncomfortably. Luther shifted in his seat as if he was about to leave. 

“Hey, hey guys! What Spice Girl would we be?” Klaus interrupted the silence. “I’d be Posh Spice, I think. Didi would be Baby Spice because she’s the newest.”

“There’s only four of us, Klaus. There are five Spice Girls.” Allison sighed.

“Viktor’s still here,” Luther spoke for the first time. Didi sat up straighter. She’d forgotten about Viktor again. The feeling immediately fell to her stomach and erupted into guilt.

“Are we sure about that? I haven’t seen him in a while.” Klaus lazily sat up on the floor.

“Have you looked for Viktor?”

“Have you got your head out of Dad’s ass?”

“I’m not taking life advice from someone who hasn’t been sober in years.”

“Ooh, really got me there, Number 1.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Mm, something we can agree on.”

“Stop it!” Allison stood up quickly. She eyed both the boys before turning her attention to Luther. “Diego’s gone, so now you’ll argue with Klaus?”

“Posh Spice contender number 2, we just agreed on something.” Klaus countered.

“You both need to grow up. And you, Didi.” She pointed angrily at Didi. Didi could see the tears threatening to spill in Allison’s eyes, her nostrils flaring as she spoke. “Stop mopping around. It’s not going to fucking bring him back.”

“Geez, Allison.” Klaus groggily got up from the floor. He spilled his flask over his slacks as he sat up, wincing a little at the contact.

“I know you’re not going to start with me, Klaus. I lug your drunk and high ass all the time. Do you think I enjoy that? You think I enjoy cleaning up the vomit, checking in on you at night to make sure you haven’t overdosed in your sleep, worried you’re going to die like… like Ben?”

It was the first time Didi had heard his name since the funeral. And to be spoken in such an aggressive tone, thrown out as a comparison and not treated like the human he… was.

“Terrible. You’re all pathetic in your own right.” Allison left the garden.

Didi snatched the flask from Klaus and gulped it all down, the burn in her throat nothing compared to her heart.

Stop mopping around, Allison had said. As if it was just his loss and not the cause that affected Didi.

“Do you think she’s packing her bags too?” Klaus asked. “I was planning on leaving when she did. Go to Hollywood, shack up with some rich director and be set for life.”

Didi would normally respond that Klaus wasn’t hot enough to be a sugar baby, and then he’d say it’s not what you have by the way you use it with a sly wink, but there was no energy.

“If she leaves, that’s the Umbrella Academy done,” Luther replied. He looked like a puppy that had been kicked down. In a way, he was.

“I’m going to go check on her.”

“She just went off on you, Klaus.”

“Yeah, so she’ll be proper apologetic now. I’ll see if she’s leaving.”

Klaus sauntered back into the house, stumbling slightly over the wet grass and slick path.

It was just Didi and Luther now. The Ape and the Chameleon, if she remembered correctly. They had to be the last two to leave the academy.

It was a weird feeling, knowing how things ended but never knowing the events that led up to them.

“If there’s no academy, would you stay?” She asked quietly. Luther shrugged and looked back at the mansion. Shadows moved in the windows, but it was probably just Grace cleaning. Before everything, it could have been anyone. Diego or Luther training, Ben running from Klaus, Allison and Didi sneaking around to eavesdrop. Pogo even, coming to tell the children off for their ruckus.

“The world would still need saving,” Luther responded. “Would you?”

“The world would still need saving.” She repeated. “Someone has to.”

“Someone has to.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re Sporty Spice.”

“You think so?”

“Who else is it going to be?”

Who else was going to save the world?

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2024.

Didi hasn’t ever been on a date, exactly. If other people were in her situation, they might say she absolutely had, remembering how Five whisked her around the gazebo, but Didi was particular. Precise. Annoyingly so.

To her, dates had to have nerves build to the point of wanting to vomit. There was stress about what to wear, what to say, where to go. She had never really felt that with Five. Of course, she’d felt nervous but never stressed.  

By that logic, Didi supposed the closest thing she’d ever had to a date was when she accidentally walked in on Luther setting one up in the attic for him and Allison. She stayed and watched as Luther started to swipe his hands on his pants to get rid of the sweat. Seeing her “fearless” leader get so freaked out made her get anxious too. Was Allison going to like it? What if she wanted to kiss? What if she wanted more? What was Luther going to wear? How was he going to fuck it up? Because it wasn’t an if – he was going to fuck it up. Didi would hear the how from both parties, willingly or not.

Similar thoughts ran through Didi’s head now.

What was she going to wear?

The same stuff she always did, despite how much it must have reeked of smoke. She pondered asking Five to get her new clothes again, but since the development of their relationship, it felt too charged.

What was she going to say?

Whatever it would take to make him laugh, to make him kiss her again.

What was she going to do?

What could she do?

Was he going to like her?

They’re already past that. The memory is burnt into her mind forever.

What if he wanted to kiss?

Fuck, she hoped so.

What if he wanted more?

Null. She didn’t have the body to do more.

Didi really hoped Five wasn’t a legs guy. Or an ass guy. Or anything that wasn’t a plastic torso with one arm guy.

But it was deeper than that, and Didi knew it. It wasn’t her expressionless face with chipped lips and a missing ear that drew him in. It wasn’t her melted body with squeaky joints that made him fall for her.

It was her.

Her personality.

Those silly rom-coms were right about something.

Love goes beyond looks.

“Red or white?” Five asked as he pulled deep green bottles freckled with plaster off the shelf. A run-down bottle-o, a decaying corpse trapped behind the counter with a smell strong enough to have Five pull his mask tightly around his face.

“Hm?” She asked, slowly processing him. Five turned to face her with what had to be a smirk under his mask. His thick eyebrows were raised slightly, his eyes teasing.

“To drink. Red or white wine?”

“It has to be red.”

“Why does it have to be red?”

“White wine should be chilled. Red is fine at room temperature.”

“Red it is.”

He carried the bottle and Didi out of the store as quickly as he could. He drummed his fingers against her waist. Maybe he was just as nervous as she was. That made her feel better.

“Fucking putrid out here. Reminds me of my brothers.” Five joked. “You’re lucky you can’t smell.”

“I think you’re lucky I can’t smell. Because you’d have to reek.”

“Mm, must be on account of the no running water.”

“And yet you’re running your mouth.”

“I’ll give your mouth something better to do.”

“Oh! Uh, that...” Didi was lost. Where the fuck did that come from?

“Heh, gotcha.” Five sang lowly and chuckled as he gently placed Didi and the bottle back into the wheelbarrow. He swerved away from the stores and strolled down the road, weaving through bodies and debris.

“You’d be really good with drunk people,” Didi said without thinking.

“Why, because I can place you down, Doll?”

“You’ve got a nice balance between humour and empathy.”

“Do you find that... attractive?”

“Honestly? You could cause the apocalypse and I’d still... love you.”

Didi saw the blush creep over the bandana. Didi let out a chuckle of her own.

“It’s from Klaus. I’d take care of him now and again. I think Dad was the harshest to him.” Five explained. Didi had to wonder if that was still the truth. “It was mainly Allison and Ben, but sometimes we’d all have to help out when he got really bad.”

“Who takes care of him in the future?”

“Allison, for a while. Then she gets married-”

“To Luther?!”

“No, some random guy. Patrick. Once Allison was married, Klaus just became a full-on addict with no support.”

“You can’t believe everything the media tells you.”

“This isn’t from a magazine – my brother wrote a book. Viktor. I can read it to you, if you want.” He offered.

Knowing the future wouldn’t change the future. Didi thought back to that book on time travel she discovered buried in the Hargreeves library.

You think you may have stumbled upon a loophole by having a friend travel forward in time, where you have now not lived events but know what they are. These events will still happen. If events are lived by anyone, they will still occur.

Knowing how the academy ends up won’t change how the academy lives. Knowing that Ben was to die wouldn’t save him.

“Sure, Five. I’d like that.”

Five sat cross-legged in front of her, the red picnic blanket adorned with the phonograph, cans, and his gun. His hair was freshly washed again, and his face was free of dirt. New clothes, Didi noticed, but still the same sort of thermal active wear he always wore. His camouflage bandana hung loosely around his neck.

“You know, I’ve been trying to jump. I’m not getting anywhere.” He said between mouthfuls of canned fruit. “No matter the time or distance I’m aiming for, nothing seems to work. I can’t even tell if my math is wrong. I can’t test it.”

“Because your powers are dead.”

“Exactly. I can feel a tingle every now and again, but I need a solid vibration to actually jump. And it would be so stupid to think that my powers are tied to the moon, but... anything is possible.”

“You don’t believe your powers are connected to the moon.”

“The moon’s gone, and so are my powers.” He shrugs and takes another spoonful of fruit. “Do you want some?”

Didi laughs as Five offers her an empty spoon. She sighs in contentment.

“Five, if we could have this date in the real world, where would you take me?”

“I’d want to see where you came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your accent – you’re not American. Australian. What the media presents as Australian, anyway.”

“You can hear my accent?”

Five narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Am I not supposed to?” He asked, concern creeping in his voice. He uncorked the wine, grimacing at the strong fruity smell.

“I didn’t know what you heard.” Didi tried to explain. “I’m from Brisbane, actually.”

“Brisbane? Hollywood's Australia. That’s where Number Eight was from as well.”

Shit.

“Yeah? What does Viktor’s book say about her?”

Five’s features became clouded. Does Five hate her? The human her?

“She was my replacement. Viktor said no one knew if she was filling the hole I left or if she was just that much like me, but she was my replacement. She took on the strongest qualities of the other academy members as they grew up – often the worst ones.”

She took on the worst qualities of the academy. Was that how Viktor saw her right now?

“That’s not the worst thing,” Five continued. He took a sip from the wine bottle. “Fucking hell, what is this?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know what’s meant to be right with it.” He took another sip, a longer one this time.

“You’re meant to slosh it around your mouth, Five. To savour it.”

He made a big show of letting the wine ruminate in his mouth, puffing his cheeks out in thought, before drinking more wine.

“She cried for me. Number Eight didn’t even know me, but she cried for me.”

“Why is that bad?”

“I don’t need some strangers' pity.” He scoffed. “I didn’t need anything from her.”

“What happens when she leaves?” Didi asked hesitantly. Whatever the answer was, it was going to happen, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

She had to know.

Five placed the bottle in his lap and pulled out the book from the wheelbarrow. He skimmed through it, thumbing at the ratty bookmarks left in it.

“Says she became a dancer and used her Hargreeves money to open a thrift store and soup kitchen. She cut contact with the rest of the academy at 25, the same time Luther went on an unspecified mission. Apparently, she and Luther became quite close once everyone left the academy.”

“Do you really feel that Number Eight replaced you?”

Five sighed and closed the book.

“I’m sure Dad had a reason for it. Seems she was strong enough to survive the academy and come out ok. The same can’t be said for the rest of them.”

Five threw the book back into the wheelbarrow, clearly not wanting to talk about it anymore. That was fine with Didi, she had enough to think about. Why would she cut everyone off? They’re her family. What happened?

“I’m sorry, Five.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” He unknowingly lied. Didi hadn’t chosen to be a member of the Umbrella Academy, but she embraced it. She didn’t take anything from Five, she just moulded herself into his life. Apparently moulded herself into Five as well.

Five ran a bony hand through his long hair, pulling an elastic from his wrist to tie it up in a ponytail. A few freshly washed strands fell out across his forehead. He smiled at Didi when he noticed her staring.

“You can come closer if you want. This is a date.” She reminded him. Five shuffled closer, sitting next to her with his arm outstretched behind Didi to support himself.

Didi couldn’t see the similarities between them. He was smart, chillingly optimistic for the trauma he’d gone through. Yet she’d never seen him smile once in the photos and paintings that decorated the academy halls. He was resilient, resourceful, and creative. Number Eight was the worst of the academy.

She could see her reflection swim in his eyes. They were different, but they understood each other. And if she was bad, she’d become better.

His eyes flickered down to her lips, asking for permission he already had. She’d nod if she could. She’d wrap her fingers in his hair and tug him close. She’d feel his chapped lips adapt to hers, his nose brush soft like a feather, his hands open in surprise before finding a home on her waist. She’d trace his scars, count the freckles she’d only seen flutter around his neck and arms when he rolled up his sleeves. She’d relish in touching his skin.

But she couldn’t do anything like that.

The thought struck her for the first time. She’d always been so optimistic before when Five and she were nothing but friends. That one day they’d meet, and she could tell him how she felt. And she would touch him, caress his cheek with her physical hand, physically show her love.

What if they never meet?

Didi enjoyed what she could.

“Do you want to kiss me?” She asked. She tried to place humour in it to hide her despair. It might have worked on anyone else.

“Second to wanting you happy.” It didn’t work on Five. “What are you thinking?”

“I wish I was real.”

“Is what you feel for me real?”

“Of course.”

He placed a kiss on her temple.

“That’s all I want.”

Chapter Text

Umbrella Academy, 2007.

Didi fiddled with the sleeves of her jumper as she sat cross-legged on Allison’s bed. Not from nerves, just to give her something to do. Something to occupy her mind. Luther sat hesitantly next to her, the bed dipping low from his weight. Didi spied Viktor in the corner of the room, head down and clearly uncomfortable. Didi wondered if Viktor had ever been in any of their rooms before. She patted the mattress in front of her, inviting Viktor to sit down with them. Viktor gave a small, grateful smile as he joined the others.

The worst traits of the academy.

Klaus painted Allison’s nails while she flipped through celebrity magazines with her other hand. They chatted loudly, their laughs filling the room. Didi joined in occasionally, just content to remain with everyone as they were.

However long it would last.

“30 minutes left!” Allison reminded everyone. Luther had moved to turn on the stereo Allison had nestled behind stuffed animals. ABBA’s greatest hits flooded the room as Viktor tapped his feet in time to the rhythm.

Luther sat back down on the bed, beginning to feel more comfortable.

“Eighteen!” He ventured out. “How do we feel?”

“Could legally drink in Australia.” Didi quipped.

“Nothing’s stopping you from taking a swig right now, Skippy.” Klaus offered, pointing to the various liquor bottles next to the array of cupcakes Grace had made that morning.

The fireball shot burned Didi’s throat on the way down. She offered the bottle to the others, surprised when Viktor took it from her.

“Might as well, while we’re still all together.” He spoke. Didi knew what he meant. He recoiled immediately as he took the shot, the burp leaving his mouth sounding like a threat for it to come back up.

No one wanted to talk about the elephant in the room.

Allison was leaving.

And since no one wanted to talk about it, no one knew when Allison was leaving. Was it tomorrow? Was it 5 months from now? Five had just said Allison was 18 when she left.

But whenever Allison was leaving, Klaus was going with her. Didi didn’t know how long that would last, but if Klaus stayed any longer, Reginald would kick him out. Permanently. He might as well leave on his own accord.

“I want to play some games before it’s not cool to play them anymore,” Klaus whined.

“I don’t think you can outgrow games,” Luther commented.

“Oh, Number One – you would have been so bullied in a normal school.”

Allison barked out a laugh. “You would have been bullied too, Klaus.”

“A supplier doesn’t get bullied.”

“They will if they get high off their own supply.”

“Nope. Too sober for this.”

“You’re not sober at all!”

“I’m sober enough that there are only two of you, not four.”

“Klaus!”

“Ok, drinking game. Never have I ever.”

They formed an excited circle, Luther opting for a weak vodka lemonade. Klaus was drinking straight from the tequila bottle, the sombrero lid placed delicately on his fluffy curls.

“Never have I ever... Fuck, this is hard. Someone else go.” Klaus swung his bottle around.

“Never have I ever hidden Dad’s monocle.” Allison started. She took a sip from her cup and widened her eyes as no one else drank. “Really?”

“Ally, he never takes the damn thing off. How did you do that?” Didi asked. Allison just shrugged.

“Ok, never have I ever poisoned a sibling.”

“Klaus, you can’t poison people.”

“It’s no biggie, Luther. I snuck a little satay sauce in Ben’s soup once.”

“Why?”

“I thought he was allergic to peanuts. He wasn’t.” Klaus turned his head and stared at the wall for a brief moment. “It’s not in bad taste. The soup tasted fine.”

“Never have I ever thought another... academy member was attractive.”

Didi drank instinctively. She looked up to everyone’s eyes on her.

Allison punched the air and excitedly shook Viktor, causing him to spill his drink. Luther stared with eyebrows raised, while Klaus had a shit-eating grin.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Klaus teased.

“NO. No, it’s fucking Diego!” Allison shouted.

“No!” Didi cried.

“Yes! What was it? His terrible one-liners, or the way he always had a weapon strapped to himself?”

“Oh, Skippy’s into rough play? Kinky.”

“Bite me, Klaus.”

“Would you be into that, BDidiSM?”

“Will you just let Didi explain herself?”

“There has to be an explanation, no one would willingly think Diego is attractive.”

Didi held out a hand to stop the talking.

“Yeah, let BDidiSM speak,” Klaus said sarcastically and laid his head on Luther’s shoulder. Luther tensed slightly from the contact. Klaus pushed his bottle up to Luther’s mouth and tried to get him to drink before being swatted away.

“Ok.” Didi stared at her still full cup. “If I just finish my drink, do I have to answer?”

“No, you can finish your drink.”

“Ally, that’s not how you play!” Klaus whined.

Didi made a big show of finishing her drink, rum and coke dribbling down her chin. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as Allison smiled at her, that sickening one that had Didi’s stomach clench.

“I heard a rumor you couldn’t shift for the next 5 minutes.”

Didi’s vision struck white, and her body began to sweat. She heard the gasps of the academy, a protest from a deep voice that floated through the air. She couldn’t grasp it, she felt like she was floating painfully, her skin burning as it tried to shift Allison’s hold away.

“I heard a rumor you told us who’s attractive.”

All this for a fucking confession?

The words were painfully ripped out of her throat like sharp blades slicing her insides.

“Five.” Her mouth bled out. She slapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from talking.

The others stared at her in dismay. Luther accepted the drink Klaus kept trying to get him to take.

“That was the one answer I wasn’t expecting.”

“Didi, he’s like, 13.”

“Take the rumour off me.” Didi pleaded.

“Tell us more about Five.”

“Please, Allison.”

“No.”

Didi rubbed off some drink that had stayed trapped in the corner of her mouth but was surprised to find a deep red blot on her thumb. She was bleeding.

“Why are you having such a weird reaction to the rumor? Is it because your body is trying to shift it away?” Allison asked, now concerned. Didi didn’t want her worry. She only slowly nodded and spit the build-up of blood out into her cup. It was thick, mixed with phlegm and smelt metallic. Allison sighed and reached out to rub Didi’s back.

“I heard a rumor you could shift.”

Didi recoiled from Allison and shifted into her body from the beginning of the day. Her hair fell out of its hold, bobby pins falling to the ground. Her party dress was mismatched from her face now bare of makeup and only sporting sunken bags under her eyes.

Still 15 minutes left till they turn 18.

Didi wouldn’t mind if Allison left now.

“Happy birthday.” Didi placed her bloody drink down and stormed off to her room. She could hear them arguing as she walked out, and again as she walked past now dressed in her active wear. She made her way down to the training room, choosing to block out the bickering.

It took a second for her vision to adjust to the bright lights as she switched them on. A mirror ran along the wall next to the door, normally covered with benches and scorecards. She set a timer on her watch for midnight. 10 minutes.

She ran at the punching bag. She watched her form in the mirror, noticing the way her minimal muscles flexed under her clothes. She would always shift when she was in pain. She never built the same figure compared to the rest of the academy. She’d ask for that test to see how much older she was than her body, but she was afraid of the result. Afraid of letting Reginald experiment on her.

She kept attacking, determined to not shift no matter how much her wrists protested and how much her knuckles began to scuff and crack. Her heart thundered in her chest. Only she should get to decide when to shift.

Her feet ached, red and raw from the bag. Her knuckles had been shaved and were bleeding. She didn’t allow herself to shift.

1 minute left.

“Good form, Didi.”

She whipped her head around to the door to see Luther standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. His voice sounded sore and cracked as he spoke. He didn’t look like he’d been crying, but he wasn’t great.

“They sent you to talk to me?”

“I chose to see you. I didn’t want you to celebrate turning 18 by yourself.”

She landed one last blow to the punching bag, a strong hit to its throat. Surprisingly, the bag wobbled for the first time since she’d hit it. She rubbed the broken skin on her knuckles and made her way to Luther, the cold floor acting as a pain relief for her feet.

Luther smiled as he held out a cupcake for her, another in his other hand for him.

“I can explain the Five thing,” Didi said as she took the cupcake.

“Do you want to?”

She’d left the whole future up to Reginald. Would it hurt to tell Luther? It wouldn’t change the future, it would just scare him.

“When I saw you guys on the news before I joined, I thought he was cute.” Not a total lie, but not the truth that would have come out.

“Even in the mask?” He asked.

“I’m a sucker for a hero.”

Didi’s alarm went off, the high-pitched short rings bringing in a new day. A new year. A new era for the Umbrella Academy.

“Happy birthday, Didi.”

“Happy birthday, Luther.”

She took a bite into the cake, icing catching on the tip of her nose. She looked at Luther and saw a similar fate.

“You told me a secret, can I tell you one, now?”

“Fair’s fair.”

“I thought geography books were lying about Australia till I was 10.”

Didi laughed, mouth full of vanilla fluff.

“What do you mean? You thought Australia was fake?”

“You drive on the wrong side of the road, you have a mammal that lays eggs, all of the deadliest wildlife in one place, and you had a prime minister drown. I just didn’t understand how that could be true. How can platypus exist?”

“Wait till you hear about drop bears.”

“What? What is a drop bear?”

She patted Luther heartily on the back before shoving the rest of the dessert into her mouth. 

11 more years before certain death.

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2024/2025

If it weren’t for the unfounded sliver of hope that he could return to the past, Five probably would have killed himself. The gun that was always with him was tantalising, beckoning him to hold the barrel once again to his temple and pull the trigger.

He’d thought it before. It had only been 6 days into the apocalypse. He’d walked through a towering abandoned building to get some height, to see just how much of the area was destroyed.

But he found nothing. Destruction, as far as the eye could see. Dead bodies reaching for one another and crushed by fallen buildings.

Nothing to live for.

He thought of jumping. 

He’d scolded himself for the next two weeks, eyeing every jagged rock and sharp object that could end whatever this was. Too weak to die, too weak to escape.

But there was still the hope that he could return. That sliver, the vibrations that pulsed through him now and again. Like pins and needles, a bittersweet and painful reminder that he was alive.

Then something stronger than hope came along.

No matter how much his stomach roared, the random bruises that peppered his skin caused pain, or the burn of the rubbing alcohol as he desperately avoided infection, he did it to stay alive.

For the hope to return.

And for her.

Everything for her.

He didn’t recognise himself anymore whenever he passed a shattered window, showing his pitiful reflection. Surface level scrapes and deep cuts ran over his body. Scars that never healed properly peaking out from wherever they could. He was skinny, the lack of nutrients taking a toll on his frame. If he dared to look at himself bare for longer than 2 seconds, he would see the sharp line of bones protruding at his ribs, stretch marks ascending vertically across his spine from sharp growth over pale skin. Malnourished.

He was even going gray, as Dolores had so lovingly pointed out to him. He’d stopped pulling them out in fear he’d go bald. He was barely eighteen.

Dolores had brought up the idea of settling somewhere. She said they could grow food, now that the grass and weeds were spilling out of the ground again. Five didn’t know much about gardening. He was also afraid of settling down.

Settling down meant giving up on finding the cause of the apocalypse.

Settling down meant giving up on returning.

But settling down with Dolores...

Hope comes in different forms.

“Darling,” She pondered one night. “Have you ever heard of ‘if the future is lived, it has to happen.’?”

“That’s Back to the Future.”

“No.”

“Back to the Future 2.”

“No, Five.”

“Are there any other Back to the Future films?”

“It’s not from a film.” She laughed. He brought his body closer to hers, peering at the night sky through the front window of the storefront they were camping in.

“‘If the future is lived, it has to happen’?”

“Yes.”

“You’re saying even if I return to the past, the apocalypse will still happen?”

“That’s what the quote implies, yeah.”

Five placed a kiss where her jaw connected with her neck. He took note of the swallowed sound she made.

“Whoever said that never met a time traveller.”

Every morning was the same routine. Very rarely was Dolores awake before him, so he’d start with a stretch that made all his joints pop, make sure his gun was loaded, crush whatever coffee beans he had up and relight the fire to boil water. Toothbrush used bone-dry with toothpaste, too afraid to waste water.

Never did he have to get dressed, unless it was a particularly cold morning that required a jacket. But never had he woken up next to Dolores before, his skin sticking with his sweat to her, sharp red marks indented in his chest and what might have been a bite mark in her neck. She groaned as she stirred, as if upset with the loss of warmth as Five pried himself away. 

He hastily shoved his body back in his clothes, the cold air nipping at his exposed skin. He’d caught glimpses of his skin stretched tightly over bones, dark freckles standing out obnoxiously against his porcelain skin. He never used to be that pale. Marks left by siblings he used to remember so fondly now covered by the horrors of the apocalypse.

From then on, the morning routine varied.

The thought to kill himself still crossed his mind ever so often. He wouldn’t follow through, could never bring himself to, but now and again some weapon would catch his eye.

More grass grew from the destroyed dirt. The rain would fall heavily, if not snowing, and Five and Dolores would watch from the safety of blankets in whatever place they bunkered down for in the night.

Some days were spent travelling to wherever Five wanted, for however long he could walk. Some days made him feel like he was wasting away. Other days were simpler, with only one objective in mind.

Home.

Dolores would be propped against the wall and Five sprawled out on the floor with his novel, a notebook, and some pens strewn around. They would argue about equations, trying their best to find a way for Five to get back.

“Did you remember to square it, Darling?”

“Yes, of course I fucking remembered to square it.”

“Drop kick.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. You forgot to carry over the 9.”

“No I fucking- oh.”

He scrawled over the paper with the change.

It was hard for him to concentrate sometimes. His vision was beginning to blur, dry eyes strained from the dust circling around if he didn’t wear his goggles. He always felt hungry, some joint was always screaming in pain.

He’d trailed different weapons over time, just to see what he could do. An axe, hung low at his feet as he relied on muscles forcibly built by his father to swing the thing around. Sharp knives that clattered against the wall when he threw them, never quite impaling on the right angle. Slingshots, javelins, bow and arrows. He’d even made a bomb. He didn’t get far enough away from the explosion as asphalt and glass sliced through his skin. It was his own fault, he’d remind himself, as the sting of rubbing alcohol and the residue of the bandage sunk into his skin.

Days started to melt into one another. It wasn't until Dolores wished him a happy birthday that he realised a whole year had passed.

Five popped the lid off the vodka bottle, taken aback by the intense smell.

“Shelf life of vodka is long. Right?” He asked.

“One way to find out.”

“Happy nineteenth.”

Five smiled and tentatively sipped it. It burnt his tongue harshly, absorbed by his tongue rather than going down his throat.

“If you’re not mixing it, you need to properly shot it.”

“My little alcoholic.” He coughed out.

He wouldn’t have too much, he didn’t want to waste time dealing with a hangover. He threw his head back as he drank, ignoring the burn in favor of finding out the results.

Five paused.

The world slowed down around him. He could see each individual spark from the fire, the smoke making its deliberate puffs upwards. The clouds rolled slowly above him, illuminated only by the twinkling stars that seemed to shine brighter than when he first arrived.

He felt it.

The numbers swirled in his head, pounding loudly and desperate to be used.

He felt it.

The alcohol coursing through, ready to release his inhibitions.

He felt it.

The vibrations.

Strong, stronger than ever.

As strong as they had been the day he left.

He trained his bleary sight on the shattered remains of a lamppost across the park.

He felt it.

He blinked through space.

Chapter Text

The Umbrella Academy, 2007/2008.

“Hi, welcome to the Temps Commission, this is Dottie! How may I connect your call today?”

Allison and Klaus had left. Allison received a phone call from a casting agent, and she was gone. Didi wasn’t even aware she’d been auditioning.

It was a stale moment, when Allison grasped Didi’s hands and wished her a goodbye. It seemed painfully rehearsed, just like the very first hello Didi ever heard from Allison. I’ll miss you, she said. I love you. You’re my sister. All Didi could remember were the razors in her throat. Maybe she could forgive one day. But the bitter resentment hung heavy in her heart.

“Is this-? Please, stop calling. We can’t help you.”

Klaus wasn’t much better. He seemed so unsure of everything, excited for a world where he was in charge of his own choices but hesitant on what to do. Allison gave as many orders as Luther, so Klaus would never have to think for himself.

He was teary when he said goodbye. He pulled them all in for a group hug, his tear-stained cheek pressed firmly against Didi. His breath smelt of burning liquor and smoke.

Klaus made a jerk off motion to Reginald as he and Allison walked out the front door. The loud bang washed over the remaining members of the academy.

“Temps Commission, Edward speaking. How can I help you?”

It was quiet in the academy. There was hardly any laughter. The soft hums of Grace cooking, the mutters from Pogo, the haunting violin strings from Viktor and the strained grunts and clattering metal from Luther. Didi hadn’t said a word.

“For the love of- stop calling. We can’t help you. It’s specific instructions.”

All the quiet was her fault. If she didn’t let Ben die, no one would have left. They would all be alive. They would leave not by force or guilt, but because that’s where their lives were heading. They would chase something new, not run from something.

Didi had worked so hard to be part of the family. She’d fit in well with everyone else, always finding common ground. But she hadn’t said a word.

She’d find herself knocking on Luther’s door late at night. He often wouldn’t answer, but when he did, they’d sit in silence in his room. They’d watch the stars twinkle brightly next to the moon. Didi would help tend to his wounds, and he’d smile in gratitude.

“Gasp… Huff… Gasp… Huff…”

She’d dance. She’d feel the hard wood floor beneath her bare feet, creating blisters on the balls of her feet. She’d glide across the room to nothing but the crackle of a fire in her mind. She wished there was a gunshot to remember, a scream, choking on air. Anything to remember Ben's death by.

“Gasp… Huff… Gasp… Huff…”

Not like that.

Viktor had visited her once while she was dancing. He said Reginald wanted to talk with her, but Didi kept moving. A release on her tension, a way to build muscles that didn’t leave her traumatised.

Didi beckoned Viktor over. She made him sway with her. He was confused, but not uncomfortable. He wanted connection more than anything.

“Temps Commission, this is Lil-”

There was music to dance to now. Viktor would join her in one of the training rooms, the one with no windows and one wall completely covered in mirrors. He’d play softly, she’d dance till her whole body was aching. Didi would smile more.

Sometimes she slept in Luther’s bed. She didn’t want to think about the melancholy pulsing around her heart, clouding her mind, and ever since Klaus had gone with his drug factory she’d had trouble falling asleep. Being reminded she wasn’t alone helped her.

She taught Luther how to dance and Luther taught her how to train. They made promises to each other. Although he hadn’t used in a while, he wouldn’t relapse into steroids and she wouldn’t shift unless it was life and death, so she could rely on herself and not the form of Luther she’d shift into.

“Oh, fuck, no.”

The photoshoot Didi saw in the apocalypse arrived. Some contractor had created an athletic wear line for Luther and Didi to promote, the extra money to be used by Reginald for scientific funding, or whatever he did with their money.

Uncanny. She started to feel sick with guilt, her breakfast threatening to come back up.

Reginald hadn’t said a word about any plans to stop the apocalypse. He hadn’t mentioned the apocalypse at all. 

“Gasp… Huff… Gasp… Huff…”

Didi hadn’t meant to kill herself – not that she could die. She and Luther had just returned from another mission, marked as a failure in Reginald’s eyes. Too many people were alerted of their presence. They sustained too many injuries to be a success.

Every day she was reminded of her failure.

The painting of Five hung high on the wall.

The tombstone of Ben out in the backyard.

The quiet hallways.

Reginald himself.

 “Gasp… Huff… Gasp… Huff…”

She fully intended to shift after doing it. She just wanted a few measly seconds without the burden of the academy. She brought down the blade harshly into her bicep, clearing the umbrella tattoo. Crimson sprayed over the floor as her disconnected fingers twitched limply.

Didi was free.

She’d left it too long.

She was screaming, but she couldn’t recall. All she remembered were the brief moments of independence. By the time Luther and Viktor had found her, she was already turning hard. She’d sliced open all branches of her brachial artery. She bled out to death and didn’t even think to save herself. Didi only knew when she woke back up, her plastic arm superglued to the rest of her, Reginald looking on disapprovingly.

Didi began talking again after that. She had to – she had to apologise.

“Gasp… Huff… Gasp… Huff... He-”

That was the final straw for Viktor. Directly Didi’s fault.

She saw all the worst qualities of the academy, now. Isolated as Luther, brash as Diego, selfish as Allison, an addict like Klaus, cynical as Ben, and complacent as Viktor.

Luther and Didi stood with Viktor as he packed his bags. Viktor said it was simply time for him to go, to make it on his own at 18, but Didi knew. Didi wouldn’t want to live with herself either.

He zipped his violin in his case and was done. It was a solemn goodbye, no ignorant comments where they pretended to be something they weren’t.

Viktor had found a little apartment for rent, in a relatively safe part of town. And if not, he’d see Diego, Viktor joked. But none of them knew if Diego was still with the police force.

 “Hi, this is Clive, welcome to the Temps Commission! How may I direct your call today?”

For their nineteenth birthday, Didi only had one wish. For Pogo to distract Reginald long enough for Didi to sneak out and purchase the three High School Musical discs for her and Luther to watch.

Luther had done up the attic with cushions and blankets, with a dusty TV and DVD player set Klaus had stolen a few years back. They immediately identified themselves as Sharpay and Ryan, although who was who was up to the coin toss. When they weren’t training, they were learning the choreography to Bop to the Top, chalking it up to training exercises if anyone asked questions. 

“Of course, patching you through now.” BEEEEEEP.

She didn’t bother knocking, she was done with Reginald keeping secrets. Didi swung his door open and gasped at the sight. Never before had she seen any man, let alone the powerful authoritative figure, look so defeated. He yelled at her to get out. When she tried to cut in and ask about the apocalypse, he narrowed his eyes sternly and raised his hand high.

It was quick. Didi wouldn’t even know what happened if it weren’t for the sting in her cheek and Reginald shouting at her that she was a corrupt failure.

That should have been it. She should have immediately left.

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring.  

But she didn’t. Why?

Didi tried to ring the number she now knew as the Temps Commission. She didn’t know what it was, or what they did, but she had a name. It always began with the heavy mechanical breathing before she was berated by the phone workers for calling.

“We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Goodbye.”

“Come on, Dee, hit me harder than that.” Luther taunted.

Didi wiped the sweat off her forehead and ducked below Luther’s outstretched arms. Now behind him, she grabbed his shoulder and launched her knee into his back, forcing him to take one step. As he lifted his foot, she pushed with all her might on his remaining leg, knowing full well his balance was shit.

Luther fell to the floor but took Didi with him, sending her head crashing into the floor. She held her head as she crawled away, recognising the thumping as a concussion to be, something she’d become familiar with ever since Luther made her stop shifting.

He held out a strong hand for her to grab onto and hoisted her up carefully.

“Atta girl. Hey, you got some blood there.” He jabbed his thumb over her cut to wipe the blood away. Didi sighed and shifted back into her form from before the fight.

“Hey!” Luther began. Didi held up a finger to stop him.

“I’m not risking infection because you got germs into an open cut.”

“Risk isn’t life and death.”

Didi rolled her eyes and grabbed her water bottle. Her clothes felt icy cold now, wet with perspiration she hadn’t sweat out yet.

“No, but I’m not getting sick. What happens if we’re needed? And I’m sporting a high-grade fever because, again, of you?”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You don’t think enough.”

He clasped his hands together in glee.

“Where is that energy on the floor? That vicious and cutting energy?”

“Well, it’s harder now I have to keep the pain. And you don’t go as hard either, anymore.” Didi pointed an accusing finger at Luther. She recalled the times when he’d all but beaten her to death. Any other academy member would have never been able to walk again.

“There used to be a time when you could beat me.” He retorted.

“The only reason I could ever beat you was because I manipulated you.”

“Do it again.”

“Why?”

“To prove to me you can. To prove to me you can still win.”

Why?

Why hadn’t she left yet?

What was there to win against?

“I can’t protect the academy.” She said to herself. Luther stepped closer, his eyebrows threaded together in worry.

“Pardon?”

“I can’t win. I never could win. Because if I could…”

“Hey, hey, Didi.” Luther rubbed her arm reassuringly. “Nothing was your fault.”

It was all her fault.

Why the fuck didn’t she say anything earlier? Afraid they weren’t going to like her? At least they’d all be alive.

Maybe she thought if she didn’t say anything, it wouldn’t be true. But Ben was dead. If the future is lived, it has to happen.

She was living in the future.

She was responsible for everything.

“I have to go. I… I’m sorry.”

Luther stared at her blankly before coming to the conclusion she was joking.

“Oh, good manipulation. You really had me there. See, more of that! You need to rely on your mind games.”

“It’s not a game. Luther, I have to leave. I… I need to get out of here. I’m sorry.”

Didi knew he didn’t understand. If Didi could truly believe she wasn’t responsible, she’d stay too. Maybe even stay forever.

If she didn’t know about the apocalypse, if she didn’t know about Ben dying, if she wasn’t hit by Reginald, she would stay.

But there was no point.

“Will you come visit me?” Luther asked. They stood in her bedroom, essentials packed in a duffel bag. The bed was stripped, her medicine packed away tightly. A separate bag held all her notebooks on the apocalypse. Since taking them back from Reginald, she’d barely looked at them. Didi had combed through everywhere to make sure no incriminating evidence was left behind.

“Of course, Luther. We’re friends. Not like you’ll be sneaking out to meet me, anyway.”

She didn’t have much of a plan. She said goodbye to Grace and Pogo. Grace was as sweet as always. Pogo knew it was for the best.

Luther walked her to the front door. She remembered entering through it for the first time, all those years ago. She was scared then and she was scared now. Scared of the unknown, scared of the future. Scared for Five.

The only difference was her height, honestly.

Didi didn’t say goodbye to Reginald. She was done with him.

Luther wrapped his muscular arms tightly around Didi, taking with him the sole burden of representing the Umbrella Academy.

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2025.

Didi was fine.

The apocalypse was great.

Her boyfriend was an alcoholic. A cute one, but still an alcoholic.

Ever since Five blinked, a small jump across the footpath to a street light, he’d been convinced that being under the influence somehow helped. Didi wasn’t going to pretend she understood Five’s abilities as well as Five did, but it didn’t sit right with her. He’d drunk alcohol before, and he didn’t blink. Fuck, he’d gotten blitzed out and never blinked.

She didn’t understand why now – neither did he.

“Hey, he-hey, time me. See... ocean... oceania... see how-” Five grabbed his stomach as it gurgled loudly.

“You haven’t eaten enough for this, darling.”

“Nooo. No, Delilores-”

“What?”

“Shh. Just shh... I’m gonna wink. Blink.”

Five sat still for a minute. He screwed up his face and swallowed as he tried to keep the vomit down.

“I blinked. Didyouseeit?”

“You’re slurring your words again.”

“Slurthisdick, love.”

Five raised the wine bottle to scull the rest of it but missed his mouth entirely. The red liquid spilled down his shirt as he stood there, mouth open, tongue darting around, not reacting at all.

“Did I miss, my love?” He asked. He smiled dopily at Didi.

“Oh my god, yeah. You spilt that all down yourself.”

Five threw himself down on the couch where Didi lay, draping his scrawny figure around her. She could hear his wet shirt sticking to her skin from the wine as he shuffled around to get comfortable. He sounded like a cat stretching.

They’d finally settled down. For now, Didi reminded herself. They’d settled down for now. After years of walking, no idea what state they were in – assuming they were still in America, they’d find a secluded area that hadn’t been largely affected by the apocalypse. And it was a fucking mansion.

Well, smaller than the academy, but they weren’t complaining. Most of the windows were in tack, only the glasshouse in the backyard was shattered to pieces. The structure was still sound. It was somewhere to call home.

Five had spent days clearing out all the rotting food. With Didi in the wheelbarrow, they walked to the closest grocery to stock up on essentials. She’ll never forget the smile he had when he placed two toothbrushes into a chipped glass in their bathroom. It was the little things that mattered. 

“Hey, darling,” Didi whispered softly.

“Can I... ooh.” Five grabbed his stomach again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Always.”

“If you had hair, what colorwould it be?”

“Pardon?”

“HAIR. Hair color. Tell me?”

“Oh! Uhm-”

“I bet it would be the prettiest color in the world. Because you’re the. You’re the prettiest color.”

“No, I’m the luckiest... colour? Why am I a colour?”

“You’re orange. That’s your flavor.”

“Why orange, love?”

“I’m blue. And they’re... comp-li-men-ta-ry colors.”

Five rolled over and snuggled into Didi’s hard side.

“Do you want to move to bed?” Didi asked, knowing Five would complain in the morning when his back was screwed up as he hunched himself over the toilet.

“Naughty, naughty. Someone’s trying to get a piece of this.” He waggled a finger around before bopping Didi on her nose. “Also I cannot. Can’t walk. To bed.”

“On the couch for the night again?”

“Mmhm. No funny business.” He jabbed his finger into her plastic cheek. “I loooove you.”

“I love you too, asshole.”

Five was already asleep before he could hear the response. That was fine. She didn't need the constant stimulation of conversation.

2008.

When Didi woke up, she was fine. Despite how quiet it was, she was fine. She didn’t realise how much she’d miss the ruckus of the academy until she moved out. Not even a sweet hum from Grace over a sizzling stove. It was fine.

Her sheets were plain, her large bed empty compared to the warmth of the cramped couch she fell asleep on. The wooden floor was cold beneath her feet as she pattered her apartment.

Didi listened to the radio as she made breakfast. All channels were filled with the news of Allison’s new movie role, everyone praising her for being so young yet “so dedicated to her craft”. With the mentions of Allison came the rest of the academy members the public cared about. Diego was still in the police academy. Luther was still in the Umbrella Academy. If Didi cared enough, she’d draw the parallels. Klaus had been spotted with Allison but stayed relatively hidden.

Of course, there was herself.

She had the intellect to do whatever job. Medicine, psychology, rocket science. But with the knowledge that the world was ending, she didn’t want to spend time studying to do something she didn’t love. It was selfish, she was aware. To counter, she compromised.

Didi regularly donated her body to the surrounding hospitals in her area. Mainly organs, sometimes blood and bone marrow. Very rarely was her hair, although that was her favourite to donate. No pain, just a shaved head. Sometimes she’d even keep the shaved head for a few days.

She started learning phlebotomy. She knew enough about blood withdrawals from Reginald and Pogo, so to help out after clearing her body wasn’t too much of a task.

The public still cared about her. They praised her for her charity, although her life wasn’t as glamorous as Allison’s or as cryptic as Klaus’s, so she wasn’t largely the subject. That was fine with her. She was fine.

However, she didn’t stray from the public eye too far.

She danced, able to put professional ballerina on her job title. It reminded her of home when she was dancing with other people. A life before the academy. A life with her... her parents.

What were their names?

Did she have two of them?

It terrified her that she couldn’t remember. She knew she should get it checked out. She was simply afraid of the results.

She was fine.

Didi swung a loaded duffel bag over her shoulder, locking the door behind her as she left. The walls outside her apartment were grimy, and she could afford a better place from being a Hargreeves and the money from her jobs.

But if the world was ending, why not let those less fortunate have a better quality of life rather than improving her own?

Her days felt similar. Wake up, rehearse. Donate, take blood. Rehearse (or perform, if it was the season), go to bed where she’d wake up with Five. That’s what she looked forward to the most. Not that she relied on Five for her happiness. She was fine.

Apocalypse, 2026.

Except when he was hunched over the toilet bowl, vomiting the decisions of the previous night.

“All that fucking – BLEGH – fucking alcohol, and I can’t even... can’t – BLEGH – even fucking blink.” Five moaned from the bathroom. Didi still sat on the couch, the soft blanket she was in before now thrown on the floor from Five’s mad dash.

“It’s not the alcohol that made you blink.” Although, she wasn’t sure that was true. Didi was about 90% sure that wasn’t the case. Mainly, she just wanted Five to think about his liver. And she hated it when he slurred his words.

“Fuck you.”

“Not when your breath smells like ass.”

“Well – BLEGH – nope, I’m done. No argument.”

Didi listened to Five throw up. When he emerged from the bathroom after what felt like hours, his face was paler than usual, his long hair stuck to his forehead and his shirt damp with sweat. He trembled slightly as he walked over to the couch, carefully lowering himself to not upset his stomach further.

“You’re so handsome.” Didi purred. “Why don’t you go have something to eat?”

“I don’t think I can keep... keep it down.” Five rolled his head back on the couch, the veins on his neck popping out vividly from dehydration. Didi allowed her eyes to travel to his arms to find a similar fate. She didn’t mind it – didn’t love the dehydration, but Didi couldn’t hate the view. She’d swallow thickly if she had the muscles.

“Alcohol isn’t making you blink.” She said softly. It wasn’t a confrontational point, but Five hated not knowing something. Alcohol was his best bet, as stupid as it was, and reacted cagey when brought up.

“Then what made me blink?” He asked. He took small sips from his canteen, sighing in relief.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to tell you something my dad told me. Don’t bring up a problem unless you have a solution. From the father of the year - wish I missed him.”

Didi shivered at the memory of Reginald telling her the same thing. She couldn’t remember exactly what about, probably some pain-related issue. Shifting it away wasn’t the norm then.

Five narrowed his eyes and turned his hands into fists as he tried to blink. Maybe it was just a fluke, a one-off destined to haunt Five. The boy who knew everything became the man sunken by what he didn’t know.

He raced to the bathroom again. Didi tried to tune out the sound.

Five came back once again, drenched in more sweat but looking better. He dabbed his face with a discarded jacket and shuffled into their kitchen. Their kitchen. The thought made Didi feel giddy.

Coffee and a muesli bar, that’s all his breakfast normally was. Five gagged slightly as he forced down the bar.

“Hey, uhm, might not be the best time for it, but...” Five trailed off. He held on to the kitchen countertop with a tight grip to steady himself, his knuckles turning white from force. “No, never mind.”

“What?” Didi questioned.

“No, it’s fine.”

“That is such a dick move, Five.”

“I changed my mind.”

“It seemed important.”

“It’s way too important to talk about right now.”

“Important things should be talked about right away.”

Five leaned over the counter and pressed his face against the cool slate.

“No.” was all he said.

“Dropkick.” Didi sang out, more annoyance in her voice than she intended to have.

“Bite me.”

“I love you.”

Five clasped his stomach in agony.

“I love you too.”

The only solace in Five being sick was that he wouldn’t touch a drink for a few days, not till the smell of alcohol didn’t make him feel queasy.

Their days continued like that. In the present world, Didi went by idly. She’d constantly roll her ankles or bruise herself from overwork, but she’d just shift out of the pain and restart. In the apocalypse, she’d try her best to take care of him as they planned for Five to come home.

Day in.

Day out.

She was fine.

Although the change of pace from the constant bustle of the academy was peaceful, Didi missed everyone. The strict purpose, a purpose she’d try to enforce on herself with the hospital. She had to help out in any way she could. Had to prove she was fine.

Day in.

Day out.

She was fine.

She’d try to pry Five open with whatever he was about to say, but he never talked about it again. He almost seemed embarrassed about it. Didi just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to break up with her.

2010.

Months had passed since Didi moved out. While cramped, she turned the space into her own. Fluffy white rugs, crisp pale blue sheets, coffee mugs she filled with tea.

As much as guilt ate at her, she spent money on herself. She was allowed to live a comfortable life too, right? Right? She still donated money and body parts. She still worked for her money. But how good of a dancer could she be if her back was in constant pain from a cheap mattress? Sure, she could shift the pain away, but then she’d never age.

It was fine.

Didi needed glasses. Nothing major, her eyesight simply wasn’t as good as it once was. She could have shifted to a version of her that could see, but then she’d never age.

Her time was supposed to be brief, now only 8 or so more years till the apocalypse. It wasn’t enough time to grow old with Five, especially if he hopefully returned, but she wanted to grow. She’d wasted so much time shifting out of pain in the academy. She had to age now.

Sometimes she’d feel sick in the morning. Ooh, she’d think. Morning sickness. She’d promptly chastise herself for forgetting she was technically a virgin. It didn’t happen enough for her to be alarmed. It was fleeting. No surgeons found anything wrong with her when they cut her up. She was fine.

She was fine.

She was fine enough to try and find Diego. She didn’t know where to begin, so she found herself walking to the police station after rehearsal. Of course, she was hoping to see Diego, but she was surprised to see him exit the building with a pretty brunette smiling lovingly at him.

His eyes widened in shock when he saw her. He seemed to instinctively shrink behind the girl with him. Didi assumed she was also a police officer in training, looking just a little younger than Diego.

The girl gaped at her and smacked Diego on the arm as if he wasn’t already paying attention. But Diego was frozen. His hesitancy was now mimicked in Didi’s stance. She wanted to move closer. To talk to someone she considered family. Why did he look almost... scared? That wasn’t the right word for it. Guilty? Cautious?

The girl made a move. She walked up to Didi and smiled. Her teeth were dazzling, her full lips giving way to sharp cheekbones.

“Hi. I’m Eudora. Big fan of your work. Don’t tell Diego, but you were always my favourite member.” She beamed. The girl wasn’t mocking Didi, her tone playful. Eudora beckoned Diego over. Didi watched his feet drag along the pavement, his eyes looking anywhere but at her.

“Thank... you.” Didi managed. “Lovely to meet a... fan.”

“Patch,” Diego mumbled. “Could we have a m-minute?”

Eudora took her cue to leave. She walked away, the spring in her step a stark contrast to the stifling energy between Diego and Didi.

“Hey, Diego-”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said flatly. He stuck his hands in his pockets. Didi remembered how Reginald would tell the children off for that, saying it stopped them from being ready for attack.

Didi didn’t understand.

“What?” She asked. He still refused to look at her.

“I don’t want to be associated with-h you, or the academy.”

Didi let that sink in.

“I don’t understand. When you left, you begged me to come with you.”

“And good on you for leaving. You enjoy riding Dad’s coattails?”

“I... what?”

“You could have done something great, Didi.” She was. Did he not know? “Instead, you're chasing fame again like Allison, too afraid to be anything other than a Hargreeves.”

This wasn’t the Diego she knew. But if this was who he wanted to be...

“Good seeing you, Diego. Eudora seems nice.”

She left before he had a chance to say something back.

Tears welled up behind her eyes, but Didi shifted them away before they could begin to fall. The crush of her heart, and pain in her stomach, constantly shifted away as she made her way back home. It was fine.

As soon as Didi unlocked her door, she went straight for her bottle of sleeping pills. It was only 7pm. She needed to see Five.

But she was fine.

Didi wasn’t using him as a crutch.

She was fine.

Apocalypse, 2026.

When she came to, wrapped up in Five’s warm embrace, she was fine.

He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead, his way of saying good morning.

It was fucked up.

Five was stuck in an apocalypse. Didi lived half her life paralysed. They’d both been brought up in unjust and abusive situations. Didi couldn’t remember a life before the academy. Her own brother figure thought little of her. She’d left her only support system to fend for himself at the academy. Allison had used her powers against Didi. She was dating someone the people she spent her formative years with considered family. She couldn’t remember her own parents. She was nauseous with no reason.

She was fine.

She was fine.

She was fine with Five.

Chapter Text

2011.

Didi was fine. She was excited to get home – she always was. But she’d run out of milk, and she wanted to see what the magazines were saying about her family. She strolled down the aisles, looking for anything that would pick her fancy.

When living with the academy, it was a very rigid dining plan. Unless they snuck out to eat, the food was overtly healthy, made for the sole purpose of substance and muscle building. It wasn’t a bad thing, Didi guessed. Health was good. However, now she could buy Skittles… she wasn’t going to pass it up.

Credit is given where credit’s due – Clark Kent was onto something. Ever since Didi started wearing glasses, she was unrecognisable to the public save for those die-head fans. See, kids? It’s ok to sit so close to your tv. There are rewards.

She loaded her groceries onto the conveyor belt at the checkout. While the cashier was finishing up with the person before her, Didi took a moment to look at the tabloids. Apparently, secret affairs were the hot topic of the moment. Whatever desperate company it was, they were trying to string together evidence that not only were Luther and Didi dating, but she was cheating on him with Diego – her one true love. Somehow, despite being a cheater, she still came out of the story good, reputable, and right. She slipped the magazine behind her head of lettuce and stomach pills on the belt.

A small child in the next queue over pointed out the window, drawing Didi’s eyesight to a black limousine stretching by. People on the sidewalk stopped and gawked at it. Limousines hadn’t really been since the prime of the Umbrella Academy. It was a rarity now. Didi could make a guess at what was happening, but she didn’t like the answer.

Best to ignore. It’ll be fine.

Didi walked home. She normally did. So many years cooped up like a bird, a bird trained to kill, Didi enjoyed the outside as much as she could. She trekked up the stairs of her apartment building, the lingering smell of decay now gone ever since Didi joined the block’s cleaning committee.

Rarely was she envious of the other’s power. But she wished she had Diego’s power as she rounded the corner to her door. Then she could lob the 3-litre milk she was carrying right into Allison’s head.

Of course, Didi was right. Why the fuck would a limo be driving around? Fucking Allison Hargreeves.

Didi remembered something about her getting engaged. The ring that sparkled even in the dim, yellow light of the hallway reminded Didi of that. Another Hollywood man, a whirlwind romance considered stable for Allison.

“Hey, Dee,” Allison said softly. She was hesitant. Almost skittish, like Didi would harm her. As if Didi could do anything to harm her. “How are you?” It was a weird power imbalance.

“Fine.” She replied. Civil. Didi didn’t want to make a big deal of anything. She kept shifting away the racing of her heart, the rage swelling in her stomach, the sweat threatening to build on her forehead.

“Could we talk?”

“Why don’t you just rumour me into talking? You love that.” Didi pushed by Allison and unlocked her door. “How did you find out where I lived?”

“I, uhm...”

“Who did you rumour?”

“Your boss.”

“Oh, brilliant.”

Didi left her door open, a non-verbal invitation for Allison to come in. Perhaps not the wisest decision, but there was a part of Didi that missed her. Allison was her best friend growing up. She missed having someone to tell everything too. Well. Almost everything.

The clack of Allison’s heels against the floor was followed by the quiet shut of the door. She tentatively stood to the side of the kitchen, watching Didi put the shopping away and taking in her home. She had too much charm to look awkward. Didi hated her for it.

“It’s a nice place, Dee. Very comfy.”

“Cheers.”

“I’ve been keeping up with what you’ve been doing. It’s impressive, all your donations and all.”

“Yeah.”

“And I saw the poster for your upcoming performance. That’s so exciting! I always loved Sleeping Beauty.”

“Cool.”

“Didi, do you have more than one-word answers?”

There was a lot more Didi could say.

“Yeah.”

Allison sighed. She looked down at her feet, her gorgeous, dark hair falling to frame her face. She was always beautiful. When she looked back up, her eyes were slightly bloodshot, a single tear rolling down perfectly over her soft features.

Either Allison had gotten better at acting, or she was genuinely upset.

Which was… fine?

“I’m sorry, Didi. I am. I should never have done that. I should have never rumored you.”

“But you did.”

“I… What can I do to make it up to you?”

Didi turned her back on Allison and pretended to busy herself with drying dishes.

“Time.”

“Hm?”

“Just need time, Ally.”

“It’s been almost 4 years.” Allison sighed. As if Allison got to determine how long Didi should have to get over things.

Over that.

She’d be fine. Eventually.

Didi let Allison sit in silence. When it became clear Didi wasn’t going to talk, Allison started thumbing through the magazine Didi bought.

“You look good in this picture. Come see.” She beckoned Didi over. It was a picture of her and Diego out front of the precinct, Eudora in the background. A lovers spat, the tabloid called it. She did look good, though. The only reason she was recognised with her thick-rim glasses was the fact she was with Diego – and the fucking branding on her wrist she didn't cover.

“Yeah.” Didi supposed she appreciated the attempt at small talk. Now the apology was done, Allison could move on to repairing the relationship. No repeating herself. Reginald would have scolded them for it. Didi dug her hip into the kitchen island to ground herself. Reginald wasn’t here.

“Nice glasses. You look like a nerd.”

“Still hotter than you.”

“No ring on that finger.”

“Cause I didn’t fall for the first guy I met outside the academy. Or in it.”

“Touché.”

“Douché.”

Allison stuck her middle finger up at Didi, and Didi grabbed the finger in her fist and made a ‘jerk off’ motion. Crass. Reginald wouldn’t have approved.

“Hey, I heard a li-” Allison began.

I heard a rumour.

Didi didn’t think twice before punching Allison in the mouth. Allison’s teeth scratched uselessly at Didi’s knuckles, blood pouring out of her mouth. She clasped her hand over her mouth and yelped in pain.

“WHAT THE THUCK?!”

“You were going to rumour me!”

“NO, I THUCKING WASN’T!”

It sounded like Didi had at least chipped, if not broken, her teeth. Her nose was also at a peculiar angle.

“Did you break my thucking NOSE?! Right before my thucking WEDDING?!”

“Oh, uh.” Didi panicked and looked around her kitchen for something to stop the bleeding. She threw a roll of paper towel at Allison, accidentally clocking her in the face, making her injury worse.

“THUCKER!” Allison screamed, blood pouring out between her fingers as she desperately held her face together. “Oh my god, there’s a tooth loose.”

“In your mouth?”

“Yes, you thucking bitch. It – no, that’s thully out. You knocked my tooth out.”

Didi guided Allison to the kitchen sink. She tried her best to ignore the fact that the blood was going to stain her floorboards.  As long as she stayed away from her fluffy white rug, quickly becoming Didi’s crowning achievement in the apartment, everything would be fine. Mm. Fine.

“Alright, breathe through your mouth. Lean forward, I’ll, uh...” She scrambled around for something to put on the wound. Wet paper towel to clean it, ice pack to help the swelling. “If it’s still looking bad after a bit, we’ll go to the hospital.”

“M’m tougher than a thucking hothpital.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The tears Allison shed made clean tracks down her blood-covered cheeks. The initial shock of everything had faded away as Didi cleaned Allison up.

“I’m sorry, but you definitely said ‘I heard a rumour’, and I wasn’t taking any chances.”

“Noo, no. I – ow – I was…” Allison spat a wad of crimson into the sink. Her hands grasped the bench edge tightly. Didi rubbed her back soothingly, replacing the bloody paper towel with a fresh one, slightly damp.

“Take it easy. I’m sorry.”

“Thithi?” Allison mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Maith of honor?”

“…Huh?”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Maith. Of. Honor.”

“…Maid? You want me to be your maid of honour?”

“Leasth you could do afther breaking my thucking nose.”

Didi patched her up the best she could. Allison said she’d visit a plastic surgeon in LA, and that she’d get it done cheaper there anyway.

She said she’d have to think about the maid of honour offer. Didi felt honoured to still be an important enough part of Allison’s life, but the way she’d used her powers against Didi was not easily forgiven.

After Allison left, Didi spent the night scrubbing her floor clean of blood until she collapsed, exhausted. She pulled the spare pillow flush against her side and pretended it was Five’s warm, beating body.

Apocalypse, 2026.

Five’s stubble tickled Didi’s cheek as they lay together after a rare day of nothing productive. Five scoured books in the mansion’s library and read to her all day, a half-finished book on the bedside table in favour of each other’s company.

Didi could feel Five’s steady heartbeat in her back as he held her in his lap.

“Would you have gone to Allison’s wedding?” She asked.

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I would of.”

“But what if she… I don’t know, did something fucked up.”

“She’s my sister. Of course she did something fucked up. But I... I miss her, and I’d give every opportunity to be with her, with all of them.”

“But what if she rumoured you to do something you didn’t want to do?”

“Babydoll, she did that all the time. Heard a rumor you did my chores, heard a rumor you let me win, heard a rumor you told Luther I like him.”

“You’re the reason Luther and Allison were together?”

“Unfortunately. They were so fucking sappy with each other.”

“You thought that was gross?”

“I just didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand other people can contribute to your overall happiness in such a way.”

His arms snaked around her and squeezed her tight.

“Sap.” She giggled. He planted feather-light kisses on her shoulder and pulled her down under the covers. After days of shaking them, even daring to use some water and a bar of soap to clean them, the blankets were rid of dust.

“Family is family.”

“Mm.”

“Speaking of…”

Didi held her non-existent breath. She could of suspected, the times when he would trail off deep in thought. Thoughts he didn’t share with her. He shared everything with her.

“No, never mind.”

He turned over to extinguish the candle burning next to them and immediately fell asleep, star-fished across the bed and an arm haphazardly keeping Didi secure in her plastic state. Five didn’t even give her a chance to talk.

“I’d say yes,” she said to no one.

Chapter Text

2011.

“I do.”

Didi felt the pit of her stomach sway. Shifting the nausea away did nothing. It tumbled around her abdomen, threatening to rise high in her oesophagus. Her hands were sweaty as they clamped around the light blue bouquet.

She tried to enjoy the sight around her. The beautiful arch, intertwined with matching flowers and glimmering in the setting sun. Allison stood beneath it with her soon-to-be husband, Patrick. Her stunning bridal gown fell gracefully down her frame.  

“I do.”

It wasn’t jealousy. Sure, she’d been dating Five a lot longer than them, but it wasn’t jealousy. It was a feeling she’d had present for months, lingering for years.

She could hear the sniffles from the crowd. A lavish event, a who’s who of Hollywood, plus the Umbrella Academy. Some of them.

There was no Viktor. Didi wondered if he’d even received an invite.

There was no Luther. That wasn’t surprising, but Didi did miss him.

Klaus and Diego were seated in the front row. Diego refused to meet her eye.

Didi hadn’t realised she was biting the inside of her cheek until the wash of metallic liquid coated her tongue. It tasted more bitter than usual.

The wave of nausea swelled again as Allison and Patrick kissed, concluding the ceremony.

Didi had met Patrick a few times during the wedding preparation. A decent man, attractive, if a bit boring. If that’s what Allison needed, if he’s the man she loved, that was all that mattered. And –

She was going to vomit.

Didi turned to Klaus, who quirked an eyebrow in question at Didi’s pale and sweaty face and shifty eyes. She offered a small smile that she prayed Klaus would understand.

Wobbling behind Allison and Patrick as they made their way back down the aisle, she clung to the best man’s arm for stability. The sly grin he gave her let Didi know that he misunderstood her hold.

But hey, she’d already beaten up the super-powered bride. She could take on the best man.

As soon as she stopped feeling sick.

It was a blur at the reception. The best man kept trying to flirt with her, and Didi had to bite back a remark and vomit. The bright and swivelling lights, the loud and thumping music, the fact that there were entirely too many people here Didi didn’t know didn’t help settle her stomach.

Didi grabbed Klaus’s hand and dragged him away from the bar. She twisted through the crowd and pulled him into the bathroom.

Two women who were reapplying their makeup stared at them in confusion.

“Hey, ladies.” Klaus drawled.

“Get out.” Didi snapped, already making her way to the sink and wetting a paper towel. She held it desperately to the back of her neck as Klaus took a small Ziploc bag from his pocket and gave it a good shake.

“What wrong, Skippy?” He asked. He dug a small amount of the powder in his bag with his fingernail and breathed it in heavily. He held his head back for a few seconds before breathing deeply again and widening his eyes. Just watching the action made Didi queasy.

“Sick.”

“What, are you pregnant?”

“No.”

“Is it mine?”

“No.”

“If it were, would that be incest?”

“There’s no baby, dipshit. Just sick.”

“If there was a baby, I’d totally support that thing.”

“Babies aren’t things.”

“But that ass is. Holla!”

“Stop flirting with me – it’s incestual.”

“So it is incest-y.”

Didi pivoted to the cubicle, hunched over the thankfully clean toilet and emptied her stomach. She was vaguely aware of Klaus behind her and the door opening again. Klaus and another male, words undecipherable over Didi’s throw-up.

“There, there. Done now?” Klaus rubbed his hand on Didi’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort. Didi ripped it off as she went again.

Didi slid down the stall wall, resting her head on the cool tiles. Klaus, concerned, stood next to an equally concerned and mildly confused Diego. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“You can go back out to the party, Diego.” She offered weakly. You’re not needed here.

“It’s boring out there.”

“And Didi being pregnant is better?”

“Wait, you’re pregnant?”

“I’m the dad, yeah.”

“Oh, congratulations. Boy or girl?”

“Whatever it wants to be, as long as it’s healthy.”

“Beautiful.”

“Thank you, Diego.”

“You are…” Didi struggled a moment. “The last person I would want… to have a baby.. w-with.”

“You’re not top of my list – you’re way too pale. Looking like a ghost.” Klaus pulled Didi up gently to her feet and guided her to the sink.

“Why don’t you just shift away the sickness?” Diego asked, helping Klaus keep Didi steady.

“Comes back worse.”

“Oh.” Diego and Klaus shared a look over the top of Didi’s head. She saw their quizzical faces in the pristine mirror. “Nice tattoo.”

Her eyes fell to her collarbone. Didi traced her index finger over the three of the five stars visible from the cut of her dress.

The Cassiopeia.

It was an impulsive decision to get, but she knew she had to at some point. Five said she had marks on her shoulder. Didi just never knew what. It was a nightmare to get - she couldn’t shift or the pain of the tattoo healing would take longer. It was worth it, however.

“Thanks, thought I’d get three stars to celebrate Number Three.”

“You didn’t.”

“No, it’s actually a star for each time I thought about going to kill myself.”

“Excusi moi?”

“No, I just like stars. You can see the stars so well...” in the apocalypse. “In Australia.”

“Oh, Skippy. So sentimental.”

“Barf?”

“Barf.”

And she did.

Klaus and Diego told her to go home. They would explain to Allison why her bridal party was one member short. Didi was grateful and tried to convey as such with the tidal wave in her stomach.

She hailed a taxi as she fished out her phone from her purse.

5 missed calls from Dr Pierce. The surgeon who would extract Didi’s organs and take her blood, plasma and bones. It was never a joy to see her name ring on the caller ID. As she stepped into the taxi, clutching her stomach, the phone rang again.

She didn’t like what she heard.

She hated it.

She hated it so much that she didn’t eat. She didn’t shift anymore.

She hated it so much, she drowned herself in sleeping pills, knowing that even if an ulcer were to develop, it would be a saving grace compared to what was happening.

She hated it so much, she deposited her own blood into a petri dish and watched it froth and bubble over.

She hated it so much, she cut out her own stomach and watched it turn acidic green in a jar within the month. Her liver and pancreas blackened in a jar. Her eyes turned white in a jar.

She hated that she couldn’t tell Five. It would unravel everything.

She hated that she didn’t want to tell the others.

She hated the death toll she bought.

She hated that they were still counting how many people had died from the transplants.

She hated that she didn’t know how much of her was affected.

She hated the cause.

Because, of course, it was him.

Every vile thing that ever happened in her life had to be linked to him.

Didi parked haphazardly against the footpath, ignoring the sounds of the car’s tyres scraping against the pavement. 

She didn’t care.

She threw open her car door and slammed it shut behind her, rattling the whole car. A cat scampered away on the sidewalk. The cold wind blowing through did nothing to calm her boiling rage.

Reginald Hargreeves had fucked up for the last goddamn time. 

Her fist pounded loudly on the heavy wooden door. She tapped her feet impatiently before hearing the click of the door unlocking. Grace answered it, curls in her pretty hair and a crisp white apron tied around her waist, as always.

“Didi! Hello, my dear. This is quite a surprise. What can I help you with?” Grace asked, smiling. Even her teeth were perfect.

“I need to speak to Reginald.” Didi stepped past Grace. The fact that Grace didn’t move out of the way didn’t go unnoticed by Didi. Had Reginald changed her programming?

“Oh, your father is very-”

“Not my father.” Didi was already making her way up the stairs, her legs taking two at a time in haste. She shifted away the lack of breath, feeling guilty that not everyone had that opportunity. But it wasn’t she who should feel guilty.

“Luther?” She called out to the empty house. “You still here?”

Her quick footsteps echoed loudly. She didn’t know if she wanted Luther to know it.

Pogo was at the end of the corridor. He looked shocked to see her, as if she was never supposed to come back. Pogo could thank the mutation killing her for that.

Before Pogo could reach her, Didi was already at the study door. She didn’t bother knocking before ripping the door open so hard it shook the frame. Reginald stood up from behind his desk in surprise, his eyes squinting behind his monocle as he cautiously observed Didi.

“Hello, Reginald.” Didi fought the temptation to barrel forward and shove his monocle down his throat while she pressed down on his windpipes. She needed answers.

“Number 8, what are-”

“Shut up.”

Reginald looked appalled. 

“What did-”

“Shut up.” She moved closer to him, rounding the desk that had always been a barrier. It used to give him power. Now it was the only thing protecting him. “I have very little to lose, and everything to gain, but just one question. Be an honest man, Reginald, for once in your goddamn life. What was your intention in supplying me with benzomencaciumpines? Is it, and is it not, an untested type of memory suppressant?”

Reginald stood up defiantly from his seat. A cold, chilling anger was evident in his eyes. As if he had a right. Across the desk from one another, they instinctively walked around it.

“I do not appreciate you barging in here and accusing me like that, Number 8.”

“I’m not a fucking number, and I’m not your fucking guinea pig!” She yelled, pushing whatever documents he was reading over off his desk.

Pogo rushed in with Grace in tow, ready to intervene, but Reginald held up his hand to stop them.

“Number 8 just needs a moment to calm down.”

“My name is Dolores, you asshole. Answer my question.”

Reginald pondered the thought for a moment, like it was a grand decision to tell Didi what was eating her alive. He sat down in his chair behind the desk, and invited Didi to take a seat. She refused, choosing to stand over him in an effort for power.

“Benzomencaciumpines is exactly a memory suppressant. That was my intention.”

“Why?” She asked, struggling to keep her voice in tone. She could shift away the tightness in her throat, but it came right back. She felt tingly again, like she had all those years ago. A telltale sign she was becoming plastic. She’d stopped taking her anti-anxiety medicine, despite being told that it was the regular prescription from her doctor.

“I started the academy with a clean slate of children. I thought it best that when you joined, you wouldn’t be held back by remembering your parents.”

“You shouldn’t get to make that fucking decision. I should have been allowed to mourn them. I should be allowed to remember them.”

“Oh, you don’t remember them? Pity, perhaps I made the dosage too high.”

“Do you know how many people have died because of that drug? Because of my... my mutated insides?”

“No. Do you?”

“Their deaths are on your hands, Reginald.”

Pogo made a pointed cough in the back of the room. His expression was hard to read, shrouded by years of knowledge on how to keep a secret.

“Perhaps you should tell her, Master. Perhaps she should know.”

“What? Tell me–tell me what?”

“I don’t think it’s anyone’s best interest to know now, Pogo,” Reginald warned curtly.

“Tell me. Tell me, or I'll tell everyone you used me for human testing.”

“I assumed you already would, Number 8 – it’s your good deeds that killed people. I would have thought you wanted to shift the blame regardless. Taking accountability was never the academy’s strong suit.”

“It’s Dolores, you fu-”

“You chose to take those pills, did you not? You chose to make those bodily donations, did you not? I never told you to do any of that, Number 8. No good deed goes unpunished.”

She clenched her fists, her fingernails drawing the bubbling blood in her body.

“Tell me, or I'll tell everyone about the apocalypse. I have proof, and I will be believed.”

That got to him. Didi didn’t feel proud about using the apocalypse as leverage, her heart sinking with the thought of how Five would feel, but she had to be selfish. If she were more selfish, people wouldn’t have died from her.

“Fine.” He concluded. “I needed a new academy member after the disappearance of Number 5.”

He needed one?

He...

No.

“I wanted a skillset that was more covert, easier to control than what the Umbrella Academy were already presenting.”

No.

“I had kept meticulous files on potential super-abled children, in case of such an emergency.”

No. No, he...

“It would be easier to... adapt you to the academy if you had no baggage.”

He...

He killed them.

Didi launched across the desk at Reginald.

She ripped his monocle, and it cracked. She relished in the deep scarlet it drew on his cheek.

She wrapped her hands around his frail neck, the useless scratching at her hands only spurring her on more. She felt something digging into her knees as she kneeled on the desk. Her muscles strained with strength and pure rage.

His eyes started to bulge a little, a prominent, deep blue vein protruding on his pale and wrinkly skin.

She could hear yelling in the room, and hands way too small to have that power take her away from Reginald. She clawed at his skin, catching some of his face with her. It felt rubbery, like latex.

Turning to scream at Reginald as Grace carried her away, Didi could see the impact of her struggle.

She never could shift into Reginald, no matter how hard she tried.

But you can’t shift into what’s not human.

Chapter Text

Apocalypse, 2029.

10 years.

Five Hargreeves had spent 10 years in the apocalypse.

He was 23 now. 23 and no way home.

After 10 years, he hadn’t done anything but blink one time.

The destruction of the moon had to have caused the apocalypse. The Umbrella Academy had to have died trying to stop it. Why else would they all be gathered at the academy?

What would have caused the moon to explode?

Which academy member had powers like that?

Who did the eye belong to?

Although Viktor wasn’t with the rest of the academy, Five had found his body crumpled in ruins nearby shortly after arrival. Viktor’s absence from the rest of the siblings didn’t strike him as odd, but sad. At the end of the world, at least the academy was together. Viktor had no one.

One body unaccounted for.

By the time Five learnt what she looked like, bodies were decomposing. There was no way to find her. All he had to go off was the thought she would have had the umbrella tattoo, just like the rest of them. After learning about her existence, Five combed through the surrounding area.

But her body was missing from the academy. Missing from anywhere. No tattoo.

And if her body was missing...

Was Didi Hargreeves the cause of the apocalypse?

That didn’t make sense. Her ability was shapeshifting. A weak power, compared to the rest of the academy.

“Five, darling?”

But her body wasn’t found.

Five stared into the moonless sky from their bedroom window.

How would she have done it?

She couldn’t.

How could she have done it?

She wouldn’t.

Unless...

No.

There was no physical way Didi could have started the apocalypse. She was useless in comparison. A nothing. A filler to keep numbers up for his father’s precious academy.

But her body was never found.

It was the only clue he had.

“Oi. Hello?”

After 10 years, all he had was a missing body and a prosthetic eye.

Five had seen pictures of Didi. He knew she wore glasses. The eye colour didn’t match, but maybe she wanted to change it. Her eyes were freakishly blue anyway. Too much.

It could be her prosthetic eye. Her eye could have ruptured. Popped out of its socket in a freak accident or a purposeful attack.

So, the academy would have been fighting her.

Where the fuck was her body?

“At least take me with you?”

Body.

Body.

Everyone has a body.

He made his way to the living room, marker uncapped and ready.

The arm could have been torn off. No arm, no tattoo, no identification.

No arm. Body, no arm.

Left or right?

He rolled up his own sleeves to check.

Left.

Left arm gone.

Tattoo removal? He would have seen scars.

None of them looked like Didi.

Did he make a mistake?

Didi. Didi. Didi Hargreeves.

Something wasn’t clicking.

Left arm.

No body.

Shapeshifter.

Impossible.

He followed the huffs of Dolores back into the bedroom.

No left arm.

A body.

Mannequin?

Impossible.

“What is your last name?” His voice was dry and crackly. He knew what he looked like. He could see the concern flash in her eyes. Chipped. Worn. Blue.

Impossible.

“I don’t think I have one, Five. What’s going on?”

Impossible.

“But you have a first name.”

“Dolores is just what the store called me.”

Impossible.

“You don’t have a left arm.”

“No, it got torn off. I think. I’m not too sure.”

Impossible.

“How are you conscious?”

“I... I don’t know.”

Impossible.

“You’re not a figment of my – Australian.”

“What?”

No arm.

Blue. Blue eyes.

Australian.

Didi.

Impossible.

There was fear in Dolores’ eyes. Pure fear.

Something wasn’t clicking.

He was scaring Dolores. The woman he loved, the woman he cherished, was scared of him.

What was he thinking?

There were too many coincidences. Coincidences that didn’t align with anything.

Dolores was Dolores, as she always had been.

“I... I’m...”

“Five?”

“I’m sorry. I thought I had a breakthrough.”

“About the apocalypse?”

Because if his line of thinking was right, then his Dolores would have caused the apocalypse. That wasn’t right, it couldn’t be. Even in the worst-case scenario, it didn’t line up.

Dolores was not Didi.

Didi Hargreeves didn’t cause the apocalypse.

And he still had no way of getting home.

“Not about the apocalypse.” He said solemnly.

“About... me?”

“Is there anything to break through with you?”

“Of course not, darling.”

Of course not. She was his Dolores.

He was reminded of that every time he nervously stroked the torn, velvet box in his pocket.

His Dolores wouldn’t hurt him. His Dolores wouldn’t lie to him.

Days passed and melted into weeks. They were never quite the same, fractured ever so slightly. A sense of distrust from both ends, a feeling of betrayal, hindering their conversations. Weeks turned into months, and the atmosphere continued to be tense. His birthday came and went.

He’d tried to explain what he was thinking, but there was no way to say it without sounding accusative to Dolores. He felt terrible, and he knew she did too.  

Five stood in their expansive backyard, cracked stone and patio with weeds creeping through. He hoisted the gun up and aimed at the preprepared empty alcohol bottles that were lined up neatly on a broken log. The taste of the wine was a craving on his tongue.

His shot was near perfect now.

Dolores sat on a nearby lounger, sunglasses on to protect her eyes and a magazine propped open for her viewing.

She called out to him, her abrupt voice tight with anticipation.

“Do you want to marry me?”

Five lowered the gun in shock.

“Pardon?”

“Well, we’re not getting any younger.” She huffed out with a dry laugh. “So, do you want to marry me?”

“Are you proposing right... now?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Five could see the hesitancy on her face. Her eyes were hidden by the glasses, but Five knew they were nervous.

“And this is how you want to do it?” He asked, incredulous.

“Well, you’re not asking.”

“Did you want me to? This isn’t something we’ve talked about.”

“I’ve tried to talk about it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. You would just clamp up. Like, schwoop.” Dolores mimicked a clam seizing up.

She was right, of course.

“Wow.” His thumb traced the broken box in his pocket as he stared into her shifty eyes. “So, this is your proposal?”

“Depends if you say yes.”

“I say no.”

Five was deadpan, but he could feel the smirk tugging at his lips. Dolores looked surprised, trying to mask the sadness at his response. She simply shrugged her shoulders and turned to look at the moss-ridden, crumbling gazebo.  

“Pity.” She mumbled.

His heart was thundering in his chest as he sat down next to Dolores. The lounger dipped slightly with the weight change and creaked underneath him. The box burned a hole in his pocket.

“I’d like to, one day.” Five reassured Dolores, folding the magazine away so he could hold her hand. “Every day not being your husband is a pity.”

Dolores stared at him, mouth agape. Not often was she at a loss for words.

“You… yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Are you proposing to me now?”

“Do you forgive me for before? The whole…”

“Five, I’ve already forgiven you. Stop making it into something bigger, you’ll only psyche yourself out.”

“It is something big. I felt like I was on the verge of something.”

Dolores wiggled her hand out of his grasp and drew her legs in closer to her body.

“Something about me being evil.” She whispered to herself.

“No, no, that’s not what I said.”

“That was the conclusion you were coming to, though, no?”

“No!”

“Just that I could have caused the apocalypse? That I was lying to you the whole time?”

“Yes, but-”

“What if that was true, Five? What then?”

“It’s not.” He didn’t understand where Dolores was coming from. Why would it be true? How, even?

“You don’t know that.”

Five dragged his hands down his face, the scratch of his beard irritating him.

“Fucking hell – do you, Dolores?”

“I-I don’t know!”

What?

WHAT?

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know!”

“What aren’t you telling me, Dolores?”

“I – I don’t – if you’ve lived in the future, it must happen.”

“You keep fucking saying that – is this a future scenario to you? In a way that’s different to mine?”

She paused. Her chest heaved with sorrow. She didn’t know how to answer. Which means she had an unfathomable answer.

Five began to see her for what she was, like all those years ago when they first met. Someone not to be trusted. Not even someone, a piece of plastic.

The box pressed deeper into his thigh, sure to leave red indents as he sat uncomfortably with it.

“Dolores, what’s going on?”

Five loved her. Five loved his Dolores.

“Years ago, when we were 16, you disappeared for 8 days. What happened?” He pressed on.

She was eerily like him, but different in the best ways. However, she was never guarded. Not like she was now. She stared at him, concern and guilt in her eyes. If he pushed hard enough, she’d break. He’d normally pick up the pieces, but he wasn’t sure if that was to be the case this time.

When Dolores fell apart, her plastic pieces cut up Five’s hands.

“You’re too kind.” She whispered bitterly, as if anything was his fault. As if he were the root cause of everything wrong in her life with such a sweet compliment.

“Too kind?” Five repeated. “Too kind? What does that have to do with anything?”

“And you were so, so lonely. I was too, I suppose.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I was curious at first. I wanted to know you. Then I wanted to be your friend. Then your lover. Your partner. I never had any right to be.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You can’t.”

“You could try to fucking explain it, Dolores.”

“No, no – it – I can’t.”

Five loved his Dolores.

This didn’t seem like her anymore.

“I need a minute.”

He pushed off the lounger, running his fingers through his greasy hair, and walked. There were acres of land behind the mansion with trees sprawling on for miles. His gun swung at his side, his thick coat done up to protect him from the cold.

Couldn’t what? Explain it? What could be so bad?

Was he right?

Was Dolores Didi?

She’d seen pictures of Didi. Physical comparisons could be made. Same nose shape. Jawline. Eyes.

No, he couldn’t be. Dolores would have told him.

Right?

He didn’t know anymore.

The sun was turning the sky a brilliant shade of orange that always reminded him of Dolores as he walked. He was blue, she was orange. Opposite but complementary.

He found a road. The bitumen was cracked with weeds but he followed it to wherever it would lead. Broken trees, cars littering the roads, skeletons sitting morbidly in the seats.

It had been much longer than a minute. But he wasn’t ready to return.

The road led to a town they’d already explored, the walls marked with his scrawls of equations that he could never solve. He was close. He had to be. He’d find the formula to get home. He just needed a moment. Clear his head, talk to Dolores, put to bed whatever happened, and find a way home. Hopefully, that would settle the feeling erupting in his stomach. He didn’t know what to call it – not hunger, not anxiety, not humiliation – something else.

Five turned the corner into the destroyed library. Stacks of books lined the walls, rubble surrounded the floor. There were two fold-out chairs from when Five and Dolores were here last. A half finished bottle of wine sat in the drink compartment of one of the chairs with the lid screwed on tightly. It might still be fine to drink. He squinted at the label and saw it was Bordeaux – Dolores’ favorite wine, but something he wasn’t too keen on. Now he knew why it was half empty.

He took the pen from his pocket and grabbed the closest book. As he moved the book, debris shifted and fell, revealing something hidden underneath them.

A lunchbox. The smell was disgusting, as if it had rotten food, and it pricked his eyes slightly. He coughed and gagged, but the lunchbox itself caught his eye. It was an Umbrella Academy lunchbox, an edition from when he was still in the academy. Apart from Viktor, they were drawn like cartoons in their uniform and addressed by their numbers, the title of the academy over a black umbrella in the corner.

His family. He kneeled down to have a closer look, fighting the smell.

He missed them. He wiped the tears from his face as his hands hovered over them, conscious of not wanting to contract whatever mold disease was in the lunchbox.

Five would do anything to see them again.  

The sound of rubble shifting behind him made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and a shot of adrenaline run through him. Nothing was alive in this hellscape except for him and Dolores.

His hands were already pulling up his gun to aim, his eye trained through the scope to see…

Someone. An alive someone. A walking, breathing, waving, someone alive.

Her gloved hand waved almost playfully at him, and a coy smile painted the deepest red on her lips. Her platinum hair was coiled and curled under a small black hat and matched the rest of her outfit – a large coat and thick sunglasses, despite the setting sun.

Another person.

Chapter Text

Five didn’t return as the sun set. Fine, he needed more time. Didi couldn’t blame him, she’d probably have done the same thing. Given her track record, she might of punched him.

Her throat was scratched from the confession trying to crawl out. She was in disbelief that it almost succeeded. What then?

She can’t imagine how it must have seemed to Five. He wasn’t stupid, but she was surprised she’d been able to keep up this facade for long enough.

Maybe it was time to tell the truth. Didn’t Five deserve it? Maybe he’d get over it. Maybe he’d be happy to have a human. Maybe he’d like to know how his family is going, not that she’d seen much of them since Allison’s wedding, and that was 2 years ago.

Didi tried to settle into sleep, hoping to wake up and find a way to either explain or weasel her way out of whatever this was. But sleep evaded her.

The stars dipped below the horizon, and the sun shone brightly with no Five. Only natural, she supposed. Things were too tense. Didi might’ve come back already, but it wasn’t fair to blame Five.

But the sun set again. And rose again. And set again. And rose again. And again. And again.

And again.

And again.

If there were a moon, she could tell how much time had passed. It was hard to count the days. There were so many of them.

The sun rose. And set. And again.

Didi couldn’t go to sleep.

The sun rose. And set. And again.

Didi couldn’t leave the apocalypse.

The sun rose. And set. And again.

Didi was stuck, paralysed in her plastic body.

The sun rose. And set. And again.

It could have been months. Felt like years. Might have been.

It was.

Hard to tell.

Five wasn’t coming back.

Where did he go?

The sun rose.

The sun set.

No moon to tell time.

Didi lost count.

Screamed. 

Screamed till her voice went hoarse. 

Couldn’t talk.

Couldn’t move.

Mind shut off.

Zone out.

Can’t sleep.

Sun rise.

Sun set.

More than 100.

More than 1000.

If she could move,

she’d kill herself.

Where was Five?

Sun rise.

Sun set.

Five?

Gone.

Left her.

Where?

Where was

there to

go?

Sun rise.

Sun set.

Wasn’t covered in dust. 

No human around to make it.

Moss. Moss crept around her.

Poison Ivy looking bitch.

Paint melted. Could feel it

trickle

down

her face.

Like tears she never cried.

More than 2000.

2000… 6?

6 years?

No.

Five wouldn’t leave her for that

long.

Five was gone.

Maybe Five lost.

Try scream again!

6 years…

Impossible.

She’d be

30.

Old. Wasted 20’s.

Gag.

More than…

No more.

End now.

Make it end now.

Roll off chair onto sharp rock.

Move.

Move.

MOVE.

Can’t.

Kill self.

Can’t.

Hate self.

Can.

Think?

Rapid. Rapid thoughts.

No stimulation. 

Insane?

Nah. Can’t be.

...

Could be.

A SOUND!

FIVE!

FIVE BACK!

LOVE FIVE!

SORRY FIVE!

Not Five.

Woman.

That woman.

Woman who killed Didi in her dreams.

Stupid smile.

Kill her.

Oh, she’s talking.

Shhh! Listen!

Try.

“Oh. You’re still conscious? Just like a cockroach, aren’t you, love?” Woman said. “Would you like to know how long you’ve been here for?”

“Bitch.” Didi speaks! Voice sound bad. Plastic melted inside?

“I did come with a proposition, but maybe I’ll leave you to rot. Can’t be long before you go insane.” Woman speak. Too late!

Didi talk now.

Nothing come out.

Proposition?

She know Five?

Woman wiped edge of sun chair with coat bottom. Woman sat.

Oh no.

“You’ve always been an interesting case, Didi. Able to visit the apocalypse in your sleep. Finding the Temps Commission number, relentlessly calling. Unable to die.”

“Not true.”

“We’ll see.” Bitch smiled.

“Killed people.”

“So have I, darling, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Proposition?” Tell Didi. How to leave. “Five?”

“Five? Oh, Dolores, I would be much worried about yourself.”

Name known.

Wait.

What the fuck does that mean?

“If you can survive here, and prove yourself... capable, you can leave the apocalypse.”

“Already survived so long.” Didi tried to argue.

“Not as a mannequin this time, as a human.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes.”

The woman, still with no name, undid the briefcase she came with.

She pulled out plastic limbs, all different colours and sizes. They didn’t match Didi at all.

The limbs were stuck onto Didi’s body. The green right leg was terrible.

Pain.

She felt pain for the first time in 6 years.

She felt the moss tickle her bare skin, her hair falling in her eyes.

Didi was human again.

With an arm too short and legs lopsided.

“Before I forget, Five wanted me to give you this. As in, he doesn’t want it anymore. You did quite a number on that boy, Dolores.” The woman held out a velvet and torn box.

“Five? Where is he?” Didi questioned as she took the box from her.

The woman fiddled with the buckles on the briefcase and shut it tightly. She stood, her lips curled in an ugly smirk.

“See you in 10 years.” The woman mocked before clicking the handle of the briefcase.

Didi lunged out to grab hold of the woman, desperately wanting to go with her.

There were so many questions she had.

But the woman disappeared in a flash of electric blue, leaving Didi sprawled on the ground and cut up from her lunge.

Cuts she couldn’t heal.

Just like Five, her abilities didn’t work.

She wouldn’t survive 10 years.

She’d be lucky to survive 2.

Tentatively, she opened the velvet box. It crumbled slightly in her hands.

A ring.

A lone diamond that shone in the afternoon sun settled on a simple silver band.

It fit perfectly.

And after 1 year and 3 months, far quicker than any doctor predicted, Didi hunched over herself. Her fingernails had turned black, her hair coming out in clumps. She oozed a tar-like substance from every orifice, her eyeballs turned to sludge.  

As she threw up, she could feel something lodged in her throat. Muscle, her stomach, she didn’t want to pull it out and find out. She could choke to death. Drown in blood, have her organs completely give out on her. 

All at once.

Her shrivelled lungs gave one last breath.

She ripped her glove off, hoping to catch a glimmer of her ring, hoping for it to be the last thing she could identify. 

It was also the first thing she saw.

Her alarm clock blared, jolting her awake to see her left hand, clamped around her pillow, baring the same ring. She could breathe again. Didi was well.

7 years she’d spent in the apocalypse.

Only 9 hours had passed in present time.

Chapter Text

2015

The effects of total and complete isolation were of major concern. Developing mental illness, emotional distress, suicidal thoughts, dementia and poor health behaviours were all possibilities.

Didi was built differently. 

Just don’t tell that to her tear-soaked pillow or the male mannequin without a face that lived in her bed. She’s well aware of the irony there.

A lack of any stimulation was also alarming. Negative consequences on brain development, an increase in irritability, frustration and displeasure were to be expected.

Didi was built differently.

Except, she wasn’t. 

So if she cut off her fingers because it was easier to shift when a dramatic change had occurred to her body, it was her business. Not because her time alone in the apocalypse had ruined her. Not because she deserved the pain she inflicted.

Not because she had died.

Returning to normal life was unavoidable. She didn’t trust a therapist to understand the complexity of her life, but she figured they’d tell her to return to her routine to establish a sense of normality.

But her routing always involved Five.

And she was afraid to sleep.

The day she returned, she’d feel the smoke of the apocalypse clogging up her nose every time she tried to breathe. She’d see her decaying reflection in cracked mirrors every time she shut her eyes.

Didi had no way of proving it, but if she fell asleep again, she was so sure she’d end up back in the apocalypse, without Five, and would be stuck there for another 6 years before someone remembered she existed.

Bitter caffeine she hated running through her system, Didi began to create a microchip that would replicate constant brain activity, therefore never allowing her brain to shut off and go to sleep. She could never shift her brain for whatever reason, so it wasn’t like she could just shift away the tiredness.

Didi couldn’t even test it before implanting it in the nape of her neck, praying that if it didn’t work, it would kill her quickly. She’d never had more blind faith in anything. 

She wasn’t stupid.

She was really, really stupid.

Within 31 hours, and with resources from various science labs and facilities she had access to, Didi had created the chip. Sleep deprived and working with untested technology, she cut open the back of her neck and shoved the chip in, hoping it would catch on to something in her body and keep her awake. 

Didi immediately fell into a state of paralysis as her body was wrecked with too many electrical currents.

If Didi wanted to die on the floor of some pristine lab as she bled out on the floor, that was her choice. Not because she didn’t want to die. Not because she wanted to die.

Not because she had died.

But Didi was fine. She came out of the paralysis naturally, and only endured that state for 5 minutes every 8 hours. As time went on, the paralysis ceased and turned into a searing heat instead, till it trickled into a sharp buzzing, like pins and needles all over her body. 

She had, however, become a recluse. She didn’t go outside anymore unless necessary. Didn’t go to work, lived off royalties accumulated, and definitely didn’t see her family.

Didi felt bad about neglecting and isolating herself from her family, but she simply couldn’t do it. Either she didn’t deserve their edged company, or she couldn’t relate to them. How was she supposed to say she was the eldest Hargreeves, despite still looking 22?

Supposed to be 25. 4 years till the end of the world. Less time than she’d spent in the apocalypse – easy shit.

Allison had a child. A girl, Claire, around 2 years old now. Didi had received invitations to her baby showers and birthdays, but she never responded. Didi wondered if she was considered for Godparent.

The feeling of displeasure and disappointment in everything only grew when it was announced that Luther would be travelling to the moon by the media and confirmed by Reginald himself. The asshole.

Although Didi never made any further attempts to see Luther after her diagnosis, except for the one where Pogo scolded her at the front door, the fact that she never could see him again stung.

Now Luther would be isolated and alone. On the moon. The moon that Reginald fully knows doesn’t exist in the future. It was hard to not see it as Reginald sending Luther to die.

The academy had never been more scattered. It was only made worse when Viktor published his tell-all, Extra-Ordinary – My Life as Number 7. Didi had done her best to read it during her time being a human in the apocalypse, and dreaded the day it would come. Not enough to ask Viktor to stop, because she wasn’t meant to know about the book in the first place. Also, she was never sure of all of it due to being partially and then fully blind.

Allison was in an uproar about it, denouncing the mean but truthful things written about her. Even Klaus shared his opinion in it, praising Viktor for being braver than all of them. Diego had said Viktor lived a completely different life to the rest of them, and would never understand what it took to be a member of the Umbrella Academy. Didi had no opinion, she’d already had her time to come to terms with it. She didn’t love the idea of the public knowing what a shitshow their lives were, and Viktor was quite critical of a lot of choices made. He’d even sewn in this idea that Didi felt personally responsible for Ben’s death, which she absolutely did – but it was none of Viktor’s business. 

Didi passed the time by sticking googly eyes on her various organ-filled jars around her apartment. It brought a little smile to her face. She’d stare at the moon whenever it rose, on the off chance she could see Luther from that distance. She’d hypothesise about the apocalypse, call Reginald and leave venomous voicemails she knew only Grace or Pogo would listen to, and do the absolute bare minimum to take care of herself. Not that you could tell, of course. She looked as fresh as the morning she stopped aging.

She wished she couldn’t recognise her reflection in the mirror, to place some distance between who she was and who she is. Of course, thanks to her fuckface adopter, she had to stare at the same face that occasionally popped up in articles about the 2000’s.  

The lights of Griddy’s Diner flicked above her as she downed the last of her hot chocolate. Even after death, coffee was still too bitter. Didi thanked the waitress and began the walk home. She could have driven, but she missed the burn of dance, and walking was close enough. She didn’t expect it to rain, though.

Nor did she expect to get thrown into an alley but some hooded assailants. One pushed her sharply against the brick wall, the other pulling a knife up to her stomach. She should have driven.

Their gruff voices asked for money and valuables, but Didi could pick up the notes of fear when they spoke. Not that she cared to do anything. She made no moves to attack, no moves to give them what they wanted. She supposed she wanted to see how far they would go.

“Come on, you bitch!” Didi felt the knife press deeper into her skin, almost enough to draw blood. “We’ll fucking kill you.” Their voices were higher now, still aggressive but almost desperate. Desperate for Didi to give them money so they wouldn’t have to kill her.

“Good luck with that.” She rolled her head back onto the brick. “Go for the neck, much more fun.”

The one with the knife pulled her hand out, looking for some jewellery on her wrist. Instead, he found the tattoo.

“Fuck,” He whispered. “No, wait, you’re way too young to be one of those.”

The one who had her pinned to the wall moved his hold from her shoulders to her throat, cutting off her air supply.

“One of what?” He asked.

“One of the, fuck, the academy kids.”

“What, the Umbrella Academy?”

“Yeah. No, she must just be a super fan.”

“Want to bet?” Didi choked out.

Before they could answer, the man holding her doubled over in pain. She hadn’t even hit them yet. His hands fumbled over a knife that Didi had definitely not put there. His partner went to comfort him before he crumpled down with a knife plunged in his thigh.

Didi turned to face the new attacker, their features shrouded in the dark of night. Their silhouette was briefly lit up by the faltering streetlamps. They’d almost be intimidating if Didi hadn’t absolutely destroyed them in SingStar: 80s.

“Hey, Diego.” She calmly said, shifting away from the pain and anxiety from the attack. She stepped over the two crying men as Diego roughly pulled out his knives.

“Didi. Didn’t realise it was you there.” He wiped his blood-soaked knives on his all-black outfit. Didi couldn’t help but pick up on the stylistic hints of leather. Maybe Diego was attractive after all.

“Surprise. Gonna go home now.”

She swerved to continue on her way, but Diego followed.

“That’s it? No, thank you?” Diego fell into step with Didi. She kept her eyes trained ahead. She’d avoided the academy for years, she wasn’t about to break down to them. Especially not Diego, no matter how leather-clad.

“Didn’t know you did this for the praise.”

“I don’t. Why didn’t you fight those guys off?”

“Didn’t want to.”

“You were just going to let them rob you?”

“No.”

“Or kill you? Didi, that’s-”

“Can’t die here.”

“-insane, you should have whooped their asses.”

“That’s what you’re for.”

Diego rolled his eyes. Didi took in the new scars on his visible skin, his shortly cropped hair, and his lack of any police attire. She knew he’d quit the police force, didn’t know why. She could guess the regime reminded him too much of Reginald. Always wanting to be the best, more freedom in...

“What is this?” Didi asked.

“What’s what?”

“Like...” She gestured over him. “This. You cosplaying Batman?”

“Alright, Martian Manhunter.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“You don’t...?” Diego was incredulous. Didi just stared blankly at him before reminding herself she shouldn’t be looking at all. She was falling too easily into nice conversation, she didn’t deserve it. She whispered a quick “nerd” under her breath.

“I’m a vigilante.” He replied with a hint of pride. More freedom in vigilanteism. Oh, Jesus.

“Yeah? What do you do for an income?”

“Haha.”

They walked in silence for a minute more. Didi scolded herself for enjoying it.

“What did you even end up doing when you got out of there?” Diego asked. It wasn’t lost on Didi how he had exploded all those years ago, and apparently didn’t even know what she did.

“You don’t know? You just assumed I was... what was it, ‘riding on dad’s coat tails’? Again, not my dad.”

“Yeah. I was angry that you hadn’t come with me. Eudora was there, the police academy was not what I expected. For what it’s worth, it wasn’t my best moment.”

“Hm.” Didi savoured the almost apology. Not wanting to go into anything medical-related, she gave him a simple answer. “Dancer.”

“Oh...” Diego hesitated. Didi couldn’t believe she was about to have to explain what the fuck a ballerina was. “What... uh, club?”

He thought she was a stripper.

Not one to miss out on an opportunity to make fun of him, she went with it.

“The Penguin’s Club. Your stutter has gotten heaps better.”

“Yeah, only really had it when I was tense or scared. No point being scared.”

“Do stutters work like that?” She asked as they turned another corner.

“I don’t know, I’m not a fucking therapist.”

“You’d benefit from some.”

“So would you, CPR.”

“Too complex.” The words came out bitterly. Diego laughed dryly at that.

They stood in front of her apartment building. Didi had the feeling Diego was expecting her to invite him up, offer him a drink, but Didi knew exactly what her apartment looked like. Mannequin in her bed, scientific research about the moon, scribbles about the apocalypse, blood-stained bath, and of course – dying parts of her body stashed in mason jars with fucking googly eyes on them.

“Good night.” She said, as swiftly as she tried to leave before, and this time, Diego didn’t argue.

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” He waved and walked away.

“Sure thing.”

Didi had every intention of not upholding that promise.

But the attack left her thinking. She could be doing more to help. She missed doing something more. The world was ending, the least she could do was to benefit society again, this time hopefully in a way that wouldn’t lead to a still unidentifiable amount of dead bodies.

She made plans to open up a homeless shelter. Maybe even operate a thrift store. Finders Keepers, she’d call it. Could have lots of mannequins in there, a fun little nod to herself.

Didi twirled the engagement ring around her finger. She might never be happy again. At least she could try to make others content.

Chapter Text

2018.

Let us do something, while we have the chance!

Warm. He was so warm. Didi had never felt warmth like that before. His lips gently caressed hers, his arms slinking around her waist.

I can’t go on like this. That’s what you think.

He pressed deeper, pulling her tighter, all-consuming. His hand threaded through her hair, the other softly tracing circles into her waist under her oversized white shirt.

That’s how it is on this bitch of an earth.

His skin was unmarred by scars. Clean, innocent, pure. Didi felt the distinct lack of muscle as her hands glided over his stomach.

Did I ever leave you? You let me go.

His mouth was hot against her neck. She could feel him trail lightly down, unsure of himself. Of course, he was. So was she, Didi supposed.

There’s no lack of void.

He fumbled with her shirt. It was so easy to pretend. It only had to go as far as Didi wanted.

We always find something, eh Didi, to let us think we exist?

But she could only wait for so long before her life could start. His fingers teased the strap of her bra, sliding it delicately off her shoulder and placing hesitant kisses in his wake.

We wait. We are bored.

Her moans catch in her mouth. He tries to draw them out. He doesn’t know how.

Let’s go.

He’s not…

We cannot.

But he could be…

Why not?

Just pretend.

We’re waiting for –

“Five.”

We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment.

Earlier.

An office. She had her own office. It was nothing special, and she did her best to make it as un-academy-like as she could. Still, Didi had an office.

More than that, Didi had a whole fucking shop connected to her office. But the shop didn’t store an emergency gun, nor did it have a 2019 calendar with the 1^st of April circled in the chunkiest red marker possible, but it was still pretty neat.

A shop with a soup kitchen also attached. And a shower area for people without access to one. If Didi couldn’t be happy, the least she could do was make others content.

Didi tried to give people jobs, tried to provide to the community in beneficial ways. Her business had been running for 2 years now, and no one had died. Not anyone she knew about.

She strived to be everything Reginald wasn’t. Wanted to leave something akin to a legacy, something that would make her children proud if she were to have any. She wouldn’t even have a kid. No future to raise them in, and there’s every chance a foetus growing in her wouldn’t survive her dying organs if she allowed herself to age. Just another thing Reginald had ripped away from her. Her own chance at a family.

A family.

Maybe the closest she’d ever get was the academy she now kept a heavy distance from. Or maybe it was the mannequins compiled at the centre of the store with the same vacant eyes she had whenever she looked in the mirror.

As Didi spun the engagement ring gently around her finger, she wondered if it still meant anything. She hadn’t seen Five for 10 years. That’s 10 years he could have figured out some sort of equation to come back home. Didi had tried too, staying up all night mashing numbers together until she got jolted by the chip in her neck. But she had no way of testing it. Many different equations could have worked, but they remained hypothesise.

Five could test it. Theoretically.

So, either he was happy in a new life he’d created for himself, or he never found the answer. Didi liked to believe it was the latter.

But maybe she should stop doing that. The world was going to end in less than a fucking year, and she was pinning over a man she hadn’t seen in a decade, the features of his face growing hazier every time she was shocked.

What if he came back?

What if he… didn’t?

Was she always going to wait for something she’d half forgotten? Someone who never promised to return again? Someone who might have forgotten her, too?

The door chimed, alerting the staff that a new customer was in the store. Grateful for the distraction, Didi eagerly walked to greet, but her smile promptly fell. Feelings of guilt overflowed in her stomach. She hated having to face the consequences of her actions.

A stark contrast from the formality of the academy, blazers and slacks, Viktor stood in an oversized jacket and a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. From the surprise in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting to see her here either.

Was she meant to say hello? Viktor publicly aired all of the academy’s secrets. Except for her mannequin thing, if he even knew. Did he even know? Was he expecting her to say hello?

He walked right back out the door, ignoring the greetings of the cashier behind the counter. Didi followed him out, standing in the doorway, watching his retreating figure. A feeling she’d almost forgotten about bubbled away.

She shouldn’t have cared, she wasn’t talking to any member of the academy.

Not every Umbrella Academy member insinuated that she had a hand in killing Ben.

Didi called out to him on the busy street. Her worker's apron flapped in the wind noisily. Viktor slowly turned around to look at her. Didi wasn’t going to wait for him to come to her. So many years feeling numb, she’d forgotten other feelings existed.

“Hey, Viktor,” she started, the honey in her voice dangerously thick. She wanted him to suffocate a little. “Long time, no see.”

“Hi, Didi.” He offered quietly. If he shoved his hands any further into his pockets, he’d break the seam.

“Been up to much?”

“Um, yeah, you know-”

“Must of been real busy since the book drop. How many copies did you sell?”

Viktor fell silent. 

“Ever send it to Reginald? Do you think he bothered reading it? Did you get a copy sent to the moon for Luther?”

“Didi-”

“Poor Luther. You could go insane living by yourself like that, you know. The isolation. Of course, you’d know about that. You felt isolated, didn’t you?” She mocked. She meant to. Her stomach dipped at the fallen look on Viktor’s face, but she still pressed on. “Suppose I should thank you that the worst thing to come out about me was my… what was it?”

“Didi, just-”

“My secrets? A suspicion that I was involved in Ben’s death? Must be it. My weird obsession with Five.” Didi shouldn’t have been that mad. Viktor was absolutely right - she did nothing to stop Ben’s death, she was always thinking about Five, even now twirling the engagement ring. She had her secrets. They were destroying her, but not quickly enough to do anything about it.

But it felt good to be angry. She hadn’t talked like this in years. Not since Reginald.

And Viktor was right there. He wasn’t going to stand up for himself. He never fucking did. He pretend to understand, but despite being a number he was never a team member.

“Yeah. Yeah, good chat. Anyway, good luck with the orchestra stuff, right? Violin? Break an arm!”

“It’s break a leg.”

“Oh, yeah?” She knew. Of course she fucking knew. What did he think she was, murderous and stupid? She was only one of those things.

She needed to calm down. After years of bottling, she was having trouble.

“Ben was my brother, too. Five as well. I’m... I’m sorry.”

No fucking way. Viktor was that much of a pushover that he would apologise?

The anger fell away to a familiar indifference.

“You had to process. It’s whatever.”

“You have every right to be upset.”

So do you.

Ignore that.

“I’m sorry too.” She smiled.

Didi did something she hadn’t done with Diego. Maybe it’s because she actually saw Diego as a friend and didn’t want him to be worried. Maybe because Viktor would be too stressed out to take note of his surroundings. Or he’d be too polite or shy to comment on them.

Didi invited Viktor to her apartment.

“Hey, do you want to properly catch up? My apartment is literally there.” She pointed across the road, already untying her apron behind her back. He meekly nodded.

They made idle small talk as they went to her apartment. He was easy to make smile, and Didi forced hers to reach her eyes.

“I don’t really think you’re responsible for Ben’s death.” He offered.

“I could never even harm Ben. A completely fruitless accusation.”

“I did send a copy to Dad.”

“Oh, you did? What, addressed it and everything? Signed it for him?”

“Yeah, kinda. He never responded, no mail or phone call.”

“I wouldn’t wait for him to respond. Man’s an asshole.”

She shoved a coffee mug into his hands, preoccupying him with her Bulbasaur mug so he wouldn’t notice the equations scrawled on paper that littered every single available surface. She forced him to sit down on her couch and busied herself with tidying the area up.   

“What’s that?” Viktor asked. Didi instinctively brought her shaking hands up to the back of her neck. “Looks like a fresh scar.”

“I didn’t let it heal properly. It doesn’t bother me, doesn’t pus anymore. It’s fine.”

“Hey, it’s your neck.”

Didi offered him a small smile. It was her neck. It was her body. Reginald could never take that away from her.

He peered at her over his coffee mug before promptly looking away.

What a weird look.

“I, um, I didn’t know you got married,” Viktor said, his eyes avoiding hers again.

“Not married.” She had to remind herself. “Engaged. But he...” What was a good reason to explain the fiancé who never proposed and was maybe even dead? No, Five was too clever for that.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Didi.” He didn’t press.

“It’s... yeah, sometimes, you just get... tired, you know?”

“No, can’t say I’ve ever been married.”

“You ever had a relationship? Doesn’t seem like healthy relationships are a common thing with the Hargreeves.”

“You’re a Hargreeves, too!” Didi inwardly flinched at the reminder.

“It’s how I know, Viktor. So, any dates?”

“Well... no, actually. I don’t know, I thought there was something with someone for a minute, a friend from the orchestra, but it just kind of fizzled out.”

Didi zoned out. Viktor happily chatted away, something about this and that. When he was happy, his eyes shone. Didi had seen that before. He’d discarded his jacket in favour of the buzzing heater, his arms now moving freely. He’d never been so expressive. Maybe all he wanted was to be heard.

Viktor sat too close for Didi to feel nothing. There was no attraction, no want, just a desperate need to not be alone. Nothing for him. She’d been alone for so long. And he sat there, with eyes like Five’s. But he wasn’t who she wanted. He wasn’t who she was waiting for.

Five wasn’t fucking coming. And Didi was alive, and Viktor was here. Five left her. Without hearing her out, without any explanation, they just left her to die. To die with his stupid ring. He knew nothing.

And Viktor was so, so warm. A pushover. Didi didn’t want this. Didi just didn’t want to be alone. It was freezing in her head.

Warm. He was so warm. Didi had never felt warmth like that before. His lips gently caressed hers, his arms slinking around her waist. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t what she wanted. It was all she could fucking get.

He pressed deeper, pulling her tighter, all-consuming. His hand threaded through her hair, the other softly tracing circles into her waist under her oversized white shirt. It felt like a knife to the side.

His skin was unmarred by scars. Clean, innocent, pure. Didi felt the distinct lack of muscle as her hands glided over his stomach, the diamond ring catching the light. What was she doing?

His mouth was hot against her neck. She could feel him trail lightly down, unsure of himself. Of course, he was. So was she, Didi supposed.

He fumbled with her shirt. It was so easy to pretend. It only had to go as far as Didi wanted. Anything to distract.

But she could only wait for so long before her life could start. His fingers teased the strap of her bra, sliding it delicately off her shoulder and placing hesitant kisses in his wake.

Her moans catch in her mouth. He tries to draw them out. He doesn’t know how.

He’s not…

But he could be…

Just pretend.

“Five.” Didi breathed aloud. His name felt like acidic sugar on her tongue, and she craved the burn. Craved him.

But he wasn’t who was in front of her.

Viktor stared at her with a mix of shock and disgust. It was nice to know he had a limit.

He left without a word, leaving her in the freezing cold.

6 months till the end of the world.

Didi was not a saint, but she would keep that appointment.

Chapter Text

9 days.

Didi picked up the phone to call again, ready to take her biweekly trip to voicemail.

“Hey, Pogo,” she began. She waved goodbye to her workers as they filtered out of the shop. “Me again. Who else would it be?”

She stared at the bleary red circle on the calendar. It had crept forward so quickly. When the apocalypse happened, everyone would die - but she would be alive. Stuck as a mannequin, subdued in time. The thought had never properly occurred to her.

Not till now.

“Just thought I’d update you on how the whole ‘killing myself’ business was going. Not well, obviously. I’m still alive. This should be the last time I call you, though.” Her voice was shaky. She allowed it to be.

Didi unlocked the safe under the desk. It was decorated with random stickers from people who would soon be dead. Inside, locked up again, sat a gun in a glass case. She didn’t know what type it was, she just grabbed the cheapest one. Five would know.  If he were dead, she’d see him again. She had to. She had to apologise for everything. 

“I can’t, like, impact damage to my skin, it just turns into mannequin-shit, and I get found by my landlord as he drills me for my money. I don’t know why I didn’t just buy a house. The market was good, and I wouldn’t have to deal with that neighbour. I’ve told you about them, the one who always plays ABBA as loud as they can. And I love ABBA - that’s how bad it is.”

She slid the hidden key from under her keyboard and unlocked the gun. It was weighted in her hands. She held an awkward grip on it, not sure how to curl her fingers around it without wanting to vomit. It was cold. Every goddamn thing was.

“Can’t poison myself. Too slow affecting. Uh, what else have I tried… fuck, what else has there been? Can’t drown, still mannequin-fy. Tried burning, but I actually chickened out of that one. Now I’ve developed a phobia of fire - I freeze up, like, real bad. Ha, ironic. No, it’s like I’m turning into a mannequin, except I can feel the smoke all over my body, and I just get even more freaked out. You afraid of anything, Pogo?”

She flicked the safety off.

“I always assume it’s you listening to these. We both know it’s not gonna be fucking Reginald. Alien ass. Did you always know he was an alien? Grace, maybe, but I don’t think my stories would impact her as much. Maybe I just hope it’s you. Look, I won’t do it on call - I’d never be able to hang up! Just wanted to tell you I’m going to shoot myself in the mouth. Yeah.”

She held the gun shakily up to her chin. Her voice quaked.

“No skin to solidify, quick acting. I’d thought of it before. But I… yeah. I never really wanted to do it. Kill myself. But if I don’t, I’ll live forever in an apocalyptic world. I did it for like, seven years, and I’d rather kill myself. Mm.”

She took a deep breath and wiped the tears away from her blotchy red cheeks. Her heart thundered in her chest. 

“Tell Luther I love him. I’m sorry. He’s invited to the funeral. You are not. Unless you kill Reginald, or whatever. No, tell everyone I’m sorry. Especially Viktor. Bye, bystander.”

She hung up.

The gun tasted metallic as her tongue roamed around it. It scraped her teeth painfully, forcing her to recoil. 

3.

2.

Her phone rang.

Didi burst into tears, throwing the gun across the room. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it, even if it meant living by herself forever.

Through blurry eyes, she saw the grainy number of the academy on her screen. Shoving her glasses back on her face, she answered.

“Hello?” She sobbed. She should feel embarrassed by her breakdown, still tasting the gun on the tip of her tongue. Reginald would have a fit.

“Miss Dolores. I am calling to inform you that your father has just passed away.”

“Wh… huh?”

“I know this must be a lot to hear right now-”

“Hol-hol-hol…d on. Hold on.”

Didi crawled over to the discarded gun, her legs buckling in exhaustion, her palms digging into the rough carpet. She rolled up her sleeve, not wanting to ruin her blouse, and shot herself in the tattooed wrist. Pain ricocheted up her arm, and she forcefully dug the bullet out. Blood spilled out onto the floor, covered her hand, and seeped onto her pants. She cried out in anguish as she ripped her fingers out of her wound.  

She shifted to her morning state. No bullet wound, no blood on her, no sobs. Calm. Numb. The bullet she held in her hand was still covered in liquid crimson. She squeezed it tightly, dirtying her hands with oil and blood. It spread around her fingers, a stark constant to her glittering ring.

Why the fuck did he say it like that? Your father has passed away. What was he, a robot? Then again, how were you supposed to pass on that information?

“I’m ok. Reginald’s dead?”

Didi couldn’t feel anything but a violently quiet sense of satisfaction, tinged with jealousy she didn’t want to think about. He got to die before the end of the world. Didi and everyone else had to live through it. No mouth, must scream, type of shit. Maybe she’d kill the academy so they wouldn’t have to suffer with the rest of the world either.

Hey! Let’s not, Didi.

Sorry.

8 days.

Her chip jolted her as she swung the Umbrella Academy door open. The windows in the door cracked with a print of an umbrella, creating a false sense of uniformity. Branded, just like them.

She remembered how much rage she felt when she was last here. Now it was just a reminder of the monster she was. What he’d turned her into. What he’d taken from her. 

It was as cold as it always was. Icily beautiful, but even that beauty was fading. An empty foyer, devoid of anything resembling what a family home should look like. 

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Where was everyone? Did anyone even show up? Did they even bother? Maybe she shouldn’t have. She didn’t come for Reginald, or to mourn him like Pogo suggested. She came to see if the bastard was dead, came to see if he’d made any progress on the apocalypse.

She made her way up the steps, ignoring the lounge room with the oil paintings. She knew what awaited her there. It wasn’t anything she wanted to see. It wasn’t anything she could forget. As if she’d ever forget Five, how Reginald treated his memory like a warning. Well, did treat. 

Didi chuckled under her breath as she pushed the door open to his study. Papers were scattered everywhere, reminiscent of her own home. It was unlike the Reginald she was afraid of to have a dirty desk. It was like the Reginald she’d despised to have a mess.

Not for him, for her, she tidied it up. Her eyes dragged meticulously through every piece of paper, searching for evidence that he had a plan.

There was none.

Didi let go of the breath she’d held tightly. It really was the end of the world, and only she and Pogo knew.

“Miss Dolores,” Pogo said from the doorway. He looked well put-together, like he always did. His eyes carried an immense sadness Didi didn’t care to share.

“He’s gone.”

“I’m afraid so. I am sorry-”

“He’s gone, and there’s no plan.” She spat. “The great Reginald Hargreeves. Do you understand how fucked we are? I don’t even get to die in the apocalypse, Pogo. I live on as a fucking mannequin!”

“Miss Dolores, I wish I knew how to help you. I’m simply afraid I don’t.”

Didi didn’t bother dignifying him with an answer. She took one last sweep of the office before leaving, following the sounds of heavy footsteps down the corridor. The figure walking was tall and bulky, not reminiscent of anyone she grew up with. But unless Klaus swapped MDA for steroids…

“Luther?”

His hand hovered over Reginald’s bedroom doorknob as he turned to Didi. His face was gruff and his body massive, but it was Luther. Didi took off down the hallway, forgetting the study for just a moment, and wrapped herself around Luther. He held her back, lifting her easily off the ground before placing her down gently.

“Jesus, man!” She cried. He nodded, already knowing what she was going to say. He didn’t look proud of it. The words of compliment died in her tongue as his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He looked so happy a minute ago. “Are you… using again?”

“No, no, it’s not like that. Super strength did this.” He dismissed her question.

“Oh.” Didi allowed Luther to think she believed that. Didi didn’t really have a choice. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been… I was on the moon for the past 4 years.” His face was proud. Not happy, Didi noted, but proud.

“Oh, that’s so cool! I wondered where you’d been. I tried calling the house, and I never got a response. Could you see the Great Wall of China? I’ve always wondered that.”

“No, not with the naked eye. What about you? You look great! Really… young?”

“Ah, it’s the non-Hargreeves genetics.”

“None of us have Hargreeves genetics – we’re all adopted.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself now you’re back? Now that… Allison might be here?”

Luther rolled his eyes and opened the bedroom door. Peeking in, it looked pristine. Like it had never been used.

“Do you think he ever slept here?” Didi asked.

“I don’t think his body could’ve handled sleeping at a desk.” Luther entered the room, Didi trailing behind. They quietly searched together, not sure what the other was looking for.

“I can save you some time.” A voice said from the entrance. Didi swivelled quickly, seeing Diego leaning on the doorframe. “They’re all locked.” Luther drew his hand back from the window. “And there’s nothing of note in those drawers, either.” He nodded to Didi. “Nothing out of the ordinary. No struggle, no suicide note.”

“Sorry if I don’t trust your judgment. Maybe if you were still a police officer, maybe.”

“Aren’t you a stripper?”

Luther threw a surprised glance at Didi. She could tell he wanted to ask, but wouldn’t in front of Diego.

“Just doing my bit to make dear old Reggie proud.”

Diego moved further into the room, pausing to look at Luther’s frame.

“Oh, you got big, Luther. What’s the secret, huh? Protein shakes? Low carbs?”

“What do you want?”

Diego smirked to himself and pulled out a crumpled-up piece of paper and offered it to the two of them. Didi snatched it quickly and opened it for Luther to see.

“The autopsy report.” She said. “Why do you have this?” She held the photos of Reginald’s corpse and gave the report to Luther. He looked so human.

“Because I… broke into the coroner’s office.” Diego did a little bow. “And, surprise, surprise, Dad’s death was… normal.”

“Nothing about him ever was.”

“Is that why you two are in here, rifling through all his stuff?”

“It’s not a crime – you’re the one who committed trespassing.”

Diego was about to bite back before Luther started questioning.

“Were you the first one on the scene?”

“Pogo found him.”

“Yeah, I talked to Pogo. He said he couldn’t find Dad’s monocle.”

“Maybe he choked on it.” Didi joked. Diego raised a hand to high-five whilst Luther frowned at them.

“Can either of you think of a single time you saw Dad and he wasn’t wearing a monocle?”

Didi thought to when she pulled his skin off. He wasn’t wearing a monocle then. Wasn’t even human then. Luther took their silence for agreement.

“No,” He continued. “Which means someone took it. He wasn’t alone when he died.”

“God, I hope he was.” Didi exited the room. “Have fun, detectives. Let me know if anything fruitful comes out of this.”

Didi sat surrounded by her family, her knees close to her chest as she leaned against the couch Luther was sitting on. Her eyes were trained firmly on Five’s painting, her neck bent back to look at it. The need to see him again was consuming her entirely. Luther coughed awkwardly and rose to address everyone, snapping Didi back into the present. She mistakenly made eye contact with Viktor – his expression one of sharp pity mixed with uncertainty.

They all looked older. No one was sad, not about Reginald, but contemplative. Viktor’s face was marred with worry lines, Diego’s brows were knitted tightly together in thought. Allison was mildly day drinking, something she never would normally do, but Klaus was already tipsy, something he’d always done.

“I figured we could have some sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown.” He stood tall, towering over Didi’s hunched figure. “Say a few words, just at Dad’s favourite spot.”

Klaus loudly poured his drink, clinking the bottle against the bar as often as he could to interrupt Luther. He raised the glass in a ‘cheers’ at the attention, and downed it like a shot of lemonade. Didi lazily held up a finger, indicating she wanted one. Allison shot her a look from across the lounge, but Didi just shrugged.

“Dad had a favourite spot?” Allison asked tenderly.

“Yeah, you know, under the oak tree.”

“Reginald enjoyed things?” Didi quipped.

“Didi.” Luther warned curtly.

“Will there be refreshments?” Klaus asked, returning with his hands full of bottles of liquor, handing one to Didi and sitting next to Viktor. “Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.”

“Shove the cucumber up your ass, Klaus.” Diego smirked.

“Will you do the honors, oh brother dear?”

“Only if you beg.”

“No, put that out.” Luther cut in, gesturing to the lit cigarette in Klaus’s hand. “Dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

“Is that my skirt, Klaus?” Allison pointed a finger at Klaus accusingly.

“What? Oh yeah, this! I found it in your room. Dated, but, you know, breathy on the bits.” Klaus paraded around the lounge, taking turns puffing the cigarette and swigging his drink.

“Listen up. Still some important things that we need to discuss, alright?” Luther interrupted. His stern voice was directed at all of them, but he looked at Didi pointedly. Did he know? There’s no way he knew.

“Like what?” Didi asked.

“Like the way he died.”

“Here we go.” Diego muttered.

Didi took a sip of the Midori Klaus had handed her, pulling a face as it burned her throat. Drink more liquor, never been sicker. The rest of the academy argued about their father’s death.

“He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust.”

“Shouldn’t have trusted him, Luther.”

“Why, Didi?”

“He...” But she couldn’t say.

Luther reached down and pulled the drink out of Didi’s pry with ease. Damn super strength.

“Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.” Diego got out of his seat, stretching out his limber body. More of that fucking leather.

“No. He must have known something was going to happen.”

“And dying was his solution?” Didi reached for the glass again. Diego shook his head in agreement. Luther ignored the two of them and turned to Klaus.

“I know you don’t like to do it-”

“Then please, don’t ask me-”

“But can you summon Dad?”

“Ugh!” Klaus rolled his head back. “I can’t just call Dad and ask him to stop playing Wii Bowling with fucking Hitler for a moment and take a quick call.”

“Since when? That’s your thing.”

“I’m not in the… right… frame of mind?”

“You’re high?” Allison questioned.

“That MUST be it, yeah! I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense? Dad died for a reason? Come on!”

Reginald died for a reason? Didi knew she was the one who said it, but hearing it out loud… She shifted the alcohol induced buzz away, wanting to think with a clear mind.

“Well, sober up, this is important.”

“Yessire!” Klaus mocked.

“There’s the issue of the missing monocle.”

“Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?” Diego stood tall next to Luther.

“Exactly? It’s worthless. So, whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.”

“Sounds like you’re describing us there, Luther.” Didi cautioned. Whatever Luther was getting at wasn’t going to be beneficial for anything. Didi didn’t feel like solving a murder mystery in her last week and a bit in human form.

“Huh? Us?” Klaus asked, his words slurring slightly.

“Isn’t it obvious? He thinks one of us killed Dad.” Diego was now squared up with Luther. The accusation hung in the air thickly, all of them processing it.

A reason for dying.

They hadn’t all been under the same roof since they were 17. They weren’t even all gathered at Allison’s wedding.

A reason for dying, to bring them all back together.

One of them didn’t kill Reginald.

He killed himself.

Didi shot up, not caring to hear the rest of the conversation. If Reginald killed himself, the selfish asshole, Pogo and Grace would have been in on it. Grace was as catatonic as a robot could be, but Didi was positive she could wrestle something out of Pogo.

Nothing.

He truly knew nothing.

She’d tried all her interrogation tactics save for straight torturing him.

Didi found herself in the training room, the one where Reginald would so lovingly make them all fight her to the death. Just her, because she couldn’t die.

She slipped out of her shoes, rolled her shoulders out and took a preparatory fighting stance. She hadn’t fought in so long, but it was something about this place. Not a need to fight out of anger, just the need to prove herself. Who was she meant to be proving herself to now? She could hear his stern voice reprimanding them even now.

Children, behave!

Wait, no. That is a female singing. It’s a song. Someone chucked on a Tiffany track, loud enough to be heard throughout the whole house. Didi dropped her fighting stance. She didn’t need to fight anymore. There were no more battles to be won.

I think we’re alone now.

She didn’t have to be. But she also hadn’t danced in so long. She let the muffled tune take her body, and she slid around the hard white tiles in her socks. She dragged a foot behind her as she spun on her heel, hands raised above her head in freedom. Her reflection looked happy. She felt it a little. She wanted to feel it a lot.

Running just as fast as we can!

She leapt around and around, never feeling out of breath. Her body stretched deliciously in ways it hadn’t for years, but muscle memory kept her going. Didi moved out the door, following the sound of music. She paused in the hallway, throwing herself against the wall and mouthing the words dramatically. She knocked a fighting poster off the wall – when in doubt, gouge!. She pulled it off the ground and ripped it up, twirling in the poster shreds falling around like snowflakes.

But the song was cut short. A crackle of energy caused the lights to flicker dangerously, thunder loud from the courtyard. A window cracked near Didi as she looked out to see what was going on. She took a step back in surprise. A pull was coming from her implanted chip, beckoning her outside to where the storm was. Her fists clenched in preparation as she bolted outside, her bare feet cold against the dirt.

Didi couldn’t even tell what she was looking at. A vivid blue… thing. Temporal anomaly. She knew that shade of blue. It fluttered around, a picture of some grassy area in it. She knew… that shade of blue. She’d seen it once before.

Luther and Diego argued about what it was. Klaus ran behind, shouting at them before throwing a fire extinguisher through the hole. Didi pulled him back, keeping him steady from his physical exertion.

“What the fuck is that going to do?” Allison cried.

“I don’t know! Do you have a better idea, Princess?” Klaus retorted.

An old man appeared in the anomaly, his features covered by the constant blinking of the thing.

“Woah! Everyone, get behind me.” Luther ordered.

“Yeah, get behind us!” Diego copied, shoving himself ever so slightly in front of Luther.

“I vote for running, c’mon!” Klaus dragged on Viktor and Didi’s hands, urging them to come back inside. Didi was firmly planted.

She knew that shade of blue.

The man pushed through as the leaves spun hectically around the thing, being sucked into its vortex. Maybe it was a black hole. Blue hole. She knew. She knew. She bounced on her toes, unable to believe it. She wanted to believe it so bad.

The man pushed further and further, until he fell out and the hole closed behind him. He landed with a rough “Oof!” on the floor. Didi went to push through the others to get to him, but Luther held her back. She pushed as hard as she could, but to Luther, it was nothing.

The thunder faded, the wind settled, and the clouds gave way to the sunny day it was before. Slowly, they all walked forward. Didi ducked under Luther’s heavy arm and ran to the man’s side. She heard someone cry her name out from behind her, but she didn’t care. She knew that shade of blue.

He looked at her, disoriented. She knew that half-healed gash on his cheek. She knew where it came from. She knew that haphazard haircut; she’d been there to see him cut it himself. She knew those multiple knicks on his hands and the skinny bones.

She knew him.

But the way they looked at her…

“Is it just me, or does anyone see… like, a 20-year-old Five?”

He didn’t know her.

He took a step away from her, eyeing her up and down. He looked at himself, and to the rest of the academy. 

“Shit.”

Five had no idea who Didi was.