a.n: for clarification, please check the updated note at the bottom of the cast chapter regarding viktor!

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

❛❛𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐙𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃, 'Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the Superhuman--'"

— 𝟏𝟕 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐎 —

The seven children stand packed in at the bottom of a winding stairwell in matching tracksuits as they wait for their cue. Perched at the top, nose buried in his scarlet leather-bound journal scribbling the last of his thoughts was their father. (And for one, their temporary guardian). His monocle tucked into his left eye as it always was, only enunciating the scornful glare landing on the academy. At his side—as he always was—Viktor, whistle ready in hand.

"'a rope over an abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling, and halting.'"

They all watch in anticipation as his pencil suddenly halts, his eyes darting to them precisely once before the book snaps shut and gives a curt nod. The whistle is brought up to Viktor's lips and a shrill ring floods the stairwell and so too do the mass of children that suddenly crumble apart.

"As much as you much strive for individual greatness—and strive you must—it won't come to you of its own accord..."

They had passed yet another round of posters when Diego finally stole Luther's lead. A triumphant smile began to bloom on his face when a muted whoosh filled his ears, knocking it right off. An indent in space-time itself spit out the form of his brother just steps ahead of him and a growl grew in his throat.

"you must also remember that there is no individual stronger than the collective."

It was quickly swallowed by the sound of sludging mud and the crunching of bones before his eyes found the source of the not-so-mysterious sound. A young and spirited Y/n had launched herself off the balcony and now sailed (somewhat clumsily) far above their heads and straight to the top with the assistance of her freshly sprouted sparrow wings. A rather untrustworthy giggle left her throat at her friend's angered words and the whistle blew, signaling her victory. Y/n had won and Five had blinked to the top.

"That's not fair!" He cried up the stairwell, stopping to swallow several heavy breaths. "They cheated!"

"They adapted." Corrects his father.

"The ties that bind you together make you stronger than you are alone."

Allison's quiet sobs nearly match the hum of the needle drilling into Diego's skin where the ink finds its new home. She clutches her left wrist tight to her person without touching the tattoo already pierced into her skin. The umbrella freshly etched into her wrist matched that of her brother Klaus who now holds her close in a hug. Tears slip from his eyes and he desperately wipes them away as his sister buries her sobs into his shoulder.

Grace senses the turmoil and searing pain in her son Diego as he grits his teeth and holds back the tears, accepting the cruel sting piercing his skin again and again. A frown falls across her face and she steps forward, reaching for his free hand as he grips the armrest in silent agony. But he does something unexpected, and rips his hand away from her affection and carefully hid his tearful expression from his mother. Grace knew a great deal as she was programmed to, but she had yet to find out what had evolved within her to make her feel hurt, and such immense guilt as she did now when she saw her children in such pain. And yet there was nothing she could do.

Reginald was still watching. He was always watching, as he always would be.

"They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you."

Grace steps back to her post beside Reginald, and she sends him an involuntary smile she hopes will appease him. Perhaps, she thought, if she behaved he would be in a better mood for the children. Her gleaming blue eyes fall past his shoulder to see Luther clutching his stomach with a grimace screwed tight on his face and her smile fell again. No doubt the poor boy's anxiety was worse than ever—his anxiety levels were close to Diego's usually with the expectations thrust upon him. And the others were fairing no better.

"And believe me when I tell you,"

Her poor babies. She could sense Ben holding back tears and her sensors picked up on a great deal of activity in his amygdala; more than usual. And her sweet Five... He would never admit it, but he'd go to the ends of the earth to protect Ben just as much as he would any of the others. But he was fairing no better.

"life will be hard."

Much like Diego, they were trying to be strong. But they couldn't hide their despair from Grace. Not truly. Five, who usually held such skill in keeping a brave face, was now in shambles where he sat beside Ben and Luther; next in line.

"It will be painful."

Discarded on the stairwell, neither of them truly welcome, Viktor and Y/n's frowning eyes drill into the sight of the needle painting Diego's skin. Y/n folds herself into her usual black hoodie, brooding silently from where she sits on the top step. Viktor stands on the landing behind her, unable to stop himself from peering over the banister nor shed the longing from his eyes.

Both of them wonder to themselves in that moment, not considering the pain each child is enduring, just what was wrong with them. Why weren't they special enough? Why Viktor, a Hargreeves in every sense of the word, but forbidden from the fame and social royalty that came with being in the academy?

And Y/n. An honorary member of the Umbrella Academy, waiting on her ticket in. She was beginning to think that ticket never existed. That Sir Hargreeves was just stringing her along and taking advantage of her powers. Would she never be an official part of the academy? Would she ever be a Hargreeves?

Her questions weren't answered directly, nor would they be answered any time soon. But the sudden popping of plastic brought her attention upwards to the reluctant friend she had made on the sidelines. Viktor had uncapped a black marker that he now brought to the skin of his inner left wrist. Y/n realized very quickly he had drawn an umbrella, encased in a single circle. A 'tattoo' to match his siblings. Sensing her prying eyes, Viktor looked down at the girl at his feet with an unreadable expression.

Y/n flashed him an understanding smile, gaze falling and her eyes shining with thought. And in the next moment, she looked down at her left wrist as she pulled back her sleeve. It was too subtle for it to make any noise, but Viktor still saw the small black umbrella paint itself into her skin before slowly encircling itself with a thin black line. It wasn't perfect, not if you looked too close—it was the mark of someone on the sidelines. But she kinda liked it like that—it made her feel closer to Viktor who she now shared this moment. It was a certain bond nobody in the academy would understand.

And judging by the creeping smile on Viktor's face as Y/n looked hopefully up at him, he liked it too. Maybe they weren't truly alone.

"We can accomplish anything,"

Night had fallen and the moon hung bright in the sky, its soft rays spilling in through the window curtains of the west side of the mansion. Number One was tucked deep into his blankets, his mind worlds away in the land of sleep, completely unaware of his father sitting at his bedside. He observes the rise and fall of his son's breathing and for a single, fleeting moment, one who didn't know the man well enough might mistake his studious stare for something out of fondness. But no.

"when we accept responsibility together."

His hard stare had only lingered long enough for him to silently debate with himself if the boy was far enough into sleep to notice the wires he now placed on his temple. As Reginald predicted, the boy was none the wiser. He rolled over in bed and onto his side where he hugged his pillow tight to his tiny body and was lulled deeper into sleep. Reginald took that as his cue and rose from his seat on the edge of the bed and disappears into the hallway of wire trails.

"This is what creates trust."

The house is quiet and eerily still. Exactly eight wires—near identical to that of the one on Luther's head—pool out from each bedroom where they collide into a tangled braid outside in the hallway. The braid of wires stretches on and on, and on some more where they wind all the way to Reginald's desk in his forbidden study. He sits at attention, not without a haunted look suppressed deep in his hollow eyes.

He scribbled furiously into his journal, now more than ever. The readings were coming in and he only had now. He had to work quickly. No time to dawdle.

Number One was sleeping soundly. His vitals were steady and boring. Which was ideal; no stressors, no disappointments. He was perfectly mundane and predictable, just as Reginald liked it.

He saw a noticeable spike in Number Three's brain activity —a worthy mention and something worth keeping an eye on. But then again, Reginald thought, she always had shown promise with little to no follow-through. Like most of her brothers.

Such as Number Five. Number Five held such potential... And yet, somehow, he always managed to overestimate his abilities in a pitiful attempt to prove himself. Reginald could only hope the boy would not let his gifts go to waste.

Number Seven—wire glowing brighter than any—was simply unaware; in every meaning of the word. Best he be kept this way.

"Together you will stand against the reign of evil."

Number Eight. Messy. Unpredictable. Wildly stubborn. A thorn in his side. A thorn Reginald couldn't quite dig out. She came to him, of her own blindingly arrogant volition, in his hour of need. And she let him down at every opportunity; it was, to her credit, the most consistent thing about her. It was pure intrigue she had to thank for her still being here; every test and trial brought forth two answers and five more questions.

Well, that and the steady hum of the wire placed over her temple, fluttering with activity.

●••••••••••••••••••••••••●

"All I'm saying is, how cool would it be?"

Ben scoffed from his seat on the black couch, shaking his head as if it would rid the amused smile on his face from his girlfriend's antics. Night had fallen over the residence, and the two of them were currently piled together on the furthermost couch in the basement kitchen. Ben is in the center cushion, with Y/n lying propped against the right arm closest to the wall. Her legs draped over Ben's lap as they lounged across the room from Klaus and Five.

"Okay, but what could you possibly need them for?" Ben countered.

Y/n scoffed this time—the sound coming out as more of a dry laugh. She wasn't so much amused as she was determined to win this argument. "Uhh, because it'd be awesome?!"

"...My question still stands," Ben deadpanned.

Lounging at the head of the kitchen table across the room, Klaus' eyes flickered up from the bass guitar he was currently plucking at the sound of the couples' escalating debate.

"what could you possibly need them for?! They're chainsaw. arms. Sure they'd cut stuff up but how would you even move them?"

Y/n rolled her eyes so hard she felt they just might pop out of her head.

"They wouldn't be my whole arms, doofus!" Her hardened demeanor immediately fell away into excitement as she drew invisible lines from the crook of her elbow up to her inner arm, her finger gliding over the still very much intact umbrella tattoo she had given herself so many years ago. "Just my forearms. Then I can really do some damage," she said with a mischievous grin, cutting expressively through the air.

Ben didn't have anything to say to that. Just a deflated smile and another shake of his head as he fiddled with his girlfriend's non-chainsaw hand. There was no doubt in Y/n's mind that he was judging her. And he was—they were judging each other. As they did often. And as often as it happened, it was never about the stuff that mattered.

"Can't say I disagree, champ," Klaus piped up, his eyes and hand back on the bass guitar as he fiddled with it. "I mean, after all, who's gonna win in a fistfight? Some puny digits or two roaring chainsaws?"

What the fuck was Five looking for again? He certainly didn't know; he had just abandoned everything mid-task the moment Klaus broke the quiet, just to gawk over his shoulder at the man and whatever the fuck he had just said. Just what kind of shit was Klaus putting in his body these days? He thought to himself, ignorantly, before going back to his search for coffee.

Y/n, however, wasted no time accepting the win and happily leaned back into the armrest with a smirk painted on her lips. "I rest my case,"

Several steady clicks growing louder and closer grabbed Y/n's attention first. To her delight, striding gracefully around the corner in a pair of her best black heels and shedding her peacoat on the lounge chair across the room was Allison.

"Hey, Al," Y/n said somewhat to herself. She knew her friend couldn't hear her, no more than Five had heard her greet him after the funeral. But she did it anyway. Ben definitely understood this sentiment but said nothing.

"Where's Vanya?" Allison asked, none the wiser to Klaus' involuntary and nearly invisible sympathetic frown flashing over his face.

"Oh," answered Klaus, as she came to stand at the table. "She's gone."

Five's jaw set in discontent as he turned and huffed. "Well that's unfortunate," both Klaus and Allison have half a mind to agree before they both realize their brother more than likely isn't finished. Sure enough, he joins the table in a huff and a very strained smile. "An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, and not a single," CLANK, he slams the empty coffee maker on the wooden surface. "drop of coffee."

"Dad hated caffeine," Allison reasoned.

"Yeah, why did he have a coffee maker anyway," Y/n had thought to herself as she played with the chords on Ben's hoodie.

Klaus answered with a rather punctual laugh. "Well, he hated children too and he had plenty of us,"

Allison exchanged a look of mutual silence with her long-lost brother before he shrugged off Klaus' comment for the both of them. "I'm taking the car," he said.

Klaus unfolded himself from his chair at Five's proclamation—the first of everyone present to express their shock.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a decent cup of coffee,"

"Do you even know how to drive?" Asked Allison.

"I know how to do everything," he seethes. A final huff rolls off his shoulders before his signature blue light swallows him whole.

Klaus rises from his seat at the table, looking over his shoulder at the alleyway where his brother had likely blinked off to.

"I feel like we should try and stop him,"

Klaus's head spins to face the couch occupied by his friend and brother at the sound of a bitter scoff. He doesn't immediately realize it, but Y/n is biting back a self-pitying "cause that worked so well last time," as she lounges, twiddling now with the tassels on her hoodie. She may not have been a Hargreeves, but Y/n had taken Five's disappearance as hard as any of them.

Klaus cleared his throat, knowing better than to linger on the subject with her. Let alone with others in the room who wouldn't take him seriously unless they could see the undead couple.

"but then again, I also just kinda want to see what happens," he half-joked. Well, it was true! Klaus could see it now; the look on the poor sucker's face when he pulls over the thirteen-year-old with a blinking problem.

The engine turning over confirmed the car had started and shortly after, the squeal of the wheels followed. Five had taken off. Yet again.

"All right, I guess I'll see you guys in, what, ten years," All eyes were drawn yet again to the entrance where a fully uniformed Diego came sauntering into the kitchen. "when Pogo dies?" He rounded Allison and grazed the spread left over on the table as Allison quipped back.

"Not if you die first,"

"Yeah, love you too, sis," he pops a grape in his mouth. "Hey, good luck on your next movie. Hope it turns out better than your marriage,"

Without taking her eyes off of her childhood best friend now skulking off to grab the keys, Y/n grinned curiously at Ben.

"Remind me, was Diego always this constipated?" Y/n swings her legs off of Ben's lap and they casually pull her up off the couch and across the room to Diego.

Ben considered this.

"No, I'm leaving," Diego answered to an eager Klaus who had given himself an invite to come along. "me, by myself,"

Klaus made a show of gratitude to rub in his brother's face. There was an extra bounce in his step and a clap of the hands that urged Ben and Y/n to follow. "Oh, fabulous! I'll get my things."

Diego was out in the alleyway and getting in his car just a bit quicker than normal. He should have known that wouldn't be enough to stop his brother.

"Hey! Diego," Klaus came skidding into view, kicking up gravel as he went. Diego's head dropped in a sigh as the car shook around him with the scramble of his brother clambering into the backseat. His breathless voice told of a grin on his lips as he popped his head into the front seat and pat at Diego's shoulders. "You know," he said matter-of-factly, "every time I close my eyes, I see a diarrhetic hippo about to shit on my face,"

The sight of Diego suppressing his amused, uncomfortable smile brought a sense of victory to Klaus, and he insisted. "It's terrifying!"

"Terrific," the man grumbled, starting the car.

"No," Klaus countered, under his breath. "No,"

"Lean back," Diego warned, shifting the car into gear with a roar of the engine rumbling under all four inside.

Klaus did as instructed, flopping back into the leather seats beside his brother as Y/n folded her legs beneath her from where she sat in the passenger's seat. Her gaze was that of curious fascination, locked on the man beside her as she reached out to him.

"Y/n, what you doing?" Ben asked, sounding tired.

Never taking her eyes off the side of Diego's face, she answered in a dazed tone. "It's just so weird, I can't ever get over how fascinating it all is," her palm passed through his face, then again from the back of his head. "Sometimes they notice, sometimes they don't,"

With the same hand, she sticks her pinky into her mouth despite the probable lack of saliva before poking it into Diego's ear. Not a moment later, the man's right shoulder jerks up to squish his ear around—unable to properly scratch at the sudden itch without taking his hands off the wheel.

"Ha, see!" She laughed victoriously. "He totally felt that." she trailed off once more, in a thoughtful daze. No doubt she was already brainstorming more ways to annoy from the great beyond. "That's awesome,"

Still laughing, her childish grin brought forth by childish antics, she turns to gauge the reactions of those in the backseat. Klaus gave an earnest chuckle, but all she got from Ben was a solid stare as he pulled his hoodie up almost over his eyes and dropped his head on the seat. If he was amused, he didn't want to show it.

This didn't shake the amusement off of Y/n so easily, though: the man did attend his father's funeral today. On top of that, his whole family was fully reunited for the first time since Five's disappearance. If anything could tire a ghost out, it was all seven Hargreeves siblings back under one roof again.

Having caught Klaus's little chuckle, Diego gave a single glance through the rearview. "What? What's so funny back there?"

"Oh, nothing. Just feeling a touch nostalgic," Klaus sighed, wistful sounding. The car, having been stuck in the ally, finally gets its opening, getting lost in the sea of cars in the heart of the city. "Remember when you told Y/n about wet willies?"

Another glance. "Of course I do..." he shakes his head before adding with a very tiny, very wistful grin, "'s worst damn mistake of my life,"

Klaus giggled knowingly. "Classic,"

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

Jewish Voice for Peace:

"Our own commitment to fighting all forms of oppression grounds our organizing for justice for all people."

[link in comments]

Post-Kanye West, Black and Jewish solidarity is even more crucial by Megan Black:

"Black and Jewish Americans have the power together to halt the rising tide of white supremacy"

[link in comments]

The Trevor Project:

"The Trevor Project provides 24/7 crisis support services to LGBTQ young people. Text, chat, or call anytime to reach a trained counselor"

[link in comments]