CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
mea culpa

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NADINE VIDAL HAD always been a little strange. She let spiders crawl up her arms, got knee-deep into brawls at school, and sicced imaginary snakes on people to watch them writhe. Her perfect, doll-like image was marred with split knuckles and bloody lips, black eyes and wild grins. People fell in love with her in spite of these flaws, tried to ignore the manic in her eyes and the clench of her fists, but eventually, what marred Nadine caught up to them, and, one way or another, they would edge themselves out of her life. This was what happened to Nadine's first love, Colette Badeau, who'd always been too saccharine for her own good. She was sweet as a honeysuckle and shy as a doe, a girl whose cheeks you couldn't help but want to pinch. And Nadine—brazing, loud, slightly arrogant Nadine—coaxed her out of her shell, attempted to help her regain her confidence. For Colette, simply being around Nadine ushered out her courage; for Nadine, being near Colette toned her down a little. They were perfect for each other—as perfect as any two thirteen-year-olds just discovering their budding sexualities could be, anyway. But they were not soulmates. They were not meant to stay together.

The King Cobra had been the end of Nadine and Colette's relationship. Colette—gentle, demure Colette—had been there to bear witness to Nadine reigning terror on Luis Allemand, and although he wasn't exactly innocent, seeing that great serpent flicking its tongue so closely to the boy chilled her to the core. She couldn't figure out how Nadine had done it—she obviously hadn't been carrying that snake around—and eventually, after a sleepless night and a bone-deep terror, she concluded that Nadine was a witch. An enchantress, who had lured Colette to her lips and away from the path of God. She'd summoned the snake out of thin air for Luis—who knew what else she could do? And that was why Colette decided to leave.

For Nadine, thirteen years old and on top of the world, when she stared back at the empty wall that had previously held her girlfriend in front of it, Colette's departure from her relationship crumbled something inside of her. After years without her mother's love, she'd built up walls around her heart, but something about Colette had torn them back down again.

She hadn't given up, though, not then. Instead, she'd gone back home, attempted to call Colette, to explain that she'd done it for the good of their relationship. But Colette never answered. And in school, she'd walk the other way. When they passed in the streets, she'd keep her head down. It was like she was trying to rebrand her life; trying to forget that Nadine had ever existed. A year later, Colette had found herself a boyfriend, a white-bread teacher's pet who always kept his hair neatly combed. He couldn't have been more different from Nadine, and each time she witnessed the couple kiss (without tongue, of course), her eyes would burn with tears longing to be shed.

Colette was the first girlfriend to leave Nadine's life, but she wasn't the last. Age seventeen: Manon Basile, with her warm vanilla shampoo and her laugh like wind chimes. She fled once she caught Nadine break a boy's nose for calling her a slur. Age twenty-two: Mirabelle Cantillon, with her love of astrology and red wine. She split after Nadine's flashbacks had gotten too difficult to bear with. Age twenty-nine: Camille Lambert, with skin like the sun and a smile like gold. She claimed to have fallen out of love just as easily as she'd fallen in it.

So many people had left Nadine's life that she was used to it at this point. Unlike with Colette, the first cut into the ever-growing wound, once they were gone, she never bothered to call them back. She just watched their retreating form and felt her body shudder in heartbreak. She knew it was her fault—it was always her fault, because she was a fuck-up who could never do anything right—and knew that she deserved it. Deserved every ache, every tear burning in her eyelid. She hadn't been enough for Louise, or Colette, or Manon, or Mirabelle, or Camille, and she would never be enough for anyone. Not even Beau's kind words could cave their way to her numb heart. She was so used to pain, to cold, that there was no room for warmth.

Which was why it was so peculiar that Nadine was running after Vanya now. She knew it was a different situation—they were friends, nothing more, and they hadn't known each other for very long—but it was the same routine. Nadine's mistakes had yet again been the wedge that had driven them apart, and now, as usual, she would pay the price.

Except, this time, Nadine was determined not to let this petty argument be what kept her away from Vanya. In three days, they'd both be dead, their eyes glassy and unseeing. In three days, their argument wouldn't matter—nothing would. The thought still sent flutters of terror down into Nadine's stomach, but she didn't let that stop her as she burst into the hallway, finding Vanya hovering at the doors, sans Leonard. Thank God. Nadine really wasn't interested in making polite conversation with him.

"Vanya," she said breathlessly. The woman looked up, meeting Nadine's gaze, and Nadine caught gratitude in there. For what she'd said back in the living room. But then anger flickered back into them, and Nadine knew Vanya hadn't forgiven her for snooping on fucking Leonard.

"Vanya," she said again. "I'm so sorry. Luther told me you were busy. I wouldn't have gone to the meeting if I'd known he'd intentionally excluded you."

"Well, that's customary," snarked Vanya, sarcasm present in her tone. "I shouldn't have expected any different."

Nadine remembered that her apology wasn't over. "And that's not all," she continued, her accent creeping in (though she was basically fluent in English after five days surrounded by natives). "I know I already apologized for this, but I'm doing it again. I'm sorry for nosing around on your boyfriend. It was a violation, especially considering we haven't known each other that long." She took a deep breath. These next few words hurt, burned in her throat. But she said them, anyway, forcing them off her tongue. "I should've trusted that you knew what you were doing. And... I'm really happy for you."

Vanya's hardness cracked at that, and her lips twitched. There was a couple of seconds of silence before Vanya's smile—a genuine smile—finally formed. "Thanks, Nadine," she said softly. "I... I think I forgive you. You've taken accountability, and I just... I can't stay mad at you, anymore. Not when you've always been standing up for me. Ever since you've gotten here, you've been there for me when no one else was, and I really... I really appreciate it. I never... I never thought I was someone worth standing up for."

"You are," said Nadine firmly, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "But I can't always be there to fight your battles for you. You need to stand up for yourself, because you are worth it. You always have been. And... you can't just keep letting them walk all over you."

Vanya's smile grew wider at that, and Nadine's stomach broiled with the now-familiar sensation. She smiled back, cheeks aflame, and basked in the amiable silence. The silence of forgiveness. Of friendship.

For once, she hadn't been cast aside.

Of course, as soon as she'd thought that, as soon as she'd realized how happy she was, fucking Leonard interrupted, jogging back Vanya's way with his jacket tucked under his arm. Up close, he was even more pathetically basic. Up close, Nadine couldn't help but wonder what was so special about him.

"Hey," he said to Vanya, slightly breathless. "Ready to go?"

Vanya looked to Nadine, then nodded. "Yeah. Let's get out of here." Her eyes met Nadine's. "I'll talk to you later, alright? Feel free to text me."

Nadine swallowed, then nodded. "Okay. I'll talk to you later."

Hopefully before we all die.

Vanya smiled again, then exited, moving out the door. Leonard was quick to follow, but just before he left, he looked to Nadine. An unidentifiable emotion crossed his face, too quick for Nadine to understand. He cleared his throat.

"Thanks for looking out for her," he said.

Then he was gone.

Nadine swallowed again, took in a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She accepted my apology, she thought, still riding on the high. And then, impossibly, even with Leonard and the forthcoming apocalypse and her exhaustion putting a damper on her mood, she grinned.

NADINE STRETCHED HER hand out, tendrils of white wrapping around her finger but not quite touching her skin. She was sitting at the top of one of the Umbrella Academy's winding staircases, weaving together a new Sanctuary. It was a difficult process, piecing it together, bit by bit, and she had to drudge up images from the far corners of her mind to knit together a new, beautiful scene. But she knew that when she made it once, she could call it back from then on, because it was always easier forming an image of something she'd already seen. Of course, unless she was looking directly at an image, there were always still flaws, hardly noticeable mars that made the illusion seem not quite real, but she could always manage to ignore them, and nobody else ever noticed them.

Today, she was forming a cluster of mountains, building them up in front of her in greys and browns. Crystalline water, clear as glass, ran in the valley below it, and clumps of pine trees jutted up from the shore, sharp edges slicing into the air. Thick clouds bunched up behind the landscape, so dense it seemed like you could walk on them, and the sky was a pure, lapis blue. From Nadine's viewpoint, she was perched on a cliff, looking down at the snowcapped mountains, in a world without war, without pain, without anguish. Without an apocalypse on the horizon, dooming them all. When she inhaled, she could almost taste the lightness on the air, but, of course, her illusions never extended to the other senses, focusing solely on sight. It was like a reminder that they weren't real.

She was just polishing up the image, taking inspiration from a vacation she'd once went on with her family to seal in the not-quite-perfect cracks, when a voice suddenly cut through the tranquil stillness. Nadine's heart jolted, and then, blindly, still half in the mountain scenery (instead of confining it to just one area, as she often did, she'd cloaked it around her, letting the real world dissolve away for a few minutes) she leaped to her feet, preparing to fight just as the mountain range evanesced into nothingness. But when she saw that the intruder was Allison Hargreeves instead of an attacker, she halted.

Allison blinked. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Nadine shook her head, her breathing still, embarrassingly, uneven. "No, no, it's my fault. Sorry. I was just... I was trying out another illusion. On myself."

"Oh." Allison blinked again. "Cool."

"What do you want?" Nadine asked wearingly, rubbing out the aches in her legs. She hadn't forgotten about the whole conflict with Vanya yesterday, nor the fact that Allison had been one of the ones to exclude her sister from the meeting, and thus was not very open to polite conversation with the woman.

Allison swallowed. "Well, I'm leaving tonight."

Nadine looked up. "What?"

"I'm flying back to LA," she elaborated. "If the world's gonna end in three days..." her voice trailed off, and there was clear pain evident behind her eyes as she screwed up her face. She moved forward, taking a seat beside Nadine on the top of the stairs. "I have to see my daughter."

"Claire, right?" Nadine asked, remembering the many magazines she'd poured through about the actress. It was funny, recalling those days, when Allison was nothing more than a celebrity crush to her, instead of whatever she'd become now. She knew enough to know that Patrick had taken his daughter in the divorce.

Allison nodded. "Yeah. Listen, Nadine... I really don't want to fight with you. I mean, we don't know each other too well, but..." she shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's nice having a friend. You know, despite being world-famous, I never had many people like that. Who weren't afraid to call me out on my bullshit, like you do. I think that's what I like about you."

"That's a first," Nadine remarked. "Usually people run the other way when they see who I am."

Allison let out a chuckle, shaking her head, but after a moment, she sobered. "What I'm trying to say is that I shouldn't have dragged you into everything with Leonard. I'm sorry. I want to make it up with Vanya, but I also want to make it up with you. And if I don't see Vanya again... well, I know you will. You're the type of friend she's always needed."

The corners of Nadine's lips turned up. "Thank you, Allison." She stretched out so that she was laying on the floor, allowing herself to stare up at the ceiling. "I can't believe it's all going to be over in three days."

"I know. It's still hard to believe."

"So you're going back to Claire?"

"I have to." Allison's voice was quiet, troubled. "When..." her voice trembled, "when it happens, I have to be there for her. I can't let her go through this alone."

Nadine squeezed her eyes shut. "I wish I could go back. To France, I mean. Talk to my dad..." she shook her head. "He was the best. No matter the shit I pulled, he always loved me, you know? Tended my wounds, stood up for me. And... and even though he did everything for me, I never..." shame coloured her cheeks. "I never thanked him for it. I barely even told him that I loved him."

"Why don't you?" Allison suggested. At Nadine's inquisitive look, she elaborated. "Why don't you just go back to France? I mean, I know what Five believes, about you saving the world and all, but you said it yourself, you don't think he's right about it. If the world is really gonna end, then there's nothing keeping you here."

Nadine sucked in a breath, pondering this. What was the advantage of dying here, in America, a foreign continent beside people she'd only known for a week, instead of dying at home, with everyone she'd grown up with, and grown to love? There was none. Either way, in three days, she'd be dead.

She let out an exhale. Allison was right. She'd been intruding on the Hargreeves for so long. It was about time she headed home.

She said this. "You're right, Allison." Her voice was even. "I'm going home."

She got to her feet. "There's just someone I have to say goodbye to, first."

Allison watched her, sorrow evident on her face. "Me, too. I couldn't book a flight until tonight, but I'm going crazy just sitting here. I was going to go to the airport right now, but... I didn't want to end our relationship on a sour note." She extended a hand. "Friends?"

Nadine took it. "Friends." Her smile was sad. "Goodbye, Allison."

"Bye, Nadine. It was really nice to meet you." Both of their tones conveyed that they'd never see each other again. That this was it. It was so heartbreaking that Nadine almost considered just running to the airport now, leaving her goodbyes unsaid on her lips. But she couldn't let herself do that. She wanted to see Vanya Hargreeves one last time, even if it was to say goodbye.

"I better go pack." Nadine's voice was unusually quiet as she moved to head off to her bedroom. Allison nodded, twisting a golden necklace between her fingers. Then she was heading downstairs, and Nadine down the hallway, both of their hearts heavy.

Nadine packed up her meagre belongings, piling them into her suitcase, and began to walk out the door of the guest bedroom she'd been staying at. At the doorway, however, she halted, staring back into the bland room, barren of anything that could be considered "fun" or "colourful". That had been Reginald; strictly order. But for some reason, Nadine said goodbye to the room anyway.

Or maybe it wasn't just the room she was giving her farewell to. Maybe it was the Umbrella Academy in its whole; a place that, despite everything, had become a second home to her. It may have been too big, too dull, too expensive, but the people in it were what Nadine had found herself so attached to. The Hargreeves siblings, while they were arrogant, obnoxious, high, or bitter, had brought colour into Nadine's life, and she was thankful for them all.

As she finally crossed the threshold and exited the mansion, she found herself looking back one more time, at the ornate doors, the umbrella insignia, predictably, etched into it. And then she was off, rolling her suitcase behind her to make her way towards Vanya Hargreeves, for one final bid adieu.

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HAVEN: not much happened in this chapter but!! so much!! is going to happen in the next chapter!!! and basically all of the chapters leading up to the end!! i'm so excited... we're really about to get into the good stuff :)

anyway, in other news, i finally made one of those season one posters for nadine!! i was procrastinating doing homework and i ended up spending like an hour on it. i actually think it came out pretty good, so i hope you like it!!

(i also made one for season two, but you'll see that in the next book!!)

if you're wondering, the butterflies are supposed to be a part of her illusions. i thought that, since everyone else on the posters was doing something, i didn't just want her to stand there, lol. this was surprisingly easy to make, so if anybody wants to know how i did it, just lmk!!

i hope you enjoyed!! and i hope you're stoked for what's coming next, because it's... a whole lot. i'm finally getting back in the groove with this series, and i really hope it'll stay that way!!

thanks for reading <333