chapter fourteen

For the students at North Dallas High School, there was no greater an enigma than the mysterious Blair Hargreeves. She had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and dominated the social chain within a week—the other students had quickly fallen prey to her charming attitude and comely appearance. There were people that loathed her, people who hated how she got the whole school to fall at her feet within a week of her arrival, but those people were far outnumbered by the adoring masses who sucked up to the silver-tongued brunette every chance they got.

The few that disliked her, however, could very easily point out all of her strange tendencies. For starters, there was her accent, an odd mixture of north eastern American and generic Russian. Occasionally she forgot to use the American accent she had been perfecting for a year and slipped back into the sharp and slurred Russian one that she had been speaking with for most of her life. Her slip ups were few and far between, but for the skeptics that heard her mess up, it was a big deal. After all, it's not like the US and Russia were on the best of terms.

Following her accent came her family and housing situation. No one had ever gone to her house before, and no one had ever heard her talk about anyone other than her brother. When asked about what career her father had, Blair would avoid the question with a laugh and a weak excuse. It seemed as though her older brother was all she had, but if that was true, what had happened to her parents and who was she living with?

There was no person these discrepancies bugged more than James Deleon, one of the few remaining people that didn't want to worship the ground Blair walked on. Every time Blair would pass him in the halls with her ridiculously short skirts and bright white cheer pom poms, he would scowl and roll his eyes. This did not go unnoticed by Blair, however. While those who weren't falling prey to her act believed they were simply intelligent enough to see through Blair, the reality was that Blair was still manipulating their minds. Purposeful accent slips, stuttering answers to easy questions about her family, and shady glares had all become part of her prank on the disbelieving Texas teenagers.

After all, she'd already graduated high school before. It wasn't like she was actually going to pay attention in classes anymore.

Every day at three in the afternoon, the North Dallas High School would signal the end of its school day with an obnoxious bell that echoed through the school hallways. Blair, who had been spacing out during most of her arithmetic class, perked up at the wretched ringing filling up her ears. While her classmates slowly gathered up their textbooks, Blair hastily picked up her stuff and briskly walked into the mostly empty hallways with a plan in mind.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and although that meant Blair was free from cheerleading practice for the day, that didn't mean her day was suddenly over. No, she was going to walk down to the Texas School Book Depository and request for a few textbooks, textbooks for her own personal gain. In the ten months Blair had been in Dallas, she had begun to discover more about her powers. She had theories, that was.

"Blair!" A girl exclaimed, hurrying to catch up with the brunette. "Hi! Where are you going?"

"Hm?" Blair hummed, turning her head to look at Marianne Westin as the ginger fell in step with her. The slightly shorter girl on Blair's left stared at her dumbfoundedly, her ponytail swinging back and forth with every step she took.

Marianne giggled, "all of us girls are going to that diner a few blocks over. The football guys are coming and I heard that Dally wants to ask you out."

"He already did," Blair replied, Marianne's eyes going wide. "I told him no."

"You told Dally no?" Marianne practically shrieked. "Blair, are you possessed?"

Blair smiled. "No, I'm not possessed. He's just not my type."

"Or...," Marianne paused, a mischievous grin crossing her perfectly glossed lips, "you already like someone else."

The brunette shifted the books in her arms and rolled her eyes. Blair was slowly getting over Connor; slowly getting over the man she'd likely never see again. It was probably for the best that she get over him, but it didn't mean that Blair liked it. It didn't help that every time she went home she saw Atticus' face and was reminded of all of the good times with Connor.

"Have fun at the diner," Blair smiled, changed the subject to avoid any unwanted questions.

Marianne shook her head, her energetic smile failing to fade away as she mock-threatened, "next time, Blair."

Marianne turned on her heel and walked back in the direction of the school, leaving Blair on her own for her walk. The walk to the Dallas School Book Depository was only about fifteen minutes—fifteen minutes that Blair had been looking forward to all day. Back home she would have to deal with Atticus, and at school she would have to deal with her classmates. Blair was constantly being conversed with and forced to socialize, and what she had once considered a never-ending supply of semi-decent social skills had suddenly turned into a six hour package of great social skills and then eighteen hours of misery.

"Who are you?" A voice demanded, startling Blair and dragging her out of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what?" Blair asked, looking to her right to see none other than James Deleon looking at her with a pissed expression.

"Who are you?" He repeated. With his short white gym shorts and his light blue polo, he looked like he could hardly hurt a fly, and his attempt at a menacing expression had miserably failed and only served to make him look somewhat scared. He was barely eleven and had buck teeth that could make a rabbit envious. Needless to say, he was also a bit crazy and dumb for his age.

Blair's face screwed up as she answered, "uh, Blair Hargreeves. I moved here in February."

"From where?"

"New York."

James let out a dry and humorless laugh. "Bullshit. You're a Russian, aren't you?"

"No," Blair smiled, playing dumb to the brunette's questions. "I'm from Brooklyn. Never even left the country!"

"And that tall black haired guy that picks you up from school isn't your 'brother', he's your partner," James explained, his voice awfully accusative each for someone so horribly wrong. "You're trying to infiltrate our military!"

Blair rolled her eyes. "Yep. You totally got me. The KGB made me, a fourteen year old girl with practically no muscles, a spy, and planted me in Dallas for ten months to go to school. You're a total genius."

"Really?"

"No, idiot. You're tripping if you think I could be a Russian spy."

Oh, the irony.

The boy to her left cocked his head in confusion. "I'm just walking. I haven't tripped once."

Blair waved it off, momentarily forgetting not to use modern slang in the past. "Look, I'm not a Russian spy. I promise you."

James held out his hand, looking at Blair expectantly. She raised her hand as well and locked pinkies with the boy, watching as he kissed his hand. Blair followed suit and kissed her hand before they both let go and dropped their hands.

"Where did you learn that?" Blair asked the younger boy.

"My father," he shrugged.

Blair bit back laughter. "Kinda weird, kid. How old are you?"

"Eleven," he replied, puffing up his chest as he spoke.

"Alright," Blair nodded. This kid is insane.

The two continued walking in a strange silence. Blair was trying her hardest not to laugh over the kid who just assumed she was a Russian spy, while James pondered over Blair's words, wondering how she had gotten so good at lying. He was entirely convinced she worked for the KGB, how could she not? They had obviously sent her and her no good 'brother' to kill the president when he visited Dallas, and James was taking that presidential threat very seriously.

He was walking with a criminal.

"Officer!"

Blair nearly fell flat on her face. The voice yelling out was just as she remembered; somewhat high pitched with a tone that always sounded like he knew how much better he was than anyone else. It was undoubtedly the voice of Five Hargreeves. As carefully as she could without alarming James, Blair scanned the street, her eyes staying on a black vintage car with the outlines of three people inside of it.

"James, what is that?" Blair asked, pointing her finger in the opposite direction of the car.

As soon as his eyes had her out of his line of sight, Blair blinked into the back of the car. She landed right next to Five, with one very freaked out woman and one pissed off Diego Hargreeves in the front seats both staring at her in wonder.

"Hello," Blair said quietly, suddenly going shy as she came face-to-face with two of her brothers.

You fucking wimp, she cursed herself. They're your brothers. They're some of the dumbest people on Earth. Come on.

"I-," the woman stuttered. She shook her head quickly, her short black hair fanning out as she did so and a look of disbelief coming back onto her face. "Who is she?"

"That's my sister Blair," Diego stated offhandedly.

The woman, although looking extremely confused about who Blair was and how she appeared out of thin air, stated, "he's bluffing."

"He's not," Diego replied, his eyes scanning over Five. "Fine. I'll go with you."

Blair cocked her head to the side. "What is happening?"

Diego's face lightened up as he turned to look at Blair. "That doesn't matter. How are you?"

"It does matter," Five scoffed. He turned to look at Blair and quickly explained, "it's nice to see you, but we have important business to do. Important business that shouldn't be discussed with the crazy lady listening in."

Blair nodded. She could catch up with Diego later. "Sounds good. I'll come do whatever it is y'all are doing."

"And what about me?" The lady in the driver's seat asked.

Diego looked over at her. "And I'm bringing the crazy lady."

Blair stifled a yawn as she entered the strange building Diego's lady friend drove them to. Her pleated school skirt swished around as she walked, her hair doing the same. It had grown out considerably in ten months, and had been given all sorts of strange blowouts while Blair was in Dallas. It was not the only part of Blair that had changed in ten months, but she found it the most confusing. She was still shocked at how long it grew and often found herself struggling with its length. Atticus was often a victim of her complaints, something that he didn't find amusing.

Diego was also sporting a new look, but unlike Blair, his look wasn't very put together. His hair had grown out just like his sister's, and it had gotten rather unruly. The goatee that was once just mere scraps of fuzz on his chin had grown in all scruffy and messy. Looking at him, Blair figured he couldn't have been in Dallas any longer than she was. His goatee would be longer, hair would be curlier, and the amount of anonymous murders in Dallas would've raised significantly. That would place him as arriving sometime in the last ten months, meaning that the Hargreeves can't all have dropped at the same time.

Five, however, looked exactly the same as the night in the concert hall. Everything about him looked the same: his hair, his bowling shoes, his smile, and even his Umbrella Academy uniform, something that always made Blair laugh. He had other clothing options to wear, and yet he still chose the uniform that antagonized their childhoods as his outfit of choice.

What a nerd.

The three siblings and random lady walked up the stairwell in the entrance hall of the building only to be greeted by a man with a gun. He looked like a cliché husband that one would see in commercials about the fifties, the type of husband that would have a football playing son, a knack for fixing cars, and an insane amount of disrespect for his wife. Paired with the gun, he was hardly intimidating. In fact, he looked uncomfortable holding the gun. His fingers kept rewrapping around the barrel as if finding the gun disgusting.

"Where did you get the film?" The man demanded, walking towards the group. "'The Frankel Footage'. The truth this time."

"You know this lunatic?" Diego asked.

Blair looked over to Five as he sighed and stated, "new acquaintance. He's harmless."

"Are you sure about that?" The woman (who Blair was just now realizing sported a lovely British accent) doubted, her eyes not even daring to stray from the man with the gun as she asked her question.

"Are you or are you not an enemy of the people?" The man yelled.

Blair softly giggled as she and her brothers all talked over one another:

"Usually yes, today no."

"Such an open ended question, yeah."

"Really depends on the people."

The man with the gun did not seem to find amusement in their answers. "You move one more muscle, I will blow your brains out."

"Who's taking this?" Blair asked, glancing down at her nails and chipping away at the black polish.

"I got him," Five replied, clenching his jaw up in preparation.

The next five seconds were a blur. Diego was the distraction, pulling the woman's (whose name was apparently Lila? At least, that's what Blair thought she heard) attention onto him so that Five could blink forward and grab the gun. The shot rang out and hit the ceiling while Blair took her chance to lunge forward and yank the gun out of the man's grasps.

Blair turned the gun over in her hands, inspecting the model curiously. Lila giggled softly, her hands still raised in the air from covering her ears. "What the hell just happened?"

episode one : right back where we started

episode two : the frankel footage

little important author's note!

okay, so i know i've been very absent for a while, and i'm so sorry. school starting up again and joining three separate companies was a lot, but i'm back to updating and being active again. i'm trying my best to get out lots of chapters in a short period of time to make up for leaving you all alone for two months, so feel free to pester me for updates as usually it does encourage me to work harder and faster. i love you all, welcome to part two!