"Goodnight, Mom." I whispered, kissing the cheek of the woman who raised me.

She sighed contently, "Goodnight, dear Isabelle. Your Father is in his study, you should wish him goodnight," Her blue eyes flickered with a darkness as she said this, something was wrong. I squeezed her hand.

"If he is still awake, I will." I gave her one last smile and turned on my heel and marched up the stairs to Dad's study.

And there he was, as always. Sitting at his desk, writing notes from Luther's latest findings or targeting a group of miscreants. Maybe doing the occasional crossword.

"Dad?" I asked, nudging the door to his study open. I didn't dare step inside, we had never been allowed. He didn't look up from his work.

"I was just coming to wish you goodnight. I'll be going now, make sure to take your medication." I cleared my throat and hastily spun around to go up to my room.

"Number Eight, would you come back here?" His gruff voice came down the hall.

"Of course," I walked back into the doorway of the study, "Yes?"

"Number Eight, come inside."

My eyes widened, it was astonishing really. We were never, ever allowed in Dad's study. But nonetheless, I walked in.

"Number Eight, I," He looked me in the eye,
"Well, I would like to thank you, for staying with me all these years. It is nice to talk to someone younger." He looked to his work again. I took that as my queue to leave.

~•~
The old wood creaked as I stepped into the room that I grew up in.

My room was part of the attic. An extra room that had previously been there for extra storage purposes, mostly to keep fragile objects at a constant temperature. I had a double bed with white and gray sheets and a peach colored duvet cover. In the furthermost corner, there was a window, with my old, sturdy dresser. I used to love to sit on top of it and just stare out that window. Then I had a desk with a mirror hanging off to the side. I used to write my songs there, I stopped doing that after Diego said I sounded like a dying cat when I sang.

And my favorite part of my room, the Umbrella Academy "shrine". It was a collection of the cheap knockoff posters people made. Featuring, Strongman (Luther), Liar Lady (Allison), Everywhere Boy (Five), Captain Ouija (Klaus), Ms. Rubberband (Me), Tentacle Monster (Ben), and my personal favorite, The Knifer, who is Diego, obviously.

Man, when I got a hold of this, Diego lost his shit. He almost cut off my ponytail with one for his knives.

I sighed and plopped down in bed. It was a beautiful night, the moon shone brightly, and the stars where all perfectly beautiful. Running a hand through my hair, I thought about Dad finally showing some form of affection towards me. Smiling, I closed my eyes and fell into maybe the deepest sleep I've had since Five left.

~•~
17 Years Ago
"Number Eight! Widen your stance, brace yourself for impact. Number One, attack again."

"Dad, she needs a break."

"No, she most certainly does not. Again!"

"But-,"

"Do it now!"

~•~

In the morning, I left the house before sunrise. The memory I dreamt of last night really messed me up. The training practices we went through as children were brutal, just dreaming of it made me leave before I was able to see my father.

I made my way down to the local coffee shop where I worked. The door chimed as I walked in. A few people were already there, at 6am. Damn they were committed.

My buddy Steven greeted me from behind the counter where he was refilling the coffee grinders, "Hey, Izzy! How's it hanging?"

"Not too bad, Stevy. You?" I replied, coming behind the counter and putting my stuff away.

"Actually, I feel very good today. It's like a ray of sunshine is just following me." He mused, going back to his work.

I glanced outside to the dreary sky. Steven was the only person I knew who could talk about rays of sunshine in this bleak weather.

The door chimed with our first customer of the day. An old man who ordered a black coffee. No sugar, no cream, no nothing. I smiled while writing down his order. That's what Five would've had.

Still lost in my thoughts, I heard my name.

"Isabelle! It's your mom." My manager called from the break room, holding the phone.

"Thanks, Katherine," I replied, walking over and taking the phone from her, "Hey, Mom."

"Isabelle, you must come home immediately." She sounded completely normal.

"What, why? Mom, is something wrong?"

"Yes, your Father is dead."

~•~
I drove faster than I've ever driven in my life to get home. I burst through the door, only to find Pogo waiting for me on the stairs in the entrance.

"Where's Dad? What did Mom mean? He's dead?!" I asked, panicking and losing my breath.

"Miss Isabelle, breathe. Yes, I'm sorry to say, but your father is dead." Pogo replied, coming forward to take my hand.

I was shaking, I hadn't realized until Pogo's hand grasped mine and the shaking stopped.

"C-can," I cleared my throat, "Can I see him?"

"Yes, though I must tell you that the coroner is up there now, in your Father's room."

"You mean, there's a chance someone killed him?"

Pogo nodded solemnly and turned to go into the library. I took a deep breath and steadied my shaking hands. Silently, I trekked up the stairs.

Thoughts were flying through my head in rapid succession. My Father, the one thing that I knew would never change in my life, he was dead. Though this thinking was off, I always knew that my Father would be there to scowl at me or criticize something I did. And now he just... wasn't.

Then I was at his door. I opened it and peeked inside. A man in a white lab coat stood over the corpse of my Father. My Father. He lay on his bed, peaceful. I felt my heart drop.

"And who are you?" The man spoke.

"I'm Isabelle, his daughter." I told him, stepping into the room.

"Ah, I'm so sorry for your loss. But it doesn't seem like anything strange happened. No sign of struggle, no bruising. The windows are all locked. Did you hear anything last night?"

I shook my head no.

"It seems your Father suffered a heart failure. I must inform the news about this. Do I have your consent to do that? I must have the living family's consent." The man continued, gathering his things.

"You do. That's probably the only way all of my siblings will get the message." I sighed, I felt a tear slip down my cheek.

The coroner patted me on the shoulder as he walked out, giving me his condolences. I walked over to my father, his hair and monocle askew. I brushed his hair back into place and gingerly touched his cheek. Cold. He was dead.

I exhaled and quickly made my way out of his room. Mom was at her charging port. I skulked over to her.

"Hello, Isabelle, dear." She smiled at me, her beautiful, sunny smile.

"Hi, Mom." I replied, sitting next to her. I leaned my head on her shoulder.

"Something wrong, dear?" She asked.

"Nope, just experiencing a lifestyle change."

"Well, we all experience those."

~•~
The rest of the day was a blur. Pogo and I had to be interviewed by reporters covering my Father's death, I had to sign release forms for his body to be cremated, and I had to contact Luther with the news. He would be home the next day. Along with everyone else.

I spent most of the night tossing and turning. I was so anxious to see my siblings for the first time in years. I hadn't seen Vanya in 12 years, which is an incredible amount of time to be away from a sibling. So, in the middle of the night I got up and cleaned every square inch of the house, except Dad's room.

Being made of elastic really helps in situations like this. I had one arm in one room, vacuuming, and one arm in another dusting. And plus, cleaning is a great way to take your mind off the death of your dad. Not.

Everything I looked at reminded me of him, and finally, at about 4am, I packed up my cleaning attack, sat in my room, and cried. I think I feel asleep at some point, because I woke up to Pogo in my room, snapping his fingers for me to get up.

"Miss Isabelle, get up! Your siblings are on their way and you are nowhere near ready!" He barked, ushering me into the bathroom with a change of clothes.

I washed up, changed, and was in the library by the time the doorbell rang for the first time. I put down the book I was reading and got up to get it.

I took a deep breath and put my hand on the door knob, before turning it and opening the door. There stood my brother Luther.

"Isabelle, hi." He greeted, obviously feeling awkward. I laughed and pulled him into a hug.

He squeezed me back, tight but not too tight,
"I missed you," I told him.

He let me go, "I missed you too. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed and forced a smile. "Just going through the motions, you know."

"I do, is Pogo in the library?"

I nodded and he patted my shoulder before going to say hi. I hadn't seen him in years, yet he hadn't changed. Same smile, same heroic look in his eye, even same approach to someone he loves. I chuckled, and shook my head. He is so predictable.

Ding dong!

Yay, more siblings for me.

I opened the door again. This time, it was Diego. He looked me straight in the eye, maybe trying to intimidate me. He didn't scare me. I know this guy. This guy is scared of snakes. This guy had a crush on Madonna. His stone cold features didn't even make me flinch.

"Hey, Diego." I smirked.

"Izzy." He didn't.

I gestured for him to come inside. He did, his ridiculously intricate knife holster-vest-thing clinking. I stifled a giggle.

"What's with the outfit?" I asked, smiling a little. He looked truly stupid. He was also wearing some spandex looking jacket thing, and weird skinny black pants.

"It's for work." And he went upstairs.

I groaned in annoyance, "Good to see you too, asshole." I muttered under my breath.

Again, my brothers don't have the capacity to change. At all.

I decided I didn't want to wait around for anyone else to arrive so I went up to my room. I kneeled in front of my bed and grabbed out a box. I opened it. Posters, action figures, lunchboxes. The Umbrella Academy. I pulled out a poster. My thirteen year old face smiled at me, my name written in orange bubble letters above my face.

"You were so adorable."

I smiled. Allison.

I turned around, "Hey, Ally."

"Hey, Izzy."

I got up and gave her a hug. I pulled away and just looked at her face. Her eyes still glowed with the same elegance as the last time I saw her. Which was only about 10 months ago, when she was still married.

"How are you?" I asked. Darkness flickered over her features for a second.

"Better than I had been, but now I just need to think." She replied, clearly choosing her wording carefully.

"I understand."

"Oh, Vanya is here also. Diego is being an ass, maybe a friendly face would cheer her up?" Allison smiled and grabbed my hand.

"Of course," She let go of my hand and left my room with one last smile.

Time to go face my other sister. The one I haven't seen in forever, the one who may hate my guts. Based on how I was portrayed in a certain book of hers, I wouldn't be too surprised. I made my way downstairs and found her talking to Pogo. When she turned around and saw me, her eyes widened.

"Hi, Vanya." I waved.

"Isabelle, good to see you." She replied, coming closer to me. Damn, I forgot how short she was.

"I'm so happy you're here."

"You are?"

"Of course." I opened my arms and hugged her. She was stiff at first but melted into the hug.

After I pulled away from the hug, I heard, "Don't get your panties in a twist." Klaus. He wasn't dead from an overdose yet. I chuckled and Vanya rolled her eyes. I walked back upstairs where he was tucking something into one of his coat pockets.

"Hey, Klaus, you're not dead yet?" I asked.

He looked up and saw me, and then he smiled.
"Izzy! Wow, you look great."

I walked over to him and gave him a hug, this one lingering. After I pulled away, I caught a brightly colored bracelet. Rehab. At least he was trying to get clean.

Then Luther called us all into the library.

A/N
I'm done! It's really long, and the dialogue is meh, but I just needed this chapter out, and now we can have the real fun. Remember to vote and comment!!