you were everything

I Five I

☂ eternal peace is probably overrated ☂ 

For as long as I can remember, I have observed the Umbrella Academy the way one might observe a colony of ants. Maybe a microbial world of infection. 

I understand how they work. 

Luther attempts to take charge with a ridiculous claim. Diego counters with an equally ridiculous claim, though always the complete opposite of Luther's. 

Allison frequently agrees with Luther, Vanya is not permitted an option, and Klaus is simply the comedic relief. 

Number Five was not around long enough to fit in this chaotic dynamic.

"I do not believe that Dad killed himself," Luther says stubbornly. 

His capacity to ignore logical facts is quite impressive. Logic truly fears him. 

"Is that so?" 

"You just got here, so be quiet," says Luther. "The last day I saw Dad, he seemed worried. Almost unhinged. Told me to be careful who to trust."

"Yeah, because he was a paranoid old man, Number One," Diego says mockingly. "Besides the autopsy results confirmed a heart failure." 

"Well, yes, but we don't know that for sure," Luther argues.

"Wouldn't they know?" says Vanya. 

"Theoretically." 

"Theoretically?"

"Dad's monocle is gone," Luther says. "Can you think of a time you ever saw him without it?" 

I wonder if Reginald bathed with the monocle. Surely he didn't sleep in it? 

"Who found him?" Allison asks. 

"Pogo," I say. "He said he could not find the monocle." 

Allison side glances me again, but I cannot understand why. 

"There's no mystery here," says Diego. "The story is that a sad old man kicked the bucket alone in his house. Like he very much deserved." 

Luther scoffs, unconvinced. 

"You don't really believe that he was murdered, do you?" Alison asks. "I mean, none of us really liked Dad, but we wouldn't kill him." 

"I don't know about the rest of you," Luther says, his voice heavy with accusation. "Especially her." He jerks his chin toward me.

I arch a brow. "You know it's rude to point, right?" My voice is flat, bored. "And for the record, Dad wasn't murdered."

"Maybe you saw something," Luther presses, throwing up his hands. "That's all I'm saying."

I sigh. "He didn't visit me the night before he died. But that's not exactly shocking."

"And the plot thickens!" Klaus declares, throwing a dramatic hand in the air.

"Listen," Luther says, crossing his arms, "I'm just saying—it's suspicious." His gaze flicks to Klaus. "I know you hate doing it, but I need you to talk to Dad."

Klaus makes a face. "What—in the afterlife?" He scoffs. "I can't just be like, 'Hey, Dad, could you stop playing tennis with Hitler for a minute and tell me if you were murdered?'"

"That's literally your power."

"I'm not in the right...mindframe," Klaus hedges.

"You're high," I conclude.

"Exactly! See, she gets me!" Klaus grins, gesturing at me like I've just won a prize.

"Whatever," Luther mutters. "Someone took his monocle. Someone with a grudge."

"Where are you going with this?" Vanya murmurs.

I narrow my eyes. "Isn't it obvious? He thinks one of us killed Dad."

Silence. Then—

"Us?" Luther repeats, eyes locking onto me. There's a weight behind the word, a dismissal. "I don't remember you being a part of this at all."

The room tilts.

For my entire life, I've been an outsider.

Why did I think this would be any different?

"That's a really shitty thing to say," Vanya says, louder than usual. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be completely alone? No, you don't. Because you were Number One. The golden boy. The only one who ever mattered to Dad."

Luther's jaw tightens. For the first time, he looks uncertain.

"None of us killed him, asshole," Vanya finishes, quieter this time.

Klaus claps, slow and deliberate.

Diego groans and pushes to his feet. "I'm done with this. Sorry not sorry." He strides out without a second glance.

Luther's hands clench at his sides. "Fine. Anyone else?"

"Yep." I stand. Klaus and Vanya follow without hesitation. Only Alison remains, eyes flickering between us and Luther.

"Luther..." she says softly. But I don't wait to hear the rest.

We disappear around the corner. A moment later, Alison's door clicks shut behind us, leaving Luther alone in the empty room.

Dad's urn sits on the shelf, gleaming in the dim light. Silent. Watching.

Then the music turns on.

Children, behave

That's what they say when we're together

And watch how you play

They don't understand

And so we're

Running just as fast as we can

Holding on to one another's hand

Trying to get away into the night

And then you put your arms around me

And we tumble to the ground and then you say

I think we're alone now

There doesn't seem to be anyone around

I think we're alone now

The beating of our hearts is the only sound