Never Love an Anchor {The Umbrella Academy}

Family Reunions Fun

1, 2, 3, 4. Plié from first, tendu. 5, 6, 7, 8. Rond de jambe, back through first and repeat over and over until it's perfect. The sound of Tchaikovsky plays softly, but Aurora, Rory, Hargreeves' grip on the barre was anything but. "You're not supposed to do that," she says grinding her teeth so hard her jaw clicked. Her grip only tightened, smearing blood across barre. Throughout the last hour she had chewed her nails to a nub and named her cuticles until they dripped red.

When it's perfect everyone and everything will be ok. She won't find her grandfather dead in the morning. There will be no big family reunion and the nice little rhythm Rory had fallen into with Pogo, her grandmother and her grandfather would remain undisturbed. The visions of the people she cares about dead and the world burning with them will be nothing more than a bad memory. Nothing bad will happen if the next three sequences are perfect.

The creaking of the door flying open momentarily broke her from her catastrophizing.

"Girl, while I too enjoy the classics enjoyment is reserved for the time between 10 am and 11 am. Bedtime starts promptly at 9:30 pm and seeing as it is half past 11 pm I think it is time for you to sleep," said her grandfather, Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

"I'm almost done, I just need to finish this last sequence," Rory said as she went back to work.

Reginald Hargreeves turned off Rory's record player . "No, to bed."

Rory stopped dead. "But I - "

"No and I will not argue with you anymore. Sleep."

Rory only nodded sadly as she broke away from the barre and made her way to her bed.

"You know you're going to die tonight," she said, the sad whisper falling from her mouth against her better judgement.

"Goodnight girl," he said, "Remember what I need you to do."

He turns to leave before turning back once more. Looking at his granddaughter, he says, "Make sure someone looks and your hands tomorrow. Biting your nails like will leave you vulnerable to infection!"

The enigmatic man certainly had more money than kindness, but if you looked closely, zoomed in, pull out your magnifying glass, and squint really hard, you could see the fondness he held for his granddaughter.

The door closed behind him. Rory did not sleep for one moment that night.

When the sunlight finally trickled in, Rory mustered up her strength and pulled herself out of bed. She dragged herself down the hall like a zombie, to her grandfathers room, a place she would have normally never dared to enter. She paused, her hand on the doorknob.

"Grandpa?" She knew there would be no answer, but she had to try anyway. She opened the door and there he laid. He almost looked peaceful for once, his regular grimace softened in the embrace of death.

Rory shook her head and whispered "What an idiot."

He was dead, the world will ending, and it might just be all her fault.

* * *

The house had creaked louder than they had in many years the morning of Sir Reginald Hargreeves' funeral. It was almost a comfort for Rory to know that her family had returned.  Almost.  She only really knew half of them, having left before she was even three and the other half - well she had been old enough that when they left,  she realized they were choosing to leave her.