Wonder • Five Hargreeves

38

The Day that Wasn't

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The first time the children of the Umbrella Academy saw death, real and true death, it was long before their first mission.

Long before they grew used to it. Long before they, themselves, were willing to kill.

Reginald Hargreeves flew them into a far off corner of the world, and made them walk along the mass graves.

Klaus threw up. He sobbed so hard...was too terrified to even step foot off the plane. There were too many; too many dead, too many angry, too many desperate. They all wanted to touch him, grab him, make him listen to their stories. It was the first of many terrible panic attacks that plagued poor number 4. This one, the start of them, was one of the worst. Reginald had Pogo knock Klaus out and left the young boy in the plane, disgusted.

The others faired a little better... but not by much.

Allison hyperventilated when they found a dead girl their age. Their size, their shape; still a kid. She panicked and rumored Reginald into letting her leave despite the consequences (which she paid for dearly), and ran back to the plane to cry. She didn't stop crying for another week- and eventually rumored herself to forget. She still wasnt the same after... some things stick around.

Diego and Ben were next. Diegos stutter became worse with stress and it became so bad he could barely speak at all. His father asked him something, and no matter how hard he tried; he couldnt respond. Ben, himself, became so disturbed by the death that his stomach started to tear open itself and the tentacles took on a mind of their own. They were both sent back to the plane in disappointment.

Luther cried. He tried so hard not to, but his heart broke into a million pieces when he saw a father cry over his son. He walked at the front, fists and jaw clenched, and tears fell down his cheeks. Reginald sneered at him, but Luther was determined not to be sent back, not to be a failure despite his failings. So he stayed, walked, and cried.

Five's eyes were hard, but his sadness was overruled by anger. He glared at everything with righteous indignation. How could it have happened? How could they have stopped it? He hated everything he saw, but refused to look away. These people- their pain deserved to be seen. Their deaths deserved to be remembered so that changes could be made. So that the world could be saved.

He didnt want to be there though, among the graves, amoung the death. He would prefer the plane, prefer to throw himself back into his books and lab. He didn't care to prove anything to his Father like Luther. The only reason he actually stayed on the march was because she did.

He walked side by side with Winnie, hand in hand.

Winnie didnt cry.

Messy blonde-white hair, hazy eyes like she wasn't all there.. she just walked along. She glanced at everything; blood, gore, bodies, destruction, the sky, clouds, trees, flowers... She took it all in almost robotically.

"Number 8, what do you think of this?" Reginald asked pointedly as he stopped their march. He pulled out his booklet and turned to a fresh page- ever the researcher. Winnie loved that about him. Her father, so smart.

"Its... just a lot of people." The little girl shrugged, her eyes half lidded like she was moments from a dream. Her words, a harsh contradiction, were ice on the skin. "A lot of people I dont know."

Reginald raised an eyebrow and tapped his journal with the pen. He thought about her answer- and then decided to push. "What if you did know them? What if it was your family?"