8 ○ Umbrella Academy

Bon Voyage

I was surrounded by an overwhelming sensation, similar to the one I obtained through hugging Klaus after he'd returned from the Vietnam War. My back slammed hard into wet pavement, rain droplets quickly pelting my body and encouraging me to open my eyes. A familiar vortex hung above my head, although it seemed I was the only one thrown out. I tried to speak but slamming into the ground had nearly knocked the wind out of me and the sensations leftover from time travel left me exhausted. Instead, my pleas for my brothers merely sounded like dying wheezes: "Diego? Five?" 

I rolled onto my side, shielding my face from the rain and running a hand over my eyes. I could feel the scar on my left eye, at least Five was able to maintain our adult bodies. I'd hate to go through puberty again, I chuckled to myself. But the thought set an uneasy feeling in my stomach, one I had trouble pushing down and ignoring.

Sure, I could hear the thoughts of the people nearby, but my mind felt empty. I couldn't feel Diego within my own mind. Where his end of the rope usually resided, there was an empty tether. It made me feel hollow. This emptiness along with the horrible jet lag made my stomach churn, so suddenly there was no time to even try to fight the urge. I could only push myself up onto my elbows and support myself while my stomach purged it's contents. 

By the time I was able to breathe without my chest rattling, I had forced myself to stand and had leaned against the side of an alley, surveying the street around me. Several cars cruised down the street, looking like ones I'd only seen in old movies, what little amount of people were outside hustled to get under an awning or wherever they needed to be. The air was humid, the rain warm and made the air feel as if it would suffocate people if it poured any harder. 

There was still a tremble in my hands as I slowly walked down the street, looking for any identifiers I could get my hands on. I didn't know where, let alone when, I had landed. I'd gotten a few blocks down the street before I came across a newspaper, the ink spreading from being rained on and making it difficult to discern very much. Thankfully, what I needed was only slightly smudged, November 20, 1962. Dallas, 1962. "You really fudged that one up, didn't ya, Five?" I sighed.

With nothing else really left for me to do, I continued walking, and despite the rain being warm I was soon chilled to the bone. I shivered down the street, walking for maybe half an hour before my legs started refusing to cooperate. I leaned against a building and ran my hands over my legs, my fingers stiff and the overwhelming sensation of helplessness fully setting in. From what I could tell, I was alone here. I didn't have anyone or anywhere to go, and sadly enough the last week had formed a new bond with my siblings, rekindling my old fear of being separated from them and setting my chest ablaze. After a certain point I forgot about myself, becoming deeply concerned for my family. 

Klaus and Diego could manage themselves, I could honestly care less for Luther's wellbeing at the moment, but Allison still couldn't speak. The Civil Rights movement didn't gain any real traction for several more years and just walking down the street I'd seen more "WHITES ONLY" signs than I was comfortable with. And Vanya? She recently got off the meds Dad kept her on for years, her mind was fragile, not to mention how she'd react to being dropped out of the sky and lost in time. She was already furious with us, who knows how she'd take this? And then, as if my mind were on a merry-go-round my thoughts drifted back to myself.

I didn't have the silencing drugs Dad produced. I didn't have any drugs. I'd be stuck within my own head - and funnily enough everyone else's - until I had the means to buy my own. My hands left my legs to wipe rain water from my eyes, fingers pressed to my temples as my head began a strong pounding.