8 ○ Umbrella Academy

D. S. Umbrella

As it would happen, finding Diego was easier than I thought it'd be. Funnily enough, Five got to Diego before I did, following the source of both of their minds once I was close enough. I found them at the television store I'd dropped Five off at, the main floor deserted and the building quiet. I looked around as I followed the source of their thoughts upstairs, the addition of two new brain signals causing my steps to slow. I instantly became lighter on my feet, looking into a dark room with a projected video playing on the wall. I couldn't determine who was who by silhouettes but I knew Diego and Five were in this room.

Instead, I turned my attention to watching, still taking silent steps forward. "We are in Dallas, Texas to see the President. Today's date is November 22, 1963." My thoughts went blank, now in the doorway I could recognize Five's miniscule stature.

"That's six days from now," one of the new thoughts spoke, the accent confusing me. There generally weren't a lot of people with British accents who travel to Dallas of all places. Hell, I wouldn't be here if not for Five's screw up.

"Holy shit. This is it." My steps fell short, Diego's voice causing me pause. I didn't recognize him until he spoke, I only recognized him for the knife he held. I'd seen him this week, I knew what he looked like, but seeing him free of the asylum was odd. Refreshing, but odd. "The grassy knoll. Kennedy's about to get shot." I stared a long moment, wondering how he, of all people, hadn't noticed me lurking just behind them, especially when he turned to Five. "How do you have this?"

"Hazel died to get me this footage," Five informed. "It must be the key to stopping doomsday."

"Hazel?" Diego prodded. Ever the detective, my dear brother, I thought with a soft breath. As if my mental voice within my own head was enough to pull him from the video, his head turned further and took me in. He looked me over a moment, his shaggy hair obscuring most of the scars on his face.

"Long story," Five chided, irritation pulling on his voice.

"What's doomsday?" the new person asked. While the fourth person's thoughts were panicked, they were surprisingly silent.

"Longer story." I scoffed, instantly pulling the attention of the room to myself, the woman belonging to the accented voice searching my brothers' faces for information. On me, doomsday, both if her mental confusion meant anything.

"What exactly did he say to you?" Diego asked, slowly turning back to Five.

"Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it's on this film." I tilted my head as I held the woman's stare, gazing at one another for a short moment before she turned back to the projection. I quickly realized that the fourth person's silence, a terrified looking man, was due to being gagged and bound to a chair. Upon further inspection, the woman had been painting his toe nails. I was still just confused as to who they were, not getting to check their heads as screaming filled the room.

My attention snapped back to the projection, watching as people scrambled about, rightfully so, Kennedy had just been assassinated. Whatever caught Five's attention, I'd completely missed within the chaos unfolding on the film, but he quickly stood and rewound the film, pausing it and pulling the projector back until he stood near me. He hadn't closed the distance before I'd caught on, a man standing under an umbrella with an unmistakable goatee. "Okay, is someone gunna fill me in now? What the hell is this shit we're watching?"

Neither of them answered her and I was in too much of a daze to say much, I barely caught what Diego and Five said to each other. Not only were we stuck here in 1963. It seemed our father had something to do with it, considering he was standing on the street Kennedy was shot. Taking a deep breath, I put my hands on my head and left the room. Five and Diego knew I was here, if they wanted to talk they could easily follow. I walked to the overhand above the store, this entire upstairs area a personal living space.