𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙘 〘 ☂︎ 〙𝙁𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙨

• Prologue •

— • — • —

On October 1st, 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth simultaneously, despite the fact that none of them were pregnant in the first place. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, an eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to find and adopt as many of these children as possible. However, he only got seven of them, which he named The Umbrella Academy.

He trained these children as just, sending them on missions and whatnot. However, on October 1st, 2004, a specific baby was given to Hargreeves for the extra body parts it had. She was known as the 44th baby to be born but also called Number 8.

— • — • —

It was late at night, with nobody in sight—a woman running with a baby in her hands. Panting and short of breath, she heard the wind loud in her ears as she ran. She was running towards the Umbrella Academy, where she knew it was the only place to get rid of her hideous child. A child where some would think it was a blessing to be born. Opening the gates and running to the front door, she banged hard on it. It wasn't long before another woman in vintage wearings opened the door.

"I need to talk to Reginald Hargreeves." The woman spoke in one quick breath. She only received a nod from a confused Grace, letting the young woman in. She was led into the billionaire's office, where he sat monitoring the other children from computers. "Grace, who is this, and why does she have a baby in her hands?" the old man asked sternly, only looking up for a split second.

"She claims her baby has wings, sir," Grace told him, which made him stop everything he was doing. The old man looked up at the woman before him, looking him up and down before fixating on the bundled baby. "Wings, you say?" he asked, his interest piqued, and he was very focused on the slumbered child held in her arms.

The baby cooed in its sleep as it nuzzled its face into its mother. She only looked about two months old. "She was normal when she was first born, but she started sprouting wings, and I panicked. I can't raise a child with wings. So when I saw you and the Umbrella Academy on the news, I knew what to do. You seem like the only person who knows how to deal with these kinds of things. You can take her; I don't need any money." She spoke of concern and almost disgust as he stood up from his desk.

He walked around and grabbed the baby from its mother. Undoing the blanket, it was swaddled in; it began to cry out louder than any baby should be able to. The two covered their ears, and Reginald quickly turned the baby over. There were a couple of feathers sprouting, just like the lady had said. When he flipped it back around, ink started to pour from its tear ducts. The mother gasped in shock and shook her head furiously.

"That's the devil's child! I will never take it back!" She exclaimed, as dear Reggie only looked intrigued. "A girl, well, you were right about there being feathers. And it's clear she has some other abilities she could inherit. I'll take her. You won't be worrying about her any longer."

— • — • —

A few months later, the rest of the academy grew quite fond of her. They called her Number Eight, or just Eight for short. And eventually, Y/n. Grace took most care of the baby. Whenever she was too busy, the children would take care of her.

They were only 14 and in training. The only entertainment Eight had at the time was their powers. Although, the ones who were most fond of her were Luther and Ben.

"Ben, come play with me!" Klaus exclaimed, who was standing in front of his favorite brother's bedroom door. He was reaching for the top of the door frame to swing on. "But I want to play with Y/n." He pouted, looking at the tiny baby sitting in front of him on the floor. "Fine... oh, I know! We could dress her up! I'll go get Allison." Number Four cheered before running off into his sister's room.

"Now look, Y/n, when you learn to fly, do you think you'll have enough strength to carry me with you? Well, not exactly now since you're a baby, but when you're older like me." He asked, almost as if she understood every word he was saying. All she responded back with was baby babbles and coos.

Klaus then returned to the room with Allison, holding baby clothes and a few accessories. "Come here, Eight, it's time to be bedazzled!" Allison squealed as she picked up her little sister and placed her on Ben's bed.

— • — • —

At the time, she didn't know how to talk or learn her first words until she was about a year old. Overall, Luther mainly taught her how to talk—or at least, he tried to.

"Now, Y/n, I know you're already a year old, but I need you to say some words already! So we can communicate! Can you say that? Com-you-ni-cate." He spelled it out, but she wasn't paying attention to him.

"Oh, come on, Eight, you need to say your first word sooner or later." He frowned as Ben knocked on his bedroom door. Letting himself in, his eyes quickly fixated on the cherub-like child. "Can I play with Eight now?" He asked, catching the tiny creature's attention.

Eight cooed happily, Luther smiling down at her before he could even answer Ben. "B-Buh." She began, struggling to say something. "Are you going to say something, Y/n? Come on!" Luther cheered as she reached out for Ben. "B-Ben!" She said out loud, making the dark-haired boy run over smiling. He picked her up, carrying her with joy and delight. "I was her first word! See Luther, I was her first word. Me, Number Six." He smiled, making Luther cross his arms upsettingly.

— • — • —

Other than Luther and Ben, Vanya took care of her when the others were on missions. She would always sit the young baby in front of her while she played her violin. Vanya was claimed to have no power, so nobody wanted to play with her. She was mostly ignored. But at least she had her little sister as company. It was not like she was going to start training anytime soon.

"Do you want me to play you a song, Eight?" Vanya asked as the tiny baby babbled and clapped her hands. She smiled and started playing a song to her on her violin.

It soon sent the baby to sleep, and she took her to her room and put her in her crib. "Thanks for keeping me company, Y/n."

— • — • —

As she grew older, she watched as her siblings slowly departed from the family. Countless fights and misunderstandings never understood, but she still tried to keep them together. They said they would visit, but they never did. Luther was the only one who stayed, at least, only because of the fact he was still trying to suck up to Reginald. He took immense care of her and watched over her till day's end. She even knew about Luther having a near-death experience and his body being replaced as an ape from a serum.

When he left for a mission on the moon, Eight could only beg her father not to send him. Ignoring and declining her request numerous times, he did it anyway. While he was gone, her father tried his best to train her. But she failed him, disappointing him ever more than her siblings did. She struggled to fly or manipulate her powers in any way.

Instead of making her father proud, her wings dragged and drooped behind her. She constantly knocked over things, nicknaming herself a klutz. She toppled things over in her sleep to the point where her father had to make her room soundproof and replace most things with plastic. After all the doubt and entering a slightly depressed state, she always found herself sitting in the living room staring up at the painting over the fireplace. Staring every night in hope and deep thought. The one person she had always dreamed of meeting,

Number Five.

Word Count: 1,419