Chapter Text
Vanya stays. (Number Seven stays).
In another universe, (timeline, alternate reality, whatever) , she moves out. Her room at the Academy stays the same, she never decorated, she never made it hers. She is no one but a passerby, it’s a rest stop on the way to anywhere else.
Im another Universe, Vanya walks up to Reginald Hargreeve’s office, and knocks. She doesn’t actually wait for an answer, but slides open the door and steps in. (She learnt pretty early on that if left to Father to decide, he wouldn’t seie them). At eighteen, almost nineteen, she makes her one and only defiant act to him, the one thing that suggested maybe she has a backbone.
Diego is impressed. At dinner later that night, Vanya doesn’t show up, (but she’s always first?)
And no one notices and still no one notices. It’s a quick month that goes by and no one notices, until Klaus looks up and bluntly says, “Hey? Has anyone seen Vanya recently?”, To which Reginald replies that Number Seven has moved out of Umbrella Academy for reasons he will not disclose.
(He phrases it in a way that makes it seem as if he is in control of the situation, as if it wasn’t on Vanya’s terms).
In reality it actually goes like this:
Timid little Vanya Hargreeves, marches up to the desk, hands behind her back. Respectful. Wearing her own clothes. Disrespectful. When Reginald does not look up from scribbling in his notebooks, she speaks, neutral but commanding. “I’m moving out.”
She gives him no say in the matter, and he actually looks up, monocle glinting.
“Now then, Vanya, don’t you think it is too much-”, his voice is so… it’s commanding, so, so cold makes her almost rethink her decision. But the face he makes when she cuts him off is better than anything she has ever experienced.
“I’m sorry, I should have phrased that better. I have already moved out. I have given my new address to Mom and Pogo.” Reginald opens his mouth once more but Vanya drives on, “I know Luther has already said this, I am a liability in this household. Someone could find me and use you against this family. It will be good to get rid of any superfluous sentimentality”.
He can never refuse a logical argument, she can tell, his calculating gaze sliding over her small stature, (she’s wearing a hoodie that once belonged to Ben, a small half finished notebook from Five that is in her pocket), “Very well, Vanya. Your first month’s rent shall be paid, until you find yourself a job. I shall have your prescription copied over to your nearest pharmacy”.
She doesn’t tell him she has had a job already, stacking shelves in a local grocery stall. She also doesn’t refuse the money. She also knows to some it may sound caring. A concerning elusive billionaire caring after his children. She knows better.
“Thank you, Father”.
“You are dismissed”, his pen is already back on paper when she turns around, gathers the last of her things, and leaves.
(It was if she was never there at all).
In this world, something else happens. Five and Ben are still) dead , missing and dead, respectfully. Here, however, the person that encourages her to have a backbone is missing, and her silent supporter is dead. There was no one else to give her that push, so she stays.
Number Seven stays.
And, eventually, everyone else leaves. Almost everyone, actually.
Allison is first. A main part in the next teenage rom-com. (The family congratulate her and pretend they don’t know she rumoured her way in).
She leaves the next day to go to LA, room left as is. “It’s okay”, she says with a dismissive shrug, “I can buy more”.
Diego is next. He leaves with a fistbump to Klaus laying on one of the sofa, and a parting flipped finger at Luther. He says a general goodbye, and she knows it doesn’t actually cover her. He’s gone to join the Police Academy, on the path to become a Detective. He should be leaving in a week but Diego in a fight (read: disobeyed direct orders on a mission, ad got a punishment), which means subsequently that Luther starts lecturing (read: fighting ) with him too, so he leaves the next day with a duffle bag full of clothes and the aforementioned farewell.
(“I see you haven't left the nest yet,” Diego taunts, in the Detective Academy now, “Still doing what daddy dearest says”.
“You do the same thing as me,” Luther says, eyes narrowed, gearing up for the fight, “Just more… legally”.
“And what does that say about you then? Huh?”)
You could say Klaus is next, but then Klaus never really left either, but he doesn’t stay.
Since Klaus was fifteen and learnt that weed helped stifle the ghosts as much as Ben’s presence did, (It doesn’t help that Ben’s now doing the haunting), it was only a matter of time before he spiralled, eyes red rimmed and hands constantly shaking, sleeping on a different sofa every night, sometimes friends, sometimes at random parties, the back of an ambulance. Rehab. Klaus started slipping out of bed in the middle of the night and not coming back for week(s). His bed is always available at the Academy, washed daily by Grace, welcomed with dinner the comforting smile Vanya gives because she knows that he only comes back when either 1) He’s too high to remember the terrors the night brings here. 2) The drugs aren’t enough to suppress the screaming, and crashing in familiar surroundings can’t do anything worse.
Luther never leaves. Always there, at dinner, training constantly, classes until even Reginald recognises that he’s too old for high school algebra, and learning at University level doesn’t do anything to help the Missions.
Vanya thinks that Luther stays because he doesn’t know how to leave, how to get from underneath Father’s thumb. Too scared of the repercussions.
And Vanya? Vanya stays.
(Is it fair to say that she never left if she was never truly there to begin with. She is self aware enough to recognise that she isn’t wanted.
(It’s whispered with every step she takes. Every word said to her by Father, a thinly veiled insult telling her she’s useless, every slap and black eye that she doesn’t need to cover up because no one will ever see.)
There’s no pictures of her, no evidence that she exists bar an old violin and a bare bedroom.
(Does it really count as self-awareness if it's the only thing she’s ever been told).
And through the years, the dynamics of the family change , in a way no one could have foreseen.
In another world, Vanya is closest with Five, sarcastic, cocky Number Five who didn’t even get a name. Who encouraged her to be more bold, invited her to come with them on their midnight outings to the nearest cafe or McDonalds. She refuses, if only because she knows she isn’t wanted. Ben sends her a sorry smile and leaves a chocolate muffin on her desk the next morning. Five might have done so too if he was more attune to emotional ways of showing fondness. (Five is a solid presence when she has a breakdown, when the pills make her so numb she doesn’t if she’ll ever feel anything again. When she seems trapped out at sea with the water muffling her ears and she can only hear Five’s breathing to anchor her.)
And Ben, who she read books with in the library, who she lulled to sleep with her violin when The Terror became too bad after a mission or the nightmares became too much and she was all that was there.
Klaus would be there too, with Ben, a loose grin and funny remarks that seem less funny as time wears on. (Until Ben dies and he pulls away from everyone, and so does Vanya, both too caught up in greif to see anyone else. Klaus at least, draws attention from the others when he breaks down).
(She isn’t stupid enough to not realise that she isn’t thier first choice of company, Five will regularly only come her her first if he needs someone to talk and vent too, needs someone to listen and be silent ).
The other three well....
Number One, Number Two, Number Three. Luther, Diego, Allison.
For all the ways that Luther and Diego fight, they really do stick together most, both loudly following Father whenever.
Allison is a bright presence that makes other people feel unworthy to be there with her, (apart from Luther, which frankly Vanya thinks is rather disgusting, but doesn’t comment).
In this Universe, it’s almost exactly the same.
Until something different happens. Vanya stays.
Instead of drifting apart when they leave, talking to each other less and less until they pretend the only thing that ties them is a childhood tattoo and not a childhood of individual and collective trauma from their family.
Instead, Vanya acts as a tie to the house, a warm human presence - Grace and Pogo are only so good. One being an android, another a genetically modified ape. And Luther… was actually as shit at emotions as everyone else in the family it seemed.
But the biggest thing is that a tentative relationship grows between Luther and Vanya. And NO, not in the way you are thinking.
But as more than distant siblings who only interact because they have the same friend of friends and are the only person to talk to.
Friends.
“Hey, Vanya?” Luther’s voice seems nervous, in a way that she’s never really heard before, and certainly not at her.
Vanya looks up from the book she’s reading- Jane Eyre, who is currently sleeping in the peat, struggling to get by, blinking in confusion at the blond in the doorway, “What do you need help with?” Is the automatic reply. It’s coming to the end of the first month with only the two of the remaining children in the house, and the empty house had them talking less than they had before.
Luther winces, edging in further with the doorway, though he can’t deny the accusation- it’s not really an accusation, there is no biting edge to her voice, no resentment in her eyes, just accepting shadowed by her long bangs, “Do you have notes from yesterday’s Math lesson? I wrote it so quickly I can’t really read my own writing”, he ducks his head, embarrassed.
But Vanya only nods, “I’ll get it for you now”, and she slips out of the room, running lightly to fetch her notes- a neat near cursive in a scribble lined notebook. She runs back downstairs, only pausing slightly to glance at the other doors, all closed, bed cold and empty.
She rushes back down, handing it over, hesitating to sit back down with her book, “You could do the homework in here if you like, I can help you if you get stuck”.
Luther can’t even take the words as offensive, not like he could at Five’s who would offer with a condescending note to his voice as he explained the principle of Newton’s Three Laws. There’s only honesty, she knows she is slightly better at math than him, that she’s probably already done the homework. “I can't,” he says.
Vanya’s face falls slightly, not really enough to be really noticeable, but her words show more, “Oh! Of course, I should have expected that, I’m sorry I asked, besides, I have to practice my violin now, I don’t know why I offered”.
“No, no it's okay”, Luther hastily backpacks, wondering when his little sister, (in the adjective sense of the word, she is tiny, once the tallest for a couple months, but staying only 5’1 while the others became so much taller), was so… pathetic , and he doesn’t really mean it badly but, did he not pay attention enough? When did she start apologising so much, “I’ve got training now, but tomorrow? Saturday, that is, I’d uh, appreciate your help”.
And Vanya lights up- someone needs her help. No, it’s much more simpler than that, someone wants to willingly spend time with her.
When Luther goes down to training then, the sound of a violin fills the air. She practices in the hall- as willed by her father- and she can’t exactly not play when she told Luther that’s what she was doing. The sounds of Tchaikovsky haunt the house, a soulful tune that leaves Luther strangely comforted as he lifts his weights, forgoing his usual music. It’s a small act, a small step to becoming friends, that leaves the house just a touch lighter.
It continues like that for a while, when Klaus and Diego aren’t visiting- they visit more than Allison, who calls them once a week to make sure Luther is alive before disappearing, never really visiting.
(“It’s too far to fly just to see yo- the Academy”, Allison would say, voice light, though Vanya knew the real reason, once she left this place, why come back? You don’t come back to the place you escape from.)
It’s a routine, where they will spend the hour break after class to go through, to do the work, then go to their respective training- strength and Violin. And when Reginald goes away, a conference, an experiment, a lecture, and the training lightens up and they don’t do as much classwork, when they don’t need to do their training…
Vanya is sat cross legged on her bed, stiff and hunched over, reading through the comforting pages of Little Women (a family that tries their hardest to connect to each other, despite their faults, through their faults, something she desperately wishes for), and there's a soft knock on her door followed by,
“I’m going to train for a bit”, and he sounds nervous, before she hears the telltale steps of him walking down the stairs to the training room.
Vanya is confused for a moment, never has he gone out of his way to tell her that he is training- oh.
She hopes she understands right when she picks up her violin, and treads out into the hallway, following the route to the hallway. She doesn’t bring a music stand, or even music, instead deciding to pick a piece she knows off heart- A Phantom Of the Opera Medley that she just adores.
Picking up the polished violin, and placing it under her chin, she begins playing, and she only knows she is right when she slaps of a punching bag being hit followed in due time, and she can’t but help smile slightly, warmed by the small gesture- Luther enjoys her music, wanted to hear it when he trains. It's something that he could have easily been bypassed, ignored in favour of his usual records, or ipod.
The music swells in the Music of the Night section, and so does her lungs, happiness making her chest rise and her eyes shut, so caught up in the music she doesn't realise this is the best she’s ever played (she also doesn't remember that she's forgot to take her medication this morning).
In short, she thinks finally, maybe she could have an actual friend in the Academy, Number One , no less. Opposite ends on command and power, they never interacted more than they had to.
(When Father says jump, Luther leaps. When Father says you should ignore Vanya, she's not like you, she will distract you all with her ordinary ways, Luther dives head first into that instruction. She wonders what changed, whether it's Father's word wearing off, or the realisation that even with it The Umbrella Academy drifted apart in favour for the ordinary life.)
Things changed with Pogo too, or their father, but Vanya doubted it was of his ruling that at breakfast one morning, when Reginald was at a scientific lecture at Oxford, England, he cleared his throat, staring at the two remaining occupants of the house.
“Masters Luther and Vanya, we have decided at your age it is time for a room upgrade, you may move into the respective rooms we have chosen. You can forgo your usual classes for moving things into your new rooms”.
Vanya and Luther exchanged a glance. A new room? That was… something, never one to give outlandish gifts such as clothes other than a uniform, toys, or adventures outside of the Academy, a new room- in the guest bedrooms no less. This was… wow.
“No classes at all today?” Vanya asked Pogo, something akin to excitement bubbling up inside, smiling brightly when Pogo replied no, walking away to do… whatever it was Pogo did when not helping them.
“Thank you!” Vanya called out to his turned back.
“Yeah, thank you!” Luther tagged on, shovelling oatmeal into his mouth, “Isn’t this great! Dad’s great for doing this!”
Vanya smiled tightly back, wondering if Luther knew that Father would ever give this, and was probably the work of Pogo- and Grace combined, “Yeah! Great!” As much as she was excited for this, she wondered if Reginald would be expecting something in return, something much more serious than their lifelong devotion to him and never questioning loyalty.
Luther moves his things out in a couple of hours, transferring old records carefully, and clothes in huge bundles. Vanya does it in less than an hour and Luther can’t help but wonder why she stays.
He never realised before how little stuff she owns. The little things, like how Allisons bedroom is filled with personality, old scarfs and ha;f empty bottles of perfume strewn around with candles. There’s posters of the latest boy bands and her favourite movie and pictures of the two of them and the group and it’s so Allison that he sometimes avoids it for days and others sits on her bed just staring (Allison was his best friend, nothing more, nothing less, and he hates how much it aches when she says once again that she’s not coming back to visit). Or like Klaus, where it seems he displays his life in his room, muddled up rubix cube, stickers half peeling where he tried to solve it by cheating, clothes he’s stolen from Allison and bits and pieces he’s stolen and bought from One Dollar Stores that he couldn’t resist.
Vanya’s is bare. A grey cube, no better than a prison cell. A music stand, her violin case and her limited wardrobe, a handful of books she keeps from the library (and Ben), an old soft hoodie from Klaus.
She moves over to the new bedroom then escapes down the fire escape, and he doesn’t see her for the rest of the day.
Luther spends the rest of the day thinking. He was angry at first that she was staying. He just couldn’t understand why , she was ordinary, useless, she had no place in the house in the first place, why stay now, when she could escape? Not that… not that there was anything to escape from. He avoided her, her small figure and pale skin made her presence seem more like a haunting, like she was nothing but a ghost floating through the house.
(Without anyone else in the house she seems even smaller, sinking into loneliness- or maybe she was already so lonely).
But then, Luther did need her help, and she was… there. And he realised that he was lonely too. The violin he had once hated, screeching and so, so sad, (couldn’t she ever play someone more happy?)(Was there anything happy to play about?), that he had shouted at her too many times before-
“Shut UP, Vanya, no one wants to hear that!” Childish shouting, genuine rage, “You’re distracting our training!”
Now he can’t help but understand what she sees in the instrument, the melodies soft to the ear and it resonates now within him. He steps into her room, sheets pulled tightly in a way even he can’t replicate. There’s no pictures on the walls, no anything. It makes him choke up, remembering how they isolated her, never interacting, unless… unless they needed her.
(He remembers Five ranting about theories, about how he is so sure he is ready for time travel, remembers her comforting Ben when Klaus is too high to talk, when The Horror gets too much, remembers holding Klaus through a particularly hard come down, through the aftermath of Ben (how they all berated her at the funeral, how they blamed her ), remembers when Allison needed someone to try a new hairstyle or makeup look on, when she needed someone to talk to about him, did they ever do anything for her? Help her bruises, figuratively and literally, when she helped others?)
So, he lays on his bed, puts on his favourite record as loud as possible, and pretends that it didn’t happen.
Vanya learns baking next to Grace, and pretends that it’s a real person.
Learns first-aid patching up Luther, and Diego when he doesn’t want to go to hospital and explain what he’s been doing.
Learns Russian with Grace and pretends she finds comfort in her home language.
She doesn’t play the Violin for three weeks after Reginald fractured her hand, finding her reading a book she shouldn’t have been (she reads the book, eyes wide in wonder as the girl falls for the girl, then in fear as Reginald sighs and says he doesn’t want her reading that book again), she brushes it off when Luther asks and doesn’t meet anyone’s eye.
She plays sooner than she should, and pretends that it doesn’t hurt.
Reginald increases her dosage, two pills every morning. Everything becomes so hazy, she stumbles down the stairs and almost doesn’t recognise Luther when he catches her. Scrapes her food around her plate for weeks, she doesn’t feel hungry, doesn’t feel anything. She goes outside to feel something , in the biting winter wind, collecting stems of lavender she planted so long ago in the greenhouse, sitting underneath Ben’s statue, and doesn’t come in until Luther guides herself inside, fingers frostbitten.
“It’s fine”, she gasps between puking, long hair getting caught in the toilet water, “This has happened before, I’ll get used to it soon”.
She can’t even bring herself to feel hate at the pitying glance Luther gives her.
Klaus sneaks in one night, when she is lying down on one of the living room sofas, staring at the high ceilings through one extended hand. He’s wearing his usual black clothing, jeans ripped through wear, not fashion, and a too small leather jacket that barely wraps around his skinny chest.
“Klaus?” She asks, spotting the shadowy figure that could only be him, (it doesn’t escape her notice he only comes back when Reginald is gone).
“Vanya!” He exclaims, spreading his arms out wide, a too big smile on his face. His goatee is finally growing in but there’s matching stubble around his jaw too. His hands are shaking. “What’re you doing in an establishment such as this?”
Vanya just arches an eyebrow, tucking her long bangs behind her ears and just gestures through the doors, “Kitchen?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Klaus still nods yes and follows her down, while Vanya keeps an eye on his feet to make sure he doesn’t trip.
She ushers him into a seat and turns on the lights, ignoring the exaggerated groan Klaus gives at the sudden change in brightness.
“What is it this time?” She asks gently, making sure that there is no hint of judgement in her voice, going through the motion of making tea- chamomile for herself, ginger and lemon for Klaus- using actual ginger and lemon.
“What on Earth makes you think I’ve taken something, my sweetest, dearest sister o’ mine?” He glances up at her, eyes red rimmed and pupils blown, and he waves the Goodbye Hand off to the side, probably a ghost talking to her.
She places his mug on the marble table in front of him, loudly, and gives him a sharp stare, ruined by her own tired gaze and sweaty forehead.
He waves both hands this time, “Fine, fine , just a bit of mdma! Nothing too bad”, the this time is left unspoken.
They both make their way back to the living room, and they flop down on the same sofa together shoulder’s just touching, hands clamped around chipped mugs.
(Klaus stares down at her and like always wonders, has she always been this small? Sitting down she barely comes up to his shoulder, bony fingers that seem so… fragile.)
When she glances up at him, he finally sees through his blurry gaze the black eye she has. Yellow and purple spread across her cheek and brow bone, it’s nothing any of the siblings haven't seen before, but even now it seems wrong. Worse somehow, they’re practically grownups now, yet here Reginald was, hurting them like they’re children.
“What is it this time?” He throws back her words, lifting a warm hand to trace her eye, dropping it down when she flinches away.
She actually laughs at that, low and short, “Does he ever need a reason? Besides, this is about you. What’s up?”
Now that makes him laugh, full body, taking a few sips of tea when he starts choking. It’s the deadpan delivery, when everybody knows that he’s always in one mess or another. What’s up? The answer is always of the same sort, “Oh you know, drugs, dicks, defamation of my character, a few ghosts screaming”.
She nudged his side, falling onto his shoulder comfortably, “C’mon,” she implored, “You can tell me”.
And like every time Klaus crawls back to the Academy in a haze, he marvels at the fact that he now knows Vanya will be there to keep him standing, or choking on his own tongue, even when he knows he left her to handle the fallout from Ben on her own, taking the blame for some reason. Even when, even if they were closer than she was to some others, they really barely knew each other, nothing more than neighbours in a flat (even normal roommates were closer, he had learned from sitcoms and crashing at friends).
Suddenly he has to know why, why she looks after him like she does, (when he knows his other siblings look at him with judgment, with resigned disappointment, Vanya just holds his hand through the worst of the shakes and takes a hand through his hair when he's throwing up).
So he asks just as much, “Why?” He staring up at the ceiling now, and there's a rolling ball of anxiety in his stomach- he knows it's just part of the comedown but that doesn't make it any less real.
“Why what?” She asks gently, removing the mug from his hands and placing it on the table, slipping a coaster under it, and doing the same to her mug.
“Why this,” he gestures with his both hands at himself, glad the mug is out of his hands, hoping that she understands.
(She does, she really does.)
In reply she brings out a small prescription bottle, rattling in slightly, “It would be like calling the kettle black,” she says, “I've been taking these since I was four, I couldn't exactly pass judgment just because yours aren't prescribed.” She shrugged, settling more comfortable against his shoulder, effectively trapping his arm against his side, “I take one whenever I need one nowadays, it uh, helps. Besides, you’re my brother, and I love you”. The last part is mumbled against his shoulder, the words hiding away like they're shameful.
He supposed in this house they are. Klaus is silent but he holds her tight, hugging her, he can't say it back, he can't say it back. The words are trapped in the back of his throat, wanting to but, he just doesn't have the courage to.
(He wonders how meek little Vanya manages to, how she manages to defy ol’ Reggie in the littlest ways possible.)
They spend the rest of the night sat side by side, with cooling tea next to them as Klaus talks and talks about anything he can, funny stories and his general life- it makes Vanya laugh slightly, lips twitching up on the side in a way he's never really seen before, it makes him proud- and hopes it's enough to disguise the fact that he's nothing more than a coward.
Klaus puts out an endless stream of chatter, and Vanya listens.
(Ben is on the opposite sofa, looking at them softly, thinking that this is good for Klaus. And Vanya, and he’s being ignored but this time for a more favourable activity than drugs.)
Until she starts yawning more often than replying and they go up to bed and Vanya leads him to her new room.
The lanky young (young, so young) lets out a low whistle at the size of the bed- and the sight of the en-suite, “Look at you getting all the upgrades now that the rest of them aren't here,” and Vanya looking for any signs of resent, but there's nothing.
She yawns again, stretching out her arms and sitting down on the tightly drawn sheets, pulling up her hair into a messy knot, “Pogo did it,” she admits, “and… the beds too big for me, I can’t sleep properly in it”.
Klaus can understand why, he's seen her sleeping enough times, (her door being one of the only ones left open when the siblings go to sleep, or… anytime really, (except the obvious times), an open invitation for anyone to come in and talk, he wonders if anybody ever did- he knows they didn't), curled up in the foetal position, or ramrod straight, even in sleep never truly at ease.
He doesn't answer again; but this time, he opens the sheets and slides in, shedding his leather jacket first, in favour of an oversized t-shirt (he’s pretty sure is… Luthers?) he knows she keeps for him, and pats the covers next to him.
That night Vanya sleeps more comfortably than she does on her own, ending up wrapping around Klaus, (he's sure it's more the way he exudes heat), and he squeezes his eyes tight and wonders if this is how his childhood was , maybe he wouldn't be such a mess.
The next day -a Sunday, when Pogo gives them the day off like he usually does when Master Hargreeves isn't in the house, and they spend the day talking and laughing and they paint each other's nails.
Klaus asks what she wants to be when she grows up.
(Pretends that they’re not too old for such silly questions.)
Vanya pauses and says a superhero, Klaus laughs and says he wants to be a lawyer.
(Pretends that what they're saying wasn't both real and both equally unattainable.)
(When I was younger, that's all I wanted to be, Klaus says, a normal boring profession.
Vanya says she can't imagine anything boring about him.)
They pretend that their hands aren't shaking, and that Klaus flinches everytime Vanya’s cold fingers touch his. His black polish ends up shiny and overlapped on his picker cuticles, and hers ends up bright red and on her knuckles, in a way that he knows she’ll have picked off, if her over bitten nails are any indication. They ignore the faults and pretend in that moment that their past has always been like that morning.
The years go by and Klaus doesn't live at the Academy, but he doesn't stay away too much.
(Vanya is his emergency contact, and more than once she leaves the Academy to pick him up, brush him off and care after him with that lack of judgment and resigned indifference that he sees in Diego’s and Luther’s eyes).
Diego comes back occasionally, trusting Vanya to patch him up when Mom is charging, and it's too suspicious to go to the ER, and soon Diego is looking at her with begrudging respect. Luther and Vanya work in tandem around the Academy, keeping the peace with their father and pretending that everything is alright, Luther going on missions and gets sewn back up and gets back up.
Until comes the mission where he doesn't.