umbrellajackassery | open thread: come at her, fam! set during the start of the series

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open thread: come at her, fam! set during the start of the series

So. That was it. The Old Man was dead. She'd known something had happened. She'd been uneasy for most of the day at home, but didn't have her phone with her to hear the news. She never did when she was working on projects. She kept the TV off, she kept her music to something from iTunes. It was a total social media blackout for her as she worked on Captain Marvel's costume, all the way in her apartment in Ohio.

When she did step out of her room to get food, she'd noticed several dozen messages from Klaus. From Vanya. From everyone. Even Pogo and Mom had called and that was when Charlie understood how she'd felt all day. It had been a weird sense of detachment, an odd sense of...she didn't want to call it relief, but that's what it felt like, and several varying degrees of 'oh, shit', but none of it was hers.

But now she understood. Now, she got it. Dad was gone and even from all the way in Ohio, Charlie picked up on her siblings emotions.

It was just a matter of throwing stuff in a bag, making sure she had money for gas and tolls, and telling her roommates what was going on and then she left.

Drove for hours. Stopped for coffee and food, but kept driving. It's now noon, a day later, and Charlie's standing in the foyer of the house. Listening. Shutting her empathy down as best as she can. Finally, after a few minutes, she calls out.

"Anyone home?"

Cuz if not, she can book a hotel somewhere. She doesn't have to stay here.

Boy, she doesn't even want to stay here.

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That "relief" she kept feeling off and on all day was definitely actual relief, and now that she's on the grounds of their childhood home and within 'smack you in the face with my feelings' range, it should be very obvious that feeling belonged to Klaus.

Especially when he sauntered down the stairs when he heard her calling out. "If it isn't my favorite firebug in the universe!" His arms are already stretched out, like he's reaching for her, and when she's in the proper range, Charlie will find herself wrapped up in a way-too-bony hug. "I take it you finally heard the news?" He asks as he pulls away, eyes bright, voice practically bubbling with excitement.

This is the exact opposite reaction a person would expect at the death of one's father, but then the Hargreeves children all have very specific reasons to feel otherwise at the passing of their not-so-beloved adoptive father.

Having that singular emotion to focus on was a sort of freedom for Charlie. It was like a lifeline, giving her something to hold onto with all of her mental abilities, and she wasn't at all surprised to find Klaus at the end of said emotional tether. So, it's a well-known source. It's a familiar face.

And it's a moment before Charlie hugs in return. She's still getting her bearings, but Klaus is hugged tightly.

"I did. Sorry I wasn't answering all twenty-seven of your text messages and all fifteen of your calls. I was working."

Does it matter what she was working on?

And she isn't quite as delighted as Klaus is, but there's a small smile on her face. Reginald Hargreeves was the biggest asshole in their life, and it was definitely new to not have his bullshit hanging over their heads.

"It's okay, it's fine. You're here now." He says, finally carefully untangling himself from her. "So now," he steps back and wanders through the house to the bar. "you can join the celebration." He's pouring champagne into two flutes and offers one to her.

He knows Charlie may not feel quite as right about being elated to the level Klaus is, but it's okay; he won't begrudge her that, he'll just be happy enough for all of his siblings at once.

The flight had been hours long and Allison still hadn’t fully processed the news of Reginald’s death. It wasn’t that he was so hard to let go of, but that it was hard to believe a man as stubborn and difficult as him would ever let go of this plane of existence. Such as it was, though, the moment she landed and took her phone off of airplane mode it exploded with texts from her siblings. That was all of the confirmation she needed that the old man was dead. If they had accepted it, she might as well accept it, too.

She had packed unusually light for a Hollywood starlet – one carry-on bag trailing on wheels behind her as she opened the door to her old stomping grounds and made her way inside. Judging by the eerie stillness hanging in the air and the resounding silence, she must have been one of the first ones to arrive. Allison immediately made her way upstairs to her old room without so much as seeking anyone out. If they were there, she would find them eventually. What she needed was a moment to find herself and acclimate to the past.

Sitting down at her vanity, Allison felt like she was taking a step back in time. Decades, even. Looking at her reflection was almost a shock – to see an adult woman instead of a child looking back at her. After all, didn’t her younger self belong in this setting? She sighed, sifting through her belongings, smiling at a couple of the items.

Then she heard the voice, her sister’s voice, and slowly rose from the little bench in front of her vanity. Taking slow steps, she made her way down the staircase. Midway down, she called out.

“Charlie?”

Charlie was ready to grab her stuff and go to the nearest Motel Six or Red Roof Inn. Whichever. It didn't matter. The house was too empty for her liking, or maybe it was too full of memories that she wanted desperately to ignore. Like being hooked up to diodes and whatever else and told to focus her abilities on something in a specially designed room. She was pretty insulted when dad put woodchips in front of her and told her to torch it. He should have given her something harder.

But...Allison spoke and Charlie stopped reaching for the small suitcase that contained her handful of clothes. Looking up at the staircase, she shot her sister a small and cautious smile. She was, after all, still adapting to this house and the emotions in it.

"Allison. You're here." That's a Godsend, even if people haven't seen each other in a while. Seeing her sister in the news and movies didn't count, just like she'd say her sister watching her play video games and make amazing cosplay attire on YouTube doesn't count, either. This was better, face-to-face and in person. This was what Charlie preferred, so long as emotions weren't running high.

"How've you been?"

Allison smiled and took quick steps toward Charlie to pull the younger sister in for a hug. The Hargreeves weren’t an overaffectionate lot, but Allison liked her hugs when they were appropriate. It lasted maybe a couple of seconds and she let Charlie go, just smiling at her.

“Me? I’m doing alright.” It was a lie and Allison knew that Charlie knew it. She hadn’t been handling her disaster of a personal life very well at all.

“How’s the most creative person I know doing?” Her mouth shaped into a grin as she quickly shifted the topic away from herself. Charlie was one of the siblings she was proudest of. After she had stepped away from Reginald, she had really made something of herself. That wasn’t to say she felt negatively about the siblings who weren’t stunningly creative and incredibly talented with a needle and thread.

Edited 2019-03-19 02:35 (UTC)

Charlie hugs Allison in return, smiling at her older sister for a brief moment before glancing up at one of the many family portraits of them. She's not really expressing much, facially speaking. She's keeping her emotions to herself, which is probably not the best sign for a girl who usually wears her heart on her sleeve and wants the whole world to know how she's feeling, one way or another.

"I'm okay. Working on a Captain Marvel costume for a contest in San Diego a couple months from now. The usual."

Turning to face Allison, she shoots her sister the best and most honest grin she has.

"How about you? Any exciting movies coming up that you probably signed papers for saying you won't talk about them?"

Give her all the dirt, sis. All of it.

Five has finally found some clothes to wear that fit him, even if all of them were the much dreaded and ridiculous academy uniform. Glass eye in his pocket and ready to go, he's half way out of the window when he hears a woman's voice.

Narrowing his eyes, he considers that the hitman of the Commission don't just walk into houses and ask who is there before they go for the kill. And so, Five teleports to the top of the stairs.

"Who are you?"

One of the downsides to Charlie keeping her empathic ability in check is she gets easily distracted, as her father liked to rudely point out. She just called it hyper focused. So when the small kid answers the door, it’s about mid sentence that it hits her who he is. Along with all of the emotions currently in the house.

“Charlie Hargreeves, who the fuck—- Five?!” All of the emotions she’s suddenly picking up from others along with her own shock is disorienting, causing her to wobble just a bit. But she recovers quickly, staring at the kid she knew from way back when, alarmed that he’s still small.

“Where the hell have you been?!” A genuinely angry, genuinely shocked and genuinely concerned reaction from the girl, a faint trace of sparks appearing and disappearing around her fingers but they’re gone in seconds. The fire she can control a lot better than people’s feelings. That, she has a handle on.

“Please tell me you’re very real and I didn’t get in a car accident and die on the interstate.”

Five narrows his eyes with a face that screams ' I am familiar with that sort of overreaction and screaming even though it's been literal decades since I've heard it'. He also looks totally unconcerned about the sparks even though he had have expected her to have it under control already after so long.

"Some things never change, uh?" He says, the cryptic bastard, and his whole stand relaxes. Hands now in his pockets, Five walks down the stair to stand in front of his very agitated sister.

"In the future. Turns out that coming back is much harder than getting there. We both missed Dad's funeral. And if you had a car accident you'd be talking to Klaus, not me."

"In the f---..." Lord Jesus whoever is in charge of their lives needs to not do dumb shit like this to them. "You time-traveled."

And she's not even going to ask about getting back. Charlie knows he can tap out of his abilities if he uses them too much, and time-travel was a whole new experience for him. She remembers all too well the argument Five had with dad and how Five had done his own thing.

It was probably one of the rare times Charlie agreed with Reginald, but Five should have waited and trained just with spacial jumping for a while first. Time-travel, it seems, is a screwy bastard.

"See, but that only works if I decide to stick around after I die. I wouldn't have. I'd have wanted to move on. And hope that I run into family."

Missed dads funeral, huh? That? That gets a shrug. Charlie doesn't particularly care that she missed it. Reginald Hargreeves was an asshole of the Highest Order. She couldn't read his emotions because they were never close, but everyone else?

Klaus may no longer be in the room, but she can feel how giddy he is from where she stands. So, that's something.

"Obviously."

Time travel he did. Getting back, well...he hated that his dad has been right about him not being ready. Sometimes the old man did have a point. And God, how irritating was that?

"You can't know for sure. Sometimes people have unfinished business." Five's not particularly inclined to talk more about death, he's seen far too much.

None of them are too upset that the old man is gone, maybe just Luther, and Five's own feelings are rather neutral. As kids, he might have tried to avoid Charlie on occasion because his sister's ability to know how he really was feeling felt like a weakness on his part. It's been years and he has forgotten why he felt that way, so she might be able to sense that Five's nowhere near as nonchalant as he looks, there's anxiety in him mixed with the relief at seeing her alive.

"I think the others are in their room, if you want to check on them."

"I hope I don't. Klaus has dealt with enough ghosts, I think I'll do my best to pass." A pause and then a shrug as she looks at Five again, smiling softly. "My roommate in Ohio has the same abilities Klaus does. Maybe I'll harass him after I die? And, no. He's not one of the 43. I asked."

She had to be sure. She stands for a moment, looking up at Dad's portrait and letting herself sense how Five was feeling. She was glad he was alive, too. Relieved, just as much as he was. But the anxiety was something she couldn't figure out. There's this need to ask that she ignores for now, just adjusting to the idea that Five was right there, just as she remembered him.

"I'm kinda hungry, actually." She is always hungry. Her metabolism burns like her fires, quick, always looking for fuel. The fire, however? Easier to control.

"What's the future like?"

"How did he get those powers?" The new information has Five's eyebrows furrowing together. Someone with powers but not one of them. Whatever 'them' ever meant, no one ever figured that one out and if their father knew, he kept it to himself.

"Stop that." Now that they're together, memories of their younger days are easier to recall and Five studies her posture. A second later, he's walking around the living room and putting some distance between the two, as if that might help to shield his emotions from her.

"The future is shit, that's why I am here." He doesn't say more than that but turns towards the kitchen, expecting her to follow. They might as well eat something if they're going to have this conversation and he wants coffee.

He's lying on the couch, staring up at the old man and contemplating using the massive portrait as target practice when he hears a voice he hasn't heard in years. He sits up, looking over the back o the couch towards the foyer before getting to his feet.

He's still decked out in his tactical gear, mask tucked neatly into one of it's many pickets. He moves to the doorway and leans against it crossing his arms and studying the woman in front of him. "Well, well. Look who's come home."

"Diego, hey," Charlie replies, smiling just a bit. She was usually more open with her emotions, happy to share them, set on letting the world know how she felt. But this whole...thing with their dad passing away and everyone reuniting had made her feel very uncomfortable.

While a familiar face was a familiar face, the comment about coming home kind of made her frown. She ran away, after a fashion, at the first chance she had. A good art school accepted her, so she packed her sewing machine and supplies up and was gone. She came back when Ben died, she came back when Allison got married, but after that? Not so much.

"It's good to see you." As uncertain as she feels, she can at least say that much with certainty. "Circumstances aside, I mean."

"Yeah, who knew all the old man had to do was die to get us all back in one place?"

It's good to see her too. It's been... years. Under different circumstances he might be a little more welcoming but the last few days he's been tense. Wound up. He'd honestly thought the old man was immortal, knowing he's gone is both a relief and unnatural.

Still, as far as siblings go, Charlie's not the worst of them. "You drive all this way?"

She'd be glad to know she wasn't the worst of them. At his question, she sighs and nods.

"All night. Soon as I finally got everyone's messages." She probably should have stopped at a hotel to get some rest, or waited until morning, but she wanted desperately to get to her family and make sure everyone was okay. A death in the family, even someone as unpleasant as Reginald, was still important.

"Who all is home so far?"

All of them. [ Except for Five and Ben. But then again, he wasn't really expecting Five to suddenly reappear just cause the old man kicked it. And Ben, well that was a different story, wasn't it. ] And now you.

[ As tightly wound as he is at all of this and seeing the others again, Charlie's never crossed his path. He tries to force himself to relax, softening his tone the slightest bit. ]

If you're hungry mom made some food. It's in the fridge.

Mom made food and it's still in the fridge? And everyone is home?

[ Diego, that sounds like bullshit. Charlie's amused, though. She reaches for her bag again, this time using telekinesis to pull her bag to her hand. ]

I get dibs on waffles, if there are any. So, dude. What's going on with you? Anything fun to tell me?

[ He watches the bag hop into her hand. He hasn't missed that, though it came in handy more time than once. He's got a telekinesis of his own, except it only works on his knives and where he wants them to go. ]

Klaus is here. You know there aren't any.

[ He gestures for her to follow him downstairs to the kitchen.]

Same old, same old. Doing what I can to help the city.

"You came back..." There's no slipping out quite that easily, not yet at least. Luther's mood-- it's certainly been better. He's sure everyone's has, and he has no doubt she's probably picked up on it by now.

Still, he takes a few steps towards her, tilting his head as his eyes give Charlie a quick once-over, takes her in. "Did you finally check your phone?"

“You’re no longer on the moon,” Charlie notes, smiling softly at her brother as she sets her bag back down. She wasn’t going to leave. Not now that she knows her family is going to be here. She can manage this bad trip down memory lane with a few of them. Mentioning her missing phone calls has her cringe slightly, raking her hand through her hair with an apologetic glance.

“I had a project. A Captain Marvel costume. You know me when I have a goal in mind, or a deadline.” She shuts the whole world out, gets hyper focused. It takes some effort to get her out of work mode.

“Compared to Klaus, you’re in second place for most phone calls.” As much as she wants to joke and ease the heaviness of the situation, she can’t. Looking up at one of their earliest family portraits, one with her in full Umbrella Academy attire and a ball of fire in her hand as she smirks, Charlie’s face hardens some into a look of acceptance.

“He’s really gone, isn’t he? That’s just...weird to think about.” Not sad. Never sad. Reginald once had a very large rat that lived behind Holey Moley Donuts (a place that comes in dead last on a list of donut places Charlie likes on account of how skeevy the Place always felt) names after him by Klaus and Charlie, if that is any indication on how she felt about dad.

"I couldn't be away, not during this." Especially when he's still a bit suspicious about it all... more than a bit, if he's honest.

Still, he manages a softer expression and a nod at her explanation. "I know. I'm... glad you managed to make it though."

Even if he wishes something a bit better had brought them back together than a death. It's just not his idea of the most ideal situation. He lets out a sigh, eyes slowly following hers to the portrait.

"He's gone... and it feels like there has to be more to it than that." This was all too easy, too simple. It's suspicious for multiple reasons.

"Me, either." Charlie didn't like Reginald all too much. He was harsh and cold and she hated him for all of his 'training'. Stuffing Klaus in mausoleums was one of the main issues she had with this man.

What Luther says has her turning to look at him in curiosity, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"More to it how?"

"I think this is... just too easy. Don't you?" And he has his reasons for thinking otherwise, but he's not entirely sure he should share them, not yet.

He lets out a breath, a quick sigh, before he shakes his head. No, it's probably definitely not a good idea to get into when Charlie has just walked in the door. "We'll talk about it later. Did you already get settled in? Your room should be about the same as you left it."

"What's hard about it? Dad died. The end." CHarlie doesn't have her suspicions, but she can pick them up coming from Luther. She watches him a moment, frowning just slightly and focuses on shutting those emotions out long enough for her to think.

"What's worrying you about this?" He may not want to talk about it right now, and she'll respect that if he pushes for talking later, but he's her brother. She cares, so she's going to ask.

"You mean my room is still a disaster of unfinished projects and fabric scraps everywhere?" she asks, smiling some. She was never really the neatest child when it came to her hobbies, but it was organized chaos to her. She knew where stuff was and hated it when people moved things while she was working on them. She's had to ask mom to just leave her room as is, unless it became a safety hazard. And thankfully, mom listened.

"Is it? The end, I mean." Because it doesn't feel like it at all. There are too many questions still... stuff that doesn't add up

"I'll tell you later. It might be better when everyone's around." They can discuss it as a family, maybe. Or at least maybe he'll be able to make a better case later.

Right now, everything's so-- fresh. And Charlie just arrived. He lets out a breath and gives a wry smile. "Exactly. Mom never touched it."

"I'd like to hope so, but if you think otherwise, I'd love to hear it." She trusts Luther. If he has a suspicion or a concern about something, she wants to know what it is. But he did say later, so...later.

"That's good. I'm probably going to find a million unfinished projects in there." She tended to flit from sewing project to sewing project when problems occurred and she needed to step away from the issue to see the solution.

"I think I owe you a jacket." She could be wrong.

He manages a smile at that, something grateful and appreciative that she isn't calling him an idiot off the bat. He isn't sure he'd get that reaction from all of his siblings.

"Try not to lose yourself in finishing them." He flashes a wry smile. They'd all like to see her once in a while after all.

"I wouldn't say no to that... but I think I've gotten bigger." And he's not sure he's ready to show what's underneath the jacket.

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open thread: come at her, fam! set during the start of the series

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