CHAPTER TWO
clap when you land

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SINCE SHE WAS thirteen, a hot spring instead of a volcano, a spark instead of a wildfire, Nadine Vidal had been obsessed with the Umbrella Academy. It'd been easy to determine the cause of the instant connection between the girl and the teen superheroes on screen—they were all deemed impossible. Nadine was impossible from the first time she'd made that spider appear on her teacher's head, and all of these kids were impossible every time they threw a knife with inhuman accuracy or loosed a monster from their stomachs. For the first time in her life, Nadine had found people like her, which made it hard for her to be torn away from the screen in a middle of an interview or a live broadcast of a crime scene. It was only a matter of time before she built up a considerable collection of paraphernalia papering her walls and shelves.

"They're like me," she'd tell her father, who'd often take a break from work to sit next to her and watch whatever rerun she'd have playing. "I didn't know there was anyone else like me."

Beau had to admit he hadn't thought there was, either. When he'd been blessed with his miracle girl thirteen years ago, thinking she was some kind of blessing from God, he'd thought it'd been him and him alone. Even when Nadine started demonstrating her bizarre capabilities, he thought it was a fluke. An error in the program, something that wasn't supposed to be there. But now, sitting here and watching kids Nadine's age teleport or control people's minds, he realized he'd been sorely mistaken.

Somehow, Hargreeves had known. He'd told them that Nadine would grow up to be extraordinary, and he'd gotten it right on the nose; Nadine was extraordinary. And she was also dangerous. And she needed to be protected. Which was why Beau never regretted his decision to keep his daughter instead of selling her off to be paraded around like a circus animal. As he watched the superhero siblings on screen, foiling robberies and bomb threats, he often thought that they were like donkeys. Nudged forward by a carrot on a stick. They looked happy, but were they really? Beau didn't know what went on behind the screen.

Nadine didn't care, though. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She often thought of the Umbrella Academy as some kind of sanctuary, much like the one she formed on her ceiling. Except this one would be real. This one wouldn't dissolve when she told it to.

Which made it all the more special. And all the more impossible for her to comprehend.

Nadine was thinking of this obsession now as she sat on the plane. The flight was nearly eleven hours, allowing for plenty of time to think of what to say when she came and knocked at the Academy's doors. As she stared out the window, watching the sky, blue as a robin's egg, and the fat clusters of clouds that sat below her, she wondered which of her heroes would be the one to open the door. Would it be the durable Luther, or the knife-toting Diego? What if it was the celebrity Allison or the apparently drug-addict Klaus? Or perhaps it might not be any of the siblings at all; maybe the door would be opened by Pogo, the manufactured chimpanzee that had gained human intelligence, or Grace, the robot Hargreeves had built to act like the superheroes' mother.

She'd certainly done her research. She'd reread Vanya Hargreeves' book (what if she opened the door? The girl who, according to her autobiography, had been cast away by the others?) two times, flipped through the several comics that had been made depicting the team's adventures, watched interviews and a video on YouTube titled Umbrella Academy: Where Are They Now? She'd even found a movie with Allison in it as an option to watch on the television at her seat.

It had been easy to book this impromptu trip. Beau had been thrilled with the prospect of her finally meeting the team she'd spent most of her teen years drooling over, although a little nervous about the fact that she'd be meeting them during their father's funeral, and had lent her money to book her ticket to America. She'd said goodbye to him (and Henri) and immediately headed to the closest airport. She didn't even tell Camille or Louise she was leaving.

Nadine did realize she'd have to be speaking English the entire trip, though this was no big worry of her. She'd grown up learning the language both at home and at school, and although there'd surely be a few words she stumbled over, she was pretty confident in her fluency. She'd aced all of her English exams back in school—why would she fail now?

The plane seemed to be going through a little turbulence now, and Nadine rattled in her seat. She curled her legs closer to her and retrained her gaze out the window, trying to control her breathing, which had suddenly hitched in her chest. She'd never been good in tight, confined spaces, and this uncomfortable plane ride certainly wasn't roomy.

The urge to create another Sanctuary flickered across her mind, but she quickly shoved that idea away. Even though she could make it so nobody saw it but her, there was always the possibility of messing up and letting someone into her fantasy-made-reality. And, given that would form awkward, unanswerable questions, Nadine refrained.

The speakers on the ceiling of the plane crackled, and the Captain announced that the plane was (finally) starting its descent. Nadine stretched out her legs, jiggling them slightly to bring feeling back into them, and breathed a sigh of relief. Soon she'd be off this flying death trap, and when she got back on solid ground she was sure to feel better. Even though she knew she'd be closer to the Umbrella Academy when she stepped onto American soil.

To preoccupy her hands, which were trembling slightly, Nadine twisted her golden hair into a bun, tucking it under a baseball cap. If she wanted to be in America, she reasoned, she might as well look the part.

Her ears popped as the plane finally glided onto the runway, and there was a minute of rolling before it finally slowed to the stop. Nadine trained her gaze outside the window. All around her she saw leafy green trees and tall buildings that stretched into the heavens. She was here.

RAIN PATTERED AT the windows by the time Nadine slid into the cab. Her hair was damp, and her socks had nearly succumbed to the wrath of a particularly large puddle on the way here. As she slid into the car, she folded up her umbrella (clear, with a school of fish patterned on it—a gift from her father, who knew her love of aquatic life) and shook rainwater out of her hair.

"Take me to the Umbrella Academy, please," she instructed, testing out her American accent. It was pretty shit, so she quickly decided to stop that. She could feel her pulse thudding in her ears and her vision going a little spotty now, and clasped her sweaty hands in her lap before the driver could see how much they were shaking. Her breath came erratic and uneven, and, just like on the plane, the impulse to create the illusion of safety came pinging into her mind like an abrupt text message. This time, though, she didn't swipe the thought away. Instead she indulged it.

As the cab driver pulled onto the busy street, Nadine spread out her fingers, evening her breaths as she concentrated on the windshield of the car. Using her umbrella as inspiration, Nadine pictured an underwater coral reef, beautiful stalks of the undersea plants jutting out of the sandy bottom, schools of colourful, tropical fish swimming by, along with the occasional eel or shark, seaweed waving in the currents. When she opened her eyes, the scene was painted across the windshield.

Her need for what she referred to as Sanctuaries—illusions she created solely for herself that provided a temporary (and totally fake) refuge from the outside world—had stemmed from the Incident at age eighteen. Nadine dreamed about it a lot—the suits, the blood, the guns, the desperation and fear that had rocked her world—and sometimes completely lost control of reality. When her panic attacks happened, it was like she was back there, eighteen again and totally naïve, inches away from meeting her maker.

The Incident was why she'd started taking self-defense classes. Learning to fight not only prepared her for the possibility of something happened again, but also grounded her. When she was pounding at a punching bag or blocking a swift attack, she wasn't thinking about that night, or the humming in her forehead. It was just her and whatever obstacle was in front of her, and that was just the way she liked it.

The panic welling inside her now had nothing to do with that night, however. It was a panic of anticipation, because she was going to meet the Umbrella Academy. Her brain had already run through every worst case scenario that could befall her (along with every best, including the one where she became friends with Allison Hargreeves, the actress she'd had a crush on since she was twenty) and now it was just jittery with anticipation. She'd come this far. She'd left home. Left her continent. She'd gone on a plane for nearly eleven hours. She'd found a motel and already laid her things out (the one good thing about living in a hotel was the fact that motels never felt uncomfortable to her). She'd done all of this just for the chance to meet her childhood heroes. And now she was getting close.

The cab rolled across a speed bump, jolting Nadine back into reality. She inhaled slowly. Exhaled. Told herself everything would be fine, even though she had absolutely no idea what would go down at the Academy. Which was a good thing. If Nadine Vidal had known what would transpire over the next week, she'd be halfway through a flight back to France by now.

A clownfish wriggled itself inches away from her face, and Nadine let herself smile, watching the creature release bubbles every time it opened its mouth. It was therapeutic for her, and helped calm her racing heart as she got nearer. She thought that maybe, if she'd decided not to work at La Petite Montagne, she would've been an Ichthyologist. Well, that was still possible. If the whole hotel thing failed, she could possibly become a fish researcher.

"Alright, we're here," the cabbie said after a couple minutes that were filled with Nadine watching the schools of fish swim in loops. Sure enough, the car had come to a halt, and there, in front of her, was the famous Umbrella Academy, looming before her all of its glory.

"Thank you," Nadine said. She hoped her voice wasn't quivering all that much. God. She really was regressing to the age of thirteen.

She paid the cab driver, surreptitiously unraveling the illusion she'd painted across his windshield as he did so, a headache almost immediately forming in her temples afterward. Then, unfolding her umbrella, Nadine Vidal stepped out of the car and onto the front steps of the Academy. Her palms had gone back to sweating—never a good sign—and she thought she might faint. She briefly considered running back to her shitty motel room and diving under the covers, but she steeled herself. She'd come too far now. Running would be a coward's move.

Before the Incident, even with her constant need to get into fights, bravery had never been Nadine's strong suit. At school, she'd almost never raise her hand, and presentations were complete nightmares. She couldn't stand heights—she'd burst into tears when she and her family had gone to the Eiffel Tower when she was eleven, and Beau had to take her home early—and her intense claustrophobia made traveling a nightmare, anyway. In fact, until the Incident, Nadine was more likely to say no to things than say yes.

Then she'd been shot, and decided to reevaluate her life choices. She realized that she wasn't the superhero she'd always dreamed she would be, she was the civilian who needed saving. Constantly running, constantly hiding, never doing anything for herself. It had been plain dumb luck that she hadn't died, and that was a problem. She couldn't rely on a prince to rescue her from this tower, she had to rescue herself.

Which was why she'd turned a new leaf. Saying yes to things she normally wouldn't. And although her fear still nearly paralyzed her, she knew that courage wasn't the absence of it. It was going on despite it, and that was crucial.

But standing here, steps away from meeting the remaining members of the Umbrella Academy (Ben Hargreeves was dead—killed at the age of seventeen—and Five was missing), Nadine felt her old doubt fill her again. But instead of letting it consume her, she shrugged it off as she would her coat, and walked up the stairs. Another thirty seconds of deliberation, and she was finally knocking on the door.

There was a twenty second interval between Nadine's knock and the door opening where she feared she'd come here for nothing, but then it was pulled open and she was face-to-face with the legendary Pogo, the Umbrella Academy's... surrogate father? Butler? Whatever Pogo was, he was almost alarming to see in person, and Nadine took a half step back, feeling like her heart had just launched itself into space. Suddenly, this all became real. And real was terrifying.

Pogo was dressed like he was about to go for tea and crumpets in London. A pair of tiny spectacles (what kind of eye doctor had he gone to) sat on his nose, and he wore a dark brown jacket paired with a tie. His fur had long since faded to grey, although the ears that stuck out from the side of his head were still pink. He was much shorter than Nadine, and as he craned his head up to meet her gaze, she found herself clenching her fists together reflexively.

"Hello?" the chimpanzee asked in a British accent (so Nadine had been right about the tea and crumpets thing). "I'm sorry, we're not interested it whatever it is you are selling."

"Oh, no, I'm not selling anything," Nadine said quickly. "I don't mean to intrude, I just..." she took a deep breath. In, and then out. And then she held out her hand. "My name is Nadine Vidal, and I was born on the first of October, nineteen-eighty-nine in Dijon, France. I have been told that Reginald Hargreeves was interested in me when I was born, but my parents refused to give me to him. And I know he was interested in me because I have certain... abilities that seemed to have caught his eye."

For a moment, all Pogo did was stare at her, blinking behind those spectacles of his. And then he opened the door wider. "Perhaps you should come in."

Nadine stepped into the front hallway of the Academy, pulling off her baseball cap as she did so, and immediately looked around in awe. It was a beautiful place, with a number of expensive trinkets, weapons, and paintings neatly arranged in the interior. If Nadine could describe the slightly dusty smell to the air, she would've said the Umbrella Academy smelled like the interior of a museum.

She found herself looking around for far longer than what probably would've been considered appropriate, but she couldn't help it. This was the Umbrella Academy! She'd only seen snippets of the interior in interviews years ago—Hargreeves was, apparently, quite the isolated man—and now here she was, getting a full view of the inside. Fourteen-year-old Nadine was jumping for joy right about now.

After a moment, Pogo coughed. "The Hargreeves children are in the living room," he said. "They're in the midst of planning their father's funeral, but I'm sure they'll be open to whatever it is you'd like to tell them." Then he straightened up. "Forgive me for asking, but what is it that you are able to do?"

Nadine spread out her fingers, summoning an image of a butterfly to mind. The winged beauties were easy for her to work with, and she could almost do it without dwelling on the small details. It only took moments before a blue and purple butterfly—one only Pogo and she could see—was flapping its way over to the chimpanzee, landing softly on his outstretched finger.

Pogo examined the lifelike creature. "Fascinating," he murmured. "Is it... is it real?"

Nadine waved her hand, and the butterfly dispersed into smoke. Her head buzzed. "No, it's just an illusion. But I can do bigger than butterflies if I really try." She looked around at this beautiful house—the house she'd always dreamed of living in as a child, working among the others as a superhero team—and felt a grin slide onto her face. "If I really tried, I think I could make this house look like it's collapsed. Or I could make it a recreation of the hotel I work in."

"That is... extraordinary," said Pogo. "I'm sure the children will be interested in meeting you. Come, they're right this way."

Nadine was happy to oblige. Her head may have been pounding, and her heart still felt like it was on a treadmill, but she was steps away from meeting more influential figures. Finally, everything in her life was clicking into place.

Finally, she was going to meet people like her. And maybe then, she wouldn't feel so alone.      

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HAVEN: not hemingway absolutely roasting this chapter 😔 "25 of 199 sentences are very hard to read" headass 😔😔😔 it kinda hurts ngl 😪

sorry  for the filler chapter, but the next one we're actually getting into the plot! nadine is going to meet the hargreeves, who definitely aren't going to be what she expected 🙈🙈 

anyway, i'd just like to put out a disclaimer here that i don't always condone the actions of my characters. nadine can be an asshole sometimes (and she's already tactless for literally INTRUDING ON A FUNERAL) and although sometimes she gets called out, sometimes she doesn't. part of her character development is learning to be a nicer person tbh, so don't expect a saint who never does anything wrong.

thank you for reading <3