CHAPTER THIRTY
tsar bomba

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ON THE WAY to the cabin, Nadine couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of warning in the air, telling the duo to turn the car around and head back the way they came. She'd dismissed it as her own nerves, told herself she was just worried about Vanya. And yet, she still felt it run down her spine during the entire duration of the trip, and when the car pulled up to the cottage in the darkness, the feeling only amplified. DANGER, the cabin seemed to proclaim, written in bold, red, capital letters. GET OUT OF HERE. GO, BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

But it didn't know who it was talking to. Nadine Vidal had always been a rule-breaker, a rebel who sneered at authority. Who was brazen, and wild, and a force to be reckoned with. She'd spat in the face of Death, defied the will of the universe, kept her head high and her hands tucked into fists. She was almost thirty years old, and although there were still times she faltered, stumbled over her own feet, she held strong. Kept her back straight. She never fell without getting back up again.

Back at the hospital, Nadine had thought she was crumbling. Everything that had happened this week had gorged fissures into her skin, her body turning into a mosaic of cracks. But this wasn't a sign she was dissolving back to her old self, at all. The world was ending in two days, and perhaps Nadine had been shedding the old her. Slipping out of it like a coat to make room for the new Nadine Vidal—who wasn't perfect, by any means, but who was gallant, and brave, and who had made it through one of the worst weeks in her life. Who could open her heart, a little, instead of closing it off.

Of course, this revelation didn't take away any of the fear, the foreboding that still accosted her. But it allowed her the courage to slide out of the car. To start to make her way to the Jenkins cottage.

...The Jenkins cottage that was rocking. Nadine drew to a temporary halt, her mouth dropping open. Everything from the chairs to the wind chimes to the lights was swaying, as if it had been caught up in a strong breeze. A strong breeze that had apparently not affected anything else.

"What's happening?" Allison breathed, similarly baffled.

"I don't know," Nadine responded, furrowing her brows. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"We should get closer," Allison suggested, and Nadine nodded, clenching her jaw. Her fists tightened, but she stepped forward nonetheless, and that was when she heard the music.

Violin music. A haunting melody that perfectly set the mood of this eerie night pumped out from the cottage, quiet and mournful. Though it may have been uncanny, Nadine still breathed out a sigh of relief at the sound of it—for there was only one person she knew that played the instrument so beautifully, and that was Vanya Hargreeves. They'd finally found her, finished their seemingly eternal cat and mouse. Nadine quickened her step. Her hair was battered in the wind much like it had been when Five had first arrived, and her skin prickled. For some reason, it felt to her that there was power in the air. A faint, staticky feeling that coursed through her when she used her own abilities, or when she had been around Five's time vortex.

They mounted the steps of the cottage, and Allison immediately called out for her sister. "Vanya? Is that you?"

The two of them arrived at the front door, and Allison tried the knob. Fortunately, it was unlocked, and opened easily. She pushed it open, and, with a little trepidation, the duo walked inside.

Much like the exterior of the cottage, everything inside was rocking, too. The curtains fluttered, the lamps swayed back and forth, the chandelier spun, and there, in the middle of it all, was Vanya, somehow unaffected, playing her violin like nothing was wrong.

"Vanya," Nadine breathed, her pulse quickening. She looked around. She didn't know what was happening, but the staticky thrumming in her veins honed into one source, and that was the woman playing the violin. She stared. Was Vanya somehow the cause of all of this?

"Vanya, there you are," said Allison, relieved. "What is going on?"

She closed the door behind her, and the intense wind stopped as Vanya ceased her violin playing, turning to face her sister and her friend. The electricity in the air halted immediately, and Nadine stepped forward, scrutinizing Vanya, searching for any injuries. There were none visible. She looked just the same as she had when Nadine had last seen her.

"What are you two doing here?" Vanya asked for a moment, looking genuinely surprised at their appearance.

"We came to find you," said Allison. "Are you okay?"

Vanya knitted her brows together in confusion. "Yeah?"

"I called you, like, a million times," said Nadine, doing a quick search around the room to make sure Harold wasn't somehow hiding in the shadows. "You never responded. We were... we were worried."

Vanya's hardness softened for a second at that. "Sorry. I left my cell back at my apartment. I didn't mean to worry you."

Allison decided to twist the subject into the more pressing matter at hand. "There's something... weird going on," she said, stating the obvious. "What's causing it?"

Vanya lifted her chin. "Me."

Someday, perhaps Nadine would learn to stop being so befuddled by everything that befell her, but today was not that day. Even though she'd sensed that the source of the intensity had come from Vanya, it was still an astonishment to hear it said aloud. Because, although she'd been born on October 1st, 1989, to a mother who hadn't been pregnant when the day first began, Vanya Hargreeves had grown up without any special abilities. She'd been excluded from the Umbrella Academy her entire life. Nadine knew as much via her book.

So what the hell was going on?

Her mouth dropped open. "What?"

Allison stepped forward, just as confused. "What do you mean, 'me'?"

"I mean... I made those things happen," Vanya explained. "With my powers. Turns out I've had them all this time." Her face was strangely blank as she stared back at the duo, and now it Nadine's turn to step forward, a strange warmth stirring in her chest. "It's weird, huh?"

"It's amazing," Nadine said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. She knew it was important to get Vanya away from here as soon as possible, but she couldn't help but say it. "It's amazing, Vanya. You're one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met."

Vanya stared back, a smile tugging on the edge of her lips, but then Allison spoke, breaking the moment.

"It's incredible," she said breathlessly. Vanya furrowed her brows slightly, and seemed to spot something in her expression that Nadine didn't.

"But?"

"Ca—Can we do this in the car?" pleaded Allison, snapping Nadine out of her reverie. She looked around again. Harold didn't seem to be here, but it was possible that he could return any second now. She chewed on her lip, glancing back at Vanya. They all had to be gone when that happened.

"Why?" Vanya asked.

Allison breathed out a sigh, steeling herself. "You're not gonna want to hear it."

"Well, that's never stopped you before."

An affronted look crossed Allison's face at that, but she didn't rise to the bait, knowing the importance of convincing Vanya to leave. "Leonard Peabody?" she began. "His real name is Harold Jenkins." At Vanya's silence, she stepped closer. "Remember when Nadine and I couldn't find anything in the library on Leonard? It's because Leonard Peabody doesn't exist. Harold Jenkins does."

"We found a police report on him," Nadine explained. "I have it right—" she reached into her coat, before realizing that she'd left the file in the car. Shit. It would've been good to have proof.

"Vanya," she continued nonetheless, "Harold was... in prison. For twelve years. He killed his father. When he was thirteen."

Vanya was already looking skeptical. "This is... insane," she got out. "His dad was an engineer at the—"

"We have the police report in the car, Vanya," Allison interrupted. "We can show you."

"I don't... I don't understand." Vanya looked from Allison to Nadine, and the former stepped even closer to her sister, her eyes full of desperation.

"Leonard, Harold, I—I know it doesn't make any sense, and I know it sounds crazy, but we were in his house. He has pictures of all of us—of all of the Umbrella Academy, I mean—with our eyes gouged out."

"Wh—What? I—"

"I promise, we will tell you everything in the car, but it is not safe," Allison attempted to grab Vanya's arm, to lead her out of here, but Vanya protested.

"No, stop." She sank down into a chair, her head bent as she attempted to process this whirlwind of information. Nadine knew it was probably difficult to wrap her mind around, and so she knelt beside her, putting a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Vanya," she said quietly. Allison knelt, too.

"Look, um... I can't imagine how hard it is for you to hear this... how you feel right now, but I... I love you, and I—I just... I wanna be here for you, as your sister."

"And I want to be here as your friend," Nadine added. "Please, Vanya."

But Vanya shook her head. "There's just no way." She looked up at them, her eyes sorrowful. "I love him. This just doesn't make any sense." She sniffed, her voice nearly turning to a sob. "And this power, I—I don't know. I don't know what's going on." Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to fall. "I don't know what to do."

Nadine rubbed circles into Vanya's back soothingly. The woman really had a way of bringing the softest parts out in her. "Vanya," she began, voice delicate. "I know. I know what it's like to not control your powers. And I know they can be scary when you don't know what you're doing, but we'll get through this, okay? I promise you, you can do it. I can... I can help you. Like you helped me."

She reached out a hand, bringing the image of a flower alive. Her forehead buzzed, and, in seconds, there was a perfectly rendered rose that appeared to sit in her palm. "Look, see? I know it's hard, Vanya. But I'm here for you. Allison's here for you. The entire Academy is here for you. We won't let you go through this alone."

Vanya wiped her eyes, looking up to meet Nadine's gaze. This close, Nadine noticed that Vanya's eyes were a warm brown, and they were beautiful. Her breath caught, and everything else dropped away. Until all she could see was the cinnamon of Vanya's irises and the slight crease in her brow. She reached out, cupping her cheek, and slid her thumb over the soft skin. Vanya didn't shy away.

But yet again, the moment was broken. This time, it was by the widening of Allison's eyes and the paling of her face. "I understand now," she said quietly. "What happened." She looked up to Vanya, her eyes full of regret, and began her explanation.

Apparently, when they were four years old, their father had told everyone Vanya was sick. Because they were so young, none of them questioned it—even when Vanya was isolated, given special medication. But then, one day, he asked Allison to do something she'd never understood. He'd asked her to rumour Vanya. To make her think she was just ordinary.

As soon as she finished her story, the amity that had previously been present Vanya's eyes faded away to nothingness. Her mouth opened, and she looked to Allison, aghast. "You did this to me?"

Allison looked like she was about to cry. Nadine could see the clear regret written all over her face. "I... I... I didn't realize."

Vanya's expression hardened into anger. "You knew this whole time? That I had powers?" Immediately, she leaped to her feet, gripping her violin and bow and trying to push her way past them. Allison, her eyes filling with tears, followed her, attempting to defend herself. But even Nadine could see that there was really no way Allison could make up for this. She may have been a child when she was made an accomplice, but what she'd done had hurt Vanya for her entire life. It had relegated her to an existence of loneliness, of invisibility, of exclusion. It had split her apart from what could've been a better life with her siblings.

Nadine swallowed. What was she going to do?

"Well, now it all makes sense," Vanya snapped. "This is why you never wanted me around."

"What? No!"

"You couldn't risk me threatening your place in the house, your—your dominance."

"That is not true," Allison pleaded, but Vanya was already talking over her.

"You couldn't handle the fact that Dad might find me special!"

"You are special, Vanya, with or without powers!"

"Don't—Don't say that!" Vanya screamed. Nadine got to her feet, her eyes swivelling from Vanya to Allison like she was watching a tennis match. In seconds, her tender moment with Vanya had turned into yet another sibling argument, and, yet again, she found herself watching from the sidelines.

"We have a chance to start over," Allison begged.

"You destroyed my life!"

"Oh, please, Vanya. Everything is out in the open. We can move on!"

"Guys—" Nadine pleaded, attempting to come in between the two. "We need to stop this."

But Vanya wasn't listening. "Oh, I'm moving on," she snapped, swatting Nadine's outstretched arm away. "But not with you or Nadine, with Leonard."

"With Harold, you mean," Allison corrected.

"With Leonard!" Vanya repeated. "The only person who has ever loved me for me." As she spoke, Nadine could feel the faint crackle of Vanya's power make its way around the cottage, but she didn't back down. She couldn't. Instead, she stepped forward, towards Vanya, her own eyes burning with those wretched tears.

"That's not true," she said. "Vanya... I... I love you. And I loved before I knew you could do this. And I'll love you after." She took a deep breath, her voice shaking slightly. "I... I don't know if this love I'm feeling is platonic or something else, but I care about you, okay? I've cared about you ever since you offered to help me with my powers. But Leonard? I don't know what he cares about, but it's certainly not you. And I know, I know that's hard to hear, but you have to trust me, okay? Please, Vanya. Trust me."

Vanya's chest was heaving now, her face screwed up. Though for a moment, Nadine swore her anger was going to drain away. But then, only seconds later, it was back at full force, and her power with it. "It doesn't matter, Nadine," she choked out, her words a sob. "You weren't... you've never been a part of this. Just..." she shook her head. "Just don't."

Nadine had been shot before, and the aftermath of the bullet piercing through her flesh felt a lot like what ran through her right now. She stepped back, her breathing uneven, and clutched at her chest like a knife had been driven through it. Wind whistled through her hair, the chimes clinked together, but all Nadine could hear was Vanya, Vanya basically telling her she didn't matter to her. At least, not as much as Vanya meant to Nadine.

Unexpectedly, Camille came to her mind again. Nadine hadn't been enough for Camille, either. Or any of her other girlfriends. Or even Louise. The only people she'd ever mattered to were her father, who she'd been a bitch to, and The Umbrella Academy, who she'd grown fond of. But now, hearing Vanya's cutting words, Nadine wondered if she was even enough for them, either.

Vanya had gone back to Allison. Her power whirled around her, and she raised her chin again, eyes blazing. "Look me in the eye and tell me you're not threatened now."

Allison's eyes darted around, and it was obvious that she was intimidated by Vanya's abilities. Rather than lying and saying she wasn't afraid, she merely looked back to her sister and said, "I don't wanna argue with you."

"Then go!" Vanya screamed. Something crashed, and the wind got wilder. Nadine raised her arms, attempting to shield her face.

"I'm only trying to help you," Allison pleaded.

"I don't want your help!"

"Vanya, I love you!"

"Stop saying that!"

Glass smashed in other rooms. Everything shook, harder and harder, the wind battering Nadine's hair so violently it was a struggle to rake it out of her face. Her eyes felt like they were being shoved deep into her skull, and she shrank back a little more, trying to give herself some relief. Meanwhile, Allison was looking to Vanya, her eyes full of both fear and concern. "Are you... Are you okay?"

Vanya's voice rose. "I said go!" she shouted, and that was when the chandelier swinging over their heads shattered, the lightbulbs going out one by one. Nadine jumped at the noise, her heart racing, and Allison let out a shriek before turning back to her sister, who had, in her eyes, suddenly become dangerous.

"Please don't make me do this," she begged, her voice a sob. Nadine's eyes widened as she realized what Allison was about to do, because there was only one thing she could do to extract Vanya from this fit. She started forward, panicked. Although she knew Vanya was overwhelmed, this wasn't the way to fix it.

"Allison. Allison, don't—"

Allison grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Vanya. Nadine writhed, but Allison was stronger than she looked, and Nadine didn't want to hurt her. As she watched, her heart thudding, Allison opened her mouth, and the familiar saying of her power came tumbling out of her mouth. "I heard a rumor..."

Everything slowed down. The bow came in an arc, almost gracefully, cutting through the air. There was a white flash, but for a moment, Nadine thought nothing had happened regardless. But then Allison's grip slackened, and Nadine saw the line carved into her neck.

Blood poured from the wound, dripping down into her top, and Allison choked, her hands immediately going to the laceration. For a moment, Nadine could do nothing but stare, stare at the lesion slashed into her neck, and then a scream tore from her mouth, a great and terrible scream that rattled through the cabin. It was a scream full of anguish, of terror, it was a scream of pain and grief, and it was a scream for Allison Hargreeves, one the woman herself couldn't voice.

Vanya, bloodied violin bow still in hand, immediately lunged forward, realizing what she'd done. "Allison..." she breathed, catching her sister as she continued to grope at her throat. The wound there wept a waterfall of blood, and it kept falling, sliding down Allison's skin. It reminded Nadine too much of her shooting, and of Five, his belly painted crimson. She kept screaming. For once, she didn't know what else to do.

"No! No!" Vanya wailed. Allison staggered, collapsing to the ground, and Vanya went with her. "Allison! Allison!"

There was so much blood. There was so much fucking blood and Allison was choking and Nadine was on her hands and knees now, desperately trying to stem the flow that continued to gush from Allison's neck, pressing hysterically against her slick skin with anguish, her mouth still open in that long, drawn-out scream.

Then the front door burst open. "Vanya, what—" it was Harold's voice. Nadine looked up for a brief moment, taking her eyes off her dying friend to see the murderer stop in his tracks at the sight of Allison on the ground. Vanya was hyperventilating, Nadine was screaming, still pressing her hands against the fissure carved into Allison's skin, and everything seemed to be swaying. Or maybe that was her own imagination.

"I didn't mean to!" Vanya cried, shaking Allison's shoulders desperately as if she could undo what she'd done. Harold, one eye bandaged, stepped forward, and, of all things, a chuckle slipped past his lips as Vanya continued, "I didn't... I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I..."

"You did what you had to," drawled Harold, staring down at the rapidly dying Allison without emotion. And it was this, this emotionlessness in his voice, that finally cut Nadine's screams off, especially when Harold began gathering his things. "Vanya," he pleaded, grabbing her violin case. "Vanya! We have to go!"

"You leave her the fuck alone!" Nadine shouted, spreading out her hands. Maybe she could make a wall or something, dredge up an image that would protect Vanya from this monster. For the first time, she was wishing she had other abilities. Healing or force fields or anything that would keep Allison alive and Vanya safe. But then her eyes went back to her dying friend, and it was like her mind went blank, the gunshot reverberating in her mind again.

"We have to go now!" spat Harold at the wailing Vanya, and Nadine got to her feet, her legs trembling, standing between them. If she couldn't protect Vanya with her powers, then she might as well use the combat she'd been learning for over a decade.

"She's not going anywhere with you, you fucker," she growled, her voice like thunder. "Get the fuck away from her."

Harold, whose eyes had been desperately flicking to Vanya, finally rested on Nadine's face. He shook his head, releasing another chuckle. For a moment, he seemed eerily, terrifying calm, a stark contrast to the bloody situation at hand. Then, he spoke. "I always knew you'd be trouble."

Then his fist was flying right towards her. But it was a sloppy punch, and Nadine managed to duck underneath the blow, a snarl tearing loose from her lips. She struck out, an open-palmed blow that caused Harold to jerk back, hands cupped over his nose—which had already been bloodied, likely from the incident that had occurred at the tavern. He growled, and then there was the glint of metal in his hand, a knife, and he was thrusting it towards her.

Nadine grabbed his wrist, stopping the knife inches away from her face, and squeezed, hard enough that his fist automatically opened and the weapon clattered to the ground. "Stay away," she repeated, her hands bloodied, her face streaked with tears. She wasn't going to let him get Vanya. Powers or not.

But then Harold drew out the gun, and everything slowed down.

No. No, no, no.

He didn't shoot. Instead, taking note of the rigidness that had overcome Nadine's whole body, he instead broke free of her grip and seized her by the shoulders. Before Nadine could even think to move, he slammed her against the wall. Her head thudded against it with a sickening crack, and stars exploded in her vision. He slammed her a second time, and a third, and Nadine could feel blood running down her hair, could feel a dull pain reverberating up her skull. Then, Harold was letting go over her, and, unable to keep her balance, Nadine slumped, falling towards the ground. For a moment, with this sheer agony erupting in her hair and her vision spotting, she felt like she was flying.

In reality, she was falling.

Nadine Vidal crashed to the ground, her head pounding against the floor, and a slow-spreading stain of blood (from her? From Allison?) dyed her hair red. Darkness spread across her vision, blackening her surroundings and senses one by one, like stars winking out. Much like her shooting, there was then absolute nothingness. A deep, dreamless sleep.

Her hands were stained with blood.

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HAVEN: it's finally here :) probably one of my favourite chapters in this book (along with chapter twelve: the butterfly effect... i wonder what that says about me) and also the one i think i've rewritten the most. i had a bunch of different ways i ended it before, but i finally settled on this version... i hope you don't hate me too much for it :))

also, before i go and hide behind my barricade to protect myself from the commenters, i'd like to address the elephant in the room, and that's nadine's confession to vanya. i want it to make it explicitly clear that nadine is still figuring out her feelings for vanya. obviously, she's realized she has a crush on her, but she hasn't really known her long enough to have that crush turn into something more fully-fledged. when she told vanya she loved her, i tried to make it clear that it was more of a caring love, and that she's not completely in love with her yet. so i hope i did that okay. 

thanks for reading :)))