𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ─ remembering,

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The Hargreeves siblings all gathered together in the much too formal lounge shortly after the tense encounter with Luther, Emelia and Klaus (not that the others knew that of course). The tension between number one and number eight was suffocating in the large room because as Klaus had lead Emelia away, Luther had stopped the two and demanded that his brother drop whatever he'd taken. Klaus emptied his pockets - throwing down valuable items left, right and centre. Emelia could tell that he had kept something because the left side of his fancy coat was bulkier than the right and despite his 'poker face', she could see the small hints of a winning smile playing at the corners of her lips but she kept her mouth shut. Luther knew damn well that if it came down to him or Klaus, Emelia would choose the latter every time without a second to think - no wonder their relationship was so shitty.

Emelia had taken a seat next to Vanya, the timid girl was uncomfortable in more ways than one. She sat slouched over, her posture horribly bad, she allowed her hands to be enveloped by the sleeves of her large jacket and she kept - not only her eyes - but her entire face downcast. Vanya hated the house. Lovingly, Emelia wrapped an arm around her ordinary sister and rubbed her back somewhat rhythmically and soothingly. Vanya seemed to appreciate the gesture as she sent a small, barely there smile before leaning back into Emelia's soft touch, she smiled too.

The lounge was a ridiculously large, open-plan room. Pillars made from some sort of stone decorated the edges of the room, holding up the corridor above and creating an unhomely feeling. The wooden flooring was bland but expensive and the same could've been said for every peice of furniture in the mansion. This was the room that held the portrait of Emelia's twin above the fireplace and so, she too kept her eyes to the hard floor like her sister.

Diego and Allison sat opposite one another, beside the roaring fireplace with a wooden table between them. They each sat on identical hard backed chairs - Diego staring blankly into the flickering flames and Allison nursing a scotch, her eyes awkwardly darting anywhere and everywhere.

Luther sat on the sofa opposite Vanya and Emelia, he sat alone in the middle, the cushions dinting heavily around him and the youngest swore she could hear the telltale creak of its frame.

Klaus wasn't even in the room, he'd collasped onto a similar sofa as the one Vanya and Emelia were seated on. The place was open plan so, yes, Emelia could see her drugged up brother as the ceiling curved in to create a delicate arch, she learned to use that to separate the rooms. With the way Klaus had fallen onto the cushions one could've assumed he'd overdosed but Emelia knew him far too well for that. She saw him fidgeting consistently, occasionally hissing a snide comment to no-one in particular. The young girl laughed into her hand as she realised Klaus was arguing with Ben. She'd always been envious of Klaus, in a way, of being able to commune with the dead - what she wouldn't give to see Ben again.

Sighing, Emelia shook her head, her chestnut locks falling onto her shoulders as she rid herself of negative thoughts. Klaus had it bad and she wouldn't wish it on anyone, much less herself. She was being selfish.

Her train of thought was derailed when Luther awkwardly stood up from the couch with a groaning creak and fiddled with the long ends of his thick, wooly coat.

"I guess, um, we should get this started," Luther mumbled, feeling quite uncomfortable with all eyes on his ginormous figure. "So I figured we could have a sort of memorial service, in the courtyard at sundown," the 'eldest' shoved his hands into his pockets as he explained his idea.

Everyone listened intently to Luther, besides Klaus who had pulled himself up from the couch with a groan and trudged to the open bar. The sèance threw himself down onto a barstool and poured himself four shots, downing them one after another.

Emelia snickered, earning herself a glare from Luther and prasing looks from other her two brothers. Vanya gave a stifled giggle and Allison rolled her eyes, sipping at her drink again.

"Say a few words, just at dads favourite spot."

"Dad had a favourite spot?" Allison asked, her voice low and a little shaky - in her youth she'd been a daddy's girl although Emelia had always questioned how that was possible with Reginald as their father. It was understandable she was upset, his death had brought up fresh wounds, the least the Hargreeve's children could do is allow the memories to scab again.

"You know!" Luther exclaimed, as if he was trying to jog their memory. "Under the oak tree, we used to sit out there all the time," he gave a short smile, he was reliving the days in his minds eye. "None of you ever did that?" He actually sounded quite shocked.

Emelia rolled her eyes at his blatant, unrequited affection and respect for the (thankfully) deceased man. Number one had always been the favourite amongst the children, Emelia and Klaus coming in dead last apart from little ordinary Vanya.

Klaus pulled himself out from behind the bar sluggishly. "Will there be refreshments?" He asked, his coat newly unbuttoned, a smoking cigarette in one hand and quite a large cup of something alcoholic in the other. He took a seat on the other side of Emelia, resting his head on her shoulder which relaxed under his weight. "Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner."

"No!" Luther seemed offended at the idea. "And put that out, dad didn't allow smoking in here," he ordered and Diego rolled his eyes.

"Yeah well, unfortunately for you, dad's kicked the bucket," piped up Emelia, scrunching her face up cutely and shrugging her shoulders. She'd gotten over it alot quicker than she thought she would've considering her reaction earlier on. She brushed it off, assuming it was a combination of her hangover and the initial shock. Klaus jumped up, cackles bubbling from his lips as he jumped giddily around the room.

Just as Luther was about to bite back at his little sister for back-chatting him, Allison interrupted. "Is that my skirt?" Klaus turned quickly.

"What? OH! Yeah, this I found it in your room," he confirmed, taking a long drag on his cigarette. Klaus carried on bouncing across the carpet. "It's a little dated I know, but its very breezy on the bits." He gestured vaguely to his bottom half.

Luther huffed loudly. "Listen up! There's still some important stiff we need to discuss." None of the Hargreeves answered. "All right?"

Klaus stopped in his tracks and instead of just rolling his eyes, he rotated his whole head sarcasticly while pulling a face at Luther before re-taking his seat and laying draped over Emelia again.

"Oh yeah," commented Diego from his chair by the fire. "Like what?"

"Like the way he died," number one fired back quickly.

"And here we go." Diego shook his head with an angered smirk, choosing to look back into the fire.

Vanya looked up suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and her shoulders trembling under her siblings gaze. "I-I don't understand," Luther scoffed. "I thought they said it was a heart attack."

"Yeah. According to the coroner."

"Well wouldn't they know," retorted Vanya and Emelia grinned brightly at her.

"Theoretically."

"Theoretically?" Allison mimicked, her tone less than convinced.

"Oh my god! You dumbass Luther," yelled Emelia suddenly, throwing her head back in exasperation.

"Excuse me?" He said.

"You seriously think one of us killed him?" She was disgusted and her already pink eyes began to illuminate slightly.

"Why are you snooping around in my mind anyway?" He snapped back, shifting within his thick coat.

"My telepathy is non-intrusive, so for me to hear that you must've been projecting it you dick." Allison gave her a disapproving scowl, although the look she gave Luther wasn't much better. Klaus snorted, not caring to cover his laughter and Diego let a grin take over his face as he shook his head.

"Hey listen here-." Luther began but stopped when he finally registered the look that his childhood sweetheart, Allison, was giving him. "I'm just saying at the very least something happened. The last time that I talked to dad he sounded strange."

"Oh, qeulle surprise!" Gargled Klaus, swishing his drink around his mouth.

"Didn't he ship you off to the moon? When was the last time you spoke to dad?" Emelia challenged, Luther really had riled her with their encounter in the study.

Fury rose in Luther's eyes but he decided to keep his thoughts to himself which suddenly made Emelia feel horrible. Not that she apologised.

"Strange how?" Spoke up Allison, attempting to drown out their other siblings which she classed as 'childish or immature'.

Emelia and Klaus locked eyes, their eyebrows raised in mutal indignation.

"He sounded on edge, told me to be careful who to trust."

"Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles." Diego interrupted, pulling himself up from his uncomfortable seat.

"No," Luther denied it right away. "He must've known something was going to happen." He turned to Klaus. "Look, I know you don't like to do it but I need you to talk to dad."

Emelia snickered, Allison scoffed and Klaus looked shocked beyond words that Luther had even acknowledged him.

"I can't just call dad in the afterlife and be like, 'dad, can you stop playing tennis with Hitler for a quick moment and take a quick call.'" Klaus waved his cigarette around for emphasis.

"Since when. That's your thing," he explained as though to a child.

"I'm not in the right. . . frame of mind." Klaus took a few moments to decide what his excuse would be, before telling his brother a watered down version of the truth. Right at the time Emelia told Luther, point blank.

"He's high."

Number four turned to her. "You just outed me," he gasped, slamming a hand onto his chest.

"Sorry bubs," she shrugged, pouting at him.

"You're high?" Asked Luther, for confirmation.

"Yeah! Yeah! I mean, how are you not listening to your nonsense."

"He has a point," added Emelia, and she felt the couch shake a little as Vanya let out a mirthful but quiet chuckle.

"Well sober up! This is important." Luther brushed down his coat for the hundredth time during his little speech and Emelia found it was all she could concentrate on. He just seemed so. . . oddly proportioned now. "Then there's the issue of the missing monocle."

"Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle," piped up Diego again from the arm of Luther's couch. His tone was extremely hostile and that hadn't really changed since they were kids. The two had never gotten along, why should the day of their fathers death have been any different.

"Exactly," replied Luther, smugly. "Its worthless. So whoever took it I think it was personal. Someone close to him, someone with a grudge." Every word he spoke, his small eyes narrowed and made their way to the youngest Hargreeves, Emelia.

Emelia gave a sarcastic, offended laugh. "So not only do you think it was one of us, you think it was me!" She was almost yelling, her words perfectly pronounced and venom soaking every syllable. "Why, huh? Why me out of all of us. Diego hated the old man, Klaus was hated by him and you, hell, you were the only one who had even laid eyes on him since we moved out!" She found that she'd risen from her seat, Klaus' head falling off her shoulder and Vanya's hands covering her face. Her hair crackled with electricity and her eyes and body held a faint, baby-pink glow that pulsed with every wave of anger that beat in time with her heart. Her uniformed skirt fluttered around her thighs and her blazer wipped back as though there was a strong wind.

Diego gave a low growl as Luther grunted in an almost embarrassed confirmation while Allison gave him a disheartened, disapproving look, her eyes sad.

"How could you think that?" Stuttered Vanya, pulling her sleeves up to her wrist so she could grab Emelia's hand.

Luther opened his mouth and closed multiple times, trying to find some kind of retort but he found nothing.

"Great job Luther, way to lead," Diego snarled by his ear before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"Thats not what I'm saying," number one mumbled, his face resembling that of a kicked puppy.

"You're crazy man, you're crazy." Klaus swung his legs out from underneath him, pressed a short kiss to Emelia's cheek and stood. "Sorry I'm just gonna go and murder mum, be right back." And with that, Klaus left, still randomly calling their mothers name to infuriate Luther.

Allison waited by Vanya while she, herself, rose from her seat and the two sisters left the room together sharing whisphers after a nod from Emelia.

"Thats not what I'm saying, I didn't-."

Emelia cut him off. "Luther, I-I'm sorry for snapping at you, it just got to me that you think I'd kill him."

Luther breathed a laugh. "It's just, your weapons dissapear y'know."

"I think the coroner would've noticed a gaping hole on his body. My weapons dissapear, not the wounds they inflict." Emelia reminded him gently.

"Ha, yeah. I didn't think of it that way," admitted Luther, throwing himself back down onto the sofa.

"It's okay." Emelia smiled. "Look, we don't get along but we're all a family and you have to trust us Luther. None of us killed him." She furrowed her eyebrows and Luther didn't answer, mulling over his thoughts. "Just, trust us," with that, she left the room to find something to eat, she hadn't realised how hungry she was.

"Thanks Em." Murmered Luther, well aware she was long gone down the intricate corridors of their childhood home.

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"In five, four, three, two. . . this is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside the capital west bank at main and sixth." The reporter held up a chunky microphone to his mouth, the number two printed onto the side of it, in thick, white writing.

Jim Hellerman stood outside of a large, monumental bank, a pristine white exterior with clean windows and tall, proud pillars. There was entire camera crews and news teams pushing by him, their lenses sorely focused on the seemingly quaint building. Pedestrians slowed their walks to nosy at the fast gathering crowd and some even slid through the horde to ask questions.

"A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages." Hellerman explained to the camera, stepping away for a moment to allow them to take a panoramic shot of the bank.

Inside, a big, burley man wore a long trench-coat and spoke authoritatively into his radio that buzzed with static. "Hey get them behind the counter," he snarled, fiddling with the trigger of his gun methodically as he gestured with it.

The alarms in the bank rung like sirens, a continuous, high-pitched clattering that made Emelia wince behind her UA mask.

The bank-goers screamed and cried, hugging one another tightly as they were put behind the counter and told they had to sit on the ground. Even in the dire situation some of the more affluent folks groaned through their fear - not wanting to dirty their clothes. Three quarters of the hostages were taken behind the counter while the rest were taken else-where by one of the mans comrades.

"Now you've put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't want to. Hmm?" The leader of the robbers growled again.

He threw his hand back down to his side angrily when a tall, dark-skinned girl with the most beautiful hair walked upto him, a jolly skip in her step. As the leader clocked her, she smiled.

"Hey! Get back with the others!" He roared but the young Allison Hargreeves didn't listen to him.

"I heard a rumor," she said, capturing the mans attention.

"What, what did you say?" He seemed frantic.

Allison stepped forward with a big, toothy grin and put her hand around her mouth as though she was going to whispher. The leader leaned in too. "I heard a rumor, that you shot your friend in the foot."

The mans eyes glossed over, purely white before he cocked his gun and shot his friend in the foot without a hesitation. His comrade screamed and groaned collapsing onto the floor right away, his finger clenching around the trigger and smashing up the windows.

A young, blonde boy burst through the glass ceiling, and free-fell to right behind the counter where a majority of the hostages were being held by the third robber. Luther landed on him, punched him across the face and then threw him through a window where he screamed as he hit the outer steps of the bank. Luther stood upright and brushed glass shards off his uniform as he relished in the praising looks from the hostages.

"Guns are for sissies, real men throw knives!" A short, dark haired boy yelled as he pulled two knives from his blazor pocket and threw them together. The headed straight for the leader that was still stood, dumb-struck by Allison but the knives made a sharp turn and pinned another man to the wall by his shoulders. Diego smiled, he hadn't suttered.

Emelia decided to make her presence known, she came out from the shadows an excited smile on her lips. Two of the bank-robbers saw her and made their way to her, their guns cocked.

"Hey I'm not gonna hurt you." Emelia cooed, playing with the ends of her braided hair. "Well, not too badly."

She brought her hands upto shoulder height, smirked, and wiggled her fingers in certain formations. Her eyes began to glow as myriad of weapons (ranging from knives to axes) appeared just behind her, each of them encased in a fushica glow. Emelia made a pushing motion with her palms and the weapons shot forward impaling the two men to the wall at the opposite side of bank. The man Diego had pinned there screamed when he realised that the others were dead.

Emelia's illuminated eyes diminished and as they settled back to their original colour, the weapons holding the men to the wall dissapeared. They slumped to the floor, gaping holes in their body and pink wisps floating around their dead bodies.

Young Emelia Hargreeves pranced over to Diego, slung her arm around his shoulder and taunted him playfully. "I win! I got two, you got one," her voice was sickly sweet, like honey.

Diego laughed, shoving her away and unsheathing another blade. Without looking, he threw it and it weaved in and out of his siblings to lodge itself into a hidden mans throat, he collasped onto the ground, blood pooling around his body.

"Now we're even." Said Diego.

The leader of the bank-robbers stood atop of the counter alone, all of his accomplices dead.

"Get back you freaks!" He pleaded angrily, his hand-gun pointing at the siblings.

"Hey, be careful up there buddy," laughed Diego.

"GET BACK NOW!" He yelled again.

"Wouldn't want you to get hurt," insisted Allison.

"Or what?" Asked a short boy. In a dull flash of blue light, Five appeared, cross-legged on the counter with the man. His dark hair was gelled back and a cocky smirk played on his lips.

The man took a shot at him, but like before Five spacial jumped in a flash of blue and reappeared behind him. His arms were crossed and the robber spun around to meet him. He pulled the trigger on his gun only to realise that the boy had replaced it with a stapler.

"Thats one badass stapler!" Exclaimed Five before he grabbed the mans arm and smacked him in the face with it, the stapler and all. He fell to the floor knocked out.

Emelia had helped up the hostages, some of them struggling to stand with their hands tied together. She summond a short knife and began to cut the ropes on the civilians, they thanked her feverently.

"Do I really have to do this?" She heard Ben ask, his voice afraid. His face dropped when Luther nodded frustratedly.

"Yes. Come on Ben, there's more guys in the vault," Luther told him snobbishly, his arms folded in finality.

Emelia raced over.

"Shove off Luther, he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to." She turned to her brother. "I can do it, if you want." She offered gently, taking his hand in hers.

Ben shook his head, giving a weak smile.

"I didn't sign up for this."

Five gave Emelia a reluctant, one-sided hug as she winced, a tear dripping down her face. She enjoyed saving people from the bad guys but she hated seeing her brother in pain, and whenever Ben saved someone it came with a risk to his own life.

Through the stained glass windows of the vault the six remaining Hargreeves could see the silhouette of Ben, his fists clenched and eight thick tentacles bursting from his stomach. The tentacles took on a life of their own and they wipped and whirled around, finding the bad guys and gruesomely murdering them.

Gasping Emelia, held onto the hand offered to her by Klaus and Five hugged her a little tighter. The beast within Ben's stomach screeched and roared as well as Ben himself. Blood splattered across the windows and then there was silence.

Ben opened the door sheepishly, his eyebrows furrowed and lips let in a straight line. His unform was messy and from head to toe he was smeared in blood.

"Can we go home now?" He asked shakily, hair dripping blood down his mask.

"Yeah."

Back outside of the bank, Jim Hellerman was still documenting the events of the robbery.

"People are coming out now, It's not the armed robbers. These are young schoolchildren in uniforms with masks on." He stuttered, confused at the state of the kids.

A plethora of questions were being hurtled at the children, but the seven of them just stood in a neat line and smiled for the cameras.

Reginald Hargreeves appeared from out of nowhere, Vanya unseen, and began a speech that the children had become accustomed too. His moncle rested easily on his eye, the silver chain disappearing into his coat and overall, he seemed well-groomed.

"Our world is changing," he paused as the camera shutters clicked rapdily. "Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary." Reginald gestured to his children, all of which were grinning from ear to ear apart from Emelia who was trying to clear Ben's frowning face of blood. "I have adopted seven such children, I give you, the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy."

Sir. Reginald Hargreeves placed himself in line with his special children, presumably for some photographs but before he settled. He grabbed Emelia by the wrist and moved her to the end of the line, by Luther. Luther placed a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her in place and from where she was, she could see their father scolding Ben for allowing Emelia to mother him.

"Get off me Luther," she snapped, pulling her dark braids to the front of her body and shaking her shoulders.

"Behave then." He retorted.

Emelia bit her tongue so hard she could taste the metallic twang of blood but it stopped her from hitting him.

"Mr Hargreeves! What happened to their parents?" A reporter near the front asked, pointing her microphone at him.

"They were suitably compensated." Reginald replied simply.

"Are you concerned about the welfare of the children?" Another journalist quired.

"Of course, as I am for the fate of the world."

Emelia had to stop herself from breaking out in either tears or anger. His answers were so vague, hardly telling the truth. He bought them. He persuaded their parents to give them up so they could have a better life, and after all that, he found out he didn't like what he'd bought.

She hated him.

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