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We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals
In Vol: 1 Clondemic
Lucky No. 3
Oct 15, 2019
Part Eight: Homecoming Fingers with nails bitten down to stubs ran along the wooden walls as Pogo led her down the hall, pausing over the illustrations they had pinned along the corridor. Other kids got coloring books - they got colorful drawings of combat techniques that taught them how to gouge someone’s eyes out. The air was stale, an eerie silence that had haunted the house since Luther’s “death”. Anyone who ever called this place home had left years ago. It was more of a museum than house these days. The only family portraits they had growing up was ones with them in masks, large oil paintings with daunting expressions. They weren’t a family after all, they were a team; an experiment. Their father took every opportunity to remind them of that. She could still feel his presence, ever haunting in the back of her mind. Her fingers twitched, itching to hold something - a drink, a joint, a cigarette. Anything. “Have you heard from any of the other’s?” Pogo asked from beside her, snapping her out of her trance. Sleep deprived and still high, Lucky felt a rush of paranoia. She exhaled roughly, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head - trying to act casual and sure she was failing. “I just heard about it a couple hours ago and came straight here…” She said, letting Pogo walk ahead of her down the stairs. Lucky reached for her phone in her back pocket, realizing she hadn’t charged it since the night before. It had been dead for hours, if anyone had tried to get ahold of her she had missed it. “Who knows if they’ve all seen it yet. Gavin lives in the middle of nowhere. I can text them but I’ve gotta charge my phone.” “I believe the charging dock in the kitchen is still functional. There’s no rush. We’ll just get you a nice cup of tea and you can have a rest, I’m sure they’ll come.” His words were laced with paternal concern. Her eyes were rimmed in dark circles, her cheeks gaunt from poor diet and binge drug use - her skin, hair and eyes all dulled. Her paranoia ebbed away, sinking into a guilt. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Rina and Israel called. Rina is on tour in Japan, she says she can’t cancel any of her shows.” Lucky and him shared a knowing look. Rina was better off not coming around. This place triggered too many bad memories, she had been through enough. She didn’t owe the old man a damn thing. Lucky could relate. Pogo went on, “Israel said he’d be here for any sort of services, but his son has some sort of infection so he’d prefer to stay with him in the meantime.” “Yeah, okay. I mean I think he can run here from Brazil in minutes. That’s where they live now, right?” Lucky asked as they rounded into the kitchen, Pogo nodding his head in response as he took Lucky’s phone from her to place on the charger. Grace had her back turned when they entered the room, hair perfectly combed and apron tied around her petite waist and humming a familiar tune. When she turned to face them, a smile split across her face - just as stunning as ever. “Camila, you’re home!” Grace’s sing-song voice cooed over the baking sheet she held in her hands, little chocolate speckled perfect circles of dough laid out in neat rows. “I’m making cookies, chocolate chip!” She placed the trays inside the oven, twisting an egg shaped timer on the counter before rounding the counter to cross the room. Lucky welcomed her mother’s embrace, burying herself into her golden tresses as she fought back tears. Grace’s fingers ran through her hair, soothing Lucky. “Oh my, you’ve lost weight. We need to get some food into you. The cookies are for tea at noon, but I can make you breakfast. Would you like pancakes, or oatmeal? Anything you’d like.” Lucky laughed, wiping away her tears as she leaned away. “No, I’m not hungry - but thanks. Can I actually just get a cup of coffee? I haven’t had much sleep.” “Of course, I’ll get that going right now.” Grace took Lucky’s face into her palm, her thumb brushing across Lucky’s tear stained cheeks. She gave Grace a weak smile and a shrug, wiping her nose with the cuff of her jacket. “Have a seat, are you hungry? I can make you anything you’d like. Pancakes, waffles….” Lucky blinked, certain she had already answered that question. She slid into a seat slowly, searching Grace’s features as she answered. “No...just coffee.” “Oh,” Grace said, pausing for a moment before she turned on her heel back to the cabinets. Lucky furrowed her brow, looking to Pogo with confusion and concern. His eyes were looking past Grace, his mind deep in thought. Fraught silence settled between them, Lucky burying her face into her hands as she exhaled. They already thought she looked like a mess, she didn’t see the point it pretending otherwise. Her mother set the french press beside Lucky, alongside a dainty sugar bowl and creamer. Lucky gave a weak smile in thanks, pouring the coffee into her mug as is and pulling it into her embrace. She could feel herself fading, coffee alone wouldn’t do the trick. She looked over her mug to Pogo and her mother. “Sorry, like I said - I haven’t had much sleep. Sort of out of it…” Lucky said with a weak smile. Tucking her hair behind her ears she shifted awkwardly in her seat. It was like she had forgotten how to act in front of them. So much had changed since the last cup of coffee at this table. Her phone lit up from the charging dock atop the kitchen island like a beacon, pulling her over. Leaning across the counter with her mug in hand Lucky watched as her phone connected to the network, waiting for a text from someone - anyone. A sole text from Israel, “Got ur number from pogo. thought u should have mine. Call if need anything” Lucky couldn’t help but smile, Israel always had his way of doing that. Somehow in the shitshow they called a childhood he managed to hold on to some of that light that had extinguished in the rest of them years ago. Suddenly flushed with emotion, tears filled her eyes. Blinking them back she wiped at her eyes with the cuff of her jacket. “I’m sorry, I just need some fresh air.” Lucky gave an apologetic look to Pogo and Grace, stepping out to the courtyard with her phone and coffee in tow. The sky was dark, a storm approaching. Scrolling through her contacts, Lucky stopped at one. Her fingers danced across her screen with a sense of urgency. They were all so caught up in the fact that no one had texted or called them, none of them had texted each other. Well, except for Israel. Though he only really did it so she’d have his number when she eventually lost control of the situation and they needed Izzy to add some levity. She sat back after a moment, rereading her drafted text to Gavin as she sipped her coffee. Hey, phones been dead. Just found out. Here now. U coming? She let the words sit there for a moment, so many unspoken. Lucky had learned to stop over analyzing every little thing with Gavin, it only made it worse when she’d inevitably fail. It was all going to be shit after tonight anyhow, Lucky could make it until then. She hit send then shoved her phone back into her pocket. Movement from inside the house caught her eye, two figures moving in the stained windows. Crossing the courtyard she rested a hand over the ivy covered brick, closing her eyes as she searched the shadows within. As expected she could sense Grim. She could recognize Riley just by the posture of his shadow, shoulders always slumped from that chip he carried around on them. There was another shadow standing at their door, arms full and stuck in between deciding to leave the bags and go ...or to ring the doorbell. “I wouldn’t do that if I were if I were you,” Lucky said from behind Santino just as his finger poised over the doorbell. She appeared from the shadows gracefully set atop the stone banister. She sipped her coffee casually, watching as he turned around slowly to face her. Lucky bit the inside of her cheek, hoping to distract herself from the sinking feeling of guilt and embarrassment. Santino's eyes were lit with amusement, should have expected this he guessed. Though - truthfully, he didn’t think her father's death would be the moment she decided to grow a set of balls. He really should have known better, but he had always struggled to understand the Hargreeves’ relationship with their father. Setting down the box carefully, Santi couldn’t help but grin. He had expected to see Lucky, but he never expected to see that look on her face. “Oh, so we talking now?” He said bluntly, sitting on the stoop and clasping his hands together. He’d never been the type to mince words. Lucky felt herself smile, her immediate reaction when being embarrassed was to laugh. Her tongue traced from the corner of her lips to the inside of her cheek, lips pursing to suppress her inappropriate giddiness. Santi’s eyebrows raised, watching her discomfort with mild delight. Lucky rolled her eyes, lowering herself from the banister to side beside Santi. When he scooted over to make more room she could have sworn she saw a hint of a smile. She had that effect on others, Lucky was hard to stay mad at. Santi licked his lips, wiping his chin and rubbing his hands together with anticipation waiting for her to speak. “Alright, you don’t have to get yourself all worked up like a pig in shit.” Lucky joked, bumping her shoulder against his. “I didn’t say shi-it.” He laughed, holding his arms up in weak protest. “Yeah, yeah. You didn’t have to. You say it with your eyes. You can’t wait to see me grovel.” “Nah,” The sincerity in his voice made her stop cold, like she knew what was coming next. He was going to be the good guy he always was and she was going to feel like shit. Santi sighed, draping his arm across her shoulders and pulling her in, “Just glad you’re here.” She smiled softly, “Yeah ...me too.” They waited like that for a moment, bathing in the sun on the stoop. It almost felt like it did before, when they were younger and still so full of dreams. Even after years of unwarranted exile, he still a friend to her when she needed one. Lucky rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes with contentment. It had been so long since she’d had such a simple moment of affection, every one she’d spend time with the last several years either knew her by a false identity or had the burden of a secret between them. Lucky had almost forgotten what it felt like to just be able to be in the moment and not have to worry about pretenses or dead brothers. “Hey,” She finally spoke again, breaking their silence. “I’m sorry ...for everything. I don’t have an excuse or anything. I’m just sorry.” He let her words settle between them, digesting each one carefully. She was still beside him, holding her breath waiting for his reaction. Her stomach was twisting itself into knots, rising into her chest. Just when she thought she’d might scream, she felt a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder. “Thank you, that means a lot.” He finally spoke, wrapping his other arm around her to pull her into a gentle embrace and holding her for a moment. It was the first hug she’d had that day where she didn’t feel like she was the one holding the other person up. Lucky sunk into his arms a little deeper, Santino squeezed a little harder. After a moment he released her, resting his hands on her shoulder and holding her at arm's length. “Now, I hope you know the only reason I was ever mad at you is because you ghosted me over some drunk bullshit you knew I wouldn’t hold against you.” He smiled wide, dimples growing deep into either cheek. It was always so disarming, his smile. “Shut up.” She said with a sheepish expression, biting the inside of her cheek. Lucky wiped away at the tears before they could fall, squinting to pretend that it was because the sun was bothering them. He bumped his shoulder into hers playfully, reaching behind them into the box he had brought over and pulling out a tinned vodka soda. “Fresh out the cooler,” He said, offering one to Lucky. She accepted the can greedily, setting aside her coffee mug. “You wouldn’t happen to have -” he cut her off by procuring a pack of cherry cigarettes, already unwrapping the cellophane around it. Lucky squealed with excitement, giving Santino another hug before plucking the pack from his hand. She balanced her drink between her legs, fishing through the fabric of her jacket to pull out a lighter. “Santi you are an absolute saint,” Lucky inhaled the cherry cigarette deeply, pausing before exhaling and taking a sip from her vodka soda. Santino shrugged modestly, reaching into the box and pulling out a beer for himself. Lucky smashed her drink into his, spilling a little bit of both their drinks onto the cement steps. She giggled, “Oops, my bad.” “Salud.” He said with a grin and a swig, leaning back against the banister. They sat like that for a moment, just two old friends sharing a drink on a familiar stoop. Lucky had almost forgotten the circumstances that brought them there, the hell that waited inside. It was around half way through her drink when reality decided her time was up. A familiar shadow approached the steps, Lucky pausing with her drink to her lips. Santino sensing the shift watched her with caution, brow furrowed. She set her drink down carefully, lighting another cigarette as the shadow reached the gate. He walked towards the Academy with a familiar reluctance, Lucky straightened herself as he neared them. Her face twisted into a sad smile, either hand holding onto the drink in front of her. "Hey ...you made it.” Wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t.
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We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals
In Vol: 1 Clondemic
Lucky No. 3
Mar 29, 2019
Part Five: Guilt Trips are a Bitch The taxi was where they had left it, a hunk of dingy yellow metal on the concrete horizon. Hanging from the mirror like a beacon were those fuzzy pink dice, cigar smoke curling in the sunlight. With jaws and fists clenched, a tense silence followed the siblings into the cab. Lucky squeezed between her brothers, propping her elbows up on her knees to bury her face into her hands. The taxi driver hollered over his shoulder, radio blaring. “Where next?” “The Umbrella Academy.” She spoke through slender hands, gritting her teeth at the static trickling through the radio. Lucky spread her fingers into her hair, trying to push against the pressure that had been building against her temples since she’d woken up. "Trying to get a glimpse of the kids or something?” He said with a laugh. “Just go.” Lucky responded before anyone else could. She didn’t have the patience for bullshit right now, for this fucking guy. They needed to get there before the others and they couldn’t afford any further delays and there weren’t many cabs making pick-ups at the police station. Every time Lucky closed her eyes she imagined what her sibling’s faces might be when they saw Luther, when they would realize the secret they’ve kept; every time she looked up she was reminded how much more difficult this was for Luther, Grim and Remedy. There was a weight pushing against her chest that made it difficult to swallow. Tears started to well in her eyes though she fought against them. She wiped them away but only ended up smearing them across her cheeks. Lucky looked at Grim out of the corner of her eye leaning against the door with his arms folded, hating herself for wishing he was Remedy right now. Lucky never had to really carry the burden of being a leader. She wasn’t a follower but she definitely wasn’t going to start leading the pack any time soon. Luther had always done it with Remedy at his side. Now Luther was literally falling apart and Remedy was nowhere to be found. She had thought he would have at least showed up made an appearance when she told them about their dad but she had barely sensed even a glimmer of his shadow in Grim’s since leaving the police station. Lucky knew if she really asked, Remedy would come. All she had to do was say his name and he’d be there, always. But all of their childhood Grim spent being told he was the toxic half of Remedy….Lucky felt like she was telling Grim that all over again by calling on Remedy, it broke her heart to do it. She couldn’t look at Grim, afraid to see the hurt in his expression. Her voice cracked when she spoke, a guilt twisting inside. “Remedy….I need you.” Cold, ice blue eyes turned to his sister next to him. Something like pain twisted up his stomach, but Grim simply swallowed and shoved it down. Remedy was there, of course, instantly tearing himself forward despite their mutual high. Grim held Lucky's gaze for a long minute, his expression blank but eyes revealing. Cold- even with all his words of love and carefree nature, Grim Hargreeves still carries the power to rip the life from anyone he touches. He wouldn’t touch her...never… but having her look at him like that and while calling out to Rem sent a smear of something through him that only his brother would ever know. A dark ink that stained as it went, painted Grim a darker shade than Remedy. But Grim smiles, crooked and carefree, erasing that thawing that icy glare just as fast as it had appeared. Lucky had enough to deal with without his inner demons. Grim didn’t fight Remedy as he took control, their posture shifting to envelop the heavy weight that always weighed the quieter brother down. He moved forward, carding a hand through Lucky's hair in a soft but urgent way, “It was going to happen eventually Luck.” There was a pain in Lucky’s chest as she watched Grim slip away, leaving a wound between them. She bit her lip, wishing already she could take it back - but she needed Remedy. Lucky wanted to tell him that she couldn’t do this without him, wanted to ask him to stay but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead she buried her face into his shoulder, her tears falling freely not even trying to stop them now. “I know,” Lucky wiped her eyes, trying to push her hair from her face. Stray hairs clung to her wet cheeks, tears clinging to her lashes and face red from the blood rushing to her cheeks - she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I don’t know what to do - I can’t….I can’t do it…” alone. The word faltered on her lips, she had already stabbed Grim in the gut once- she didn’t need to twist the dagger in deeper. She knew Grim would have her back but between the two of them she always had to play the role of the more responsible type, if you could even call it that. What they needed was a leader, but she couldn’t be that person. She looked at Remedy with pleading eyes, “Please...tell me what to do.” Remedy exhaled shakily and leaned back, his hand still lingering on her arm for comfort- for him or her, he wasn’t sure. “I don’t really know” he looked away, blue eyes darkening as he stared at the ground, “I never really planned for any of this and we’ve just been coasting on pure luck ever since. Grim- being who he is- is the only reason no one came looking. Luther isn’t exactly easy to hide” Luther snorted from his seat but kept quiet, his focus lost out the window. “This isn’t me, I am not him” Remedy gestured at their bigger brother, “and once they find out what I did they won’t even pretend to listen to me” Lucky exhaled as she leaned back, looking over at Luther as she spoke. “So what you’re saying is that we’re fucked.” “Luck, you don’t need to say you know” Remedy turned his gaze to her, hating her crumpled posture, “Blame us” “No,” Lucky said tersely, looking at him with absolute resolution in her eyes. “I’m not letting you guys go through this alone. I’m just as guilty...I’m not lying anymore. All or nothing.” He nodded, but averted his eyes immediately, “Sure, we’ll see how it goes. I can’t promise anything though. I’m not... I might not be…. I get tired.” They didn’t ever talk about his disappearances, one of those taboo subjects skirted around whenever they neared it. Remedy look back at her after a moment, “I don’t know if I can be there.” Lucky felt a familiar sinking feeling in her chest, that ache that always made it impossible to stick around longer than a few days. Then came the flicker, a flame deep within that she kept suffocated: Anger. It was always there, something she continuously snuffed out to protect the people around her only to reignite over and over again. She’d have thought by the time they had to deal with all of this Remedy would have figured his shit out already - but no one could have predicted the sudden death of The Monocle. Amber pools filled with a sad sort of a reluctant understanding, swallowing the words she wanted to say - there were too many and his time was running out. “Yeah, okay.” Lucky sighed, her emotions creating complicated knots in her chest. All she wanted was to get through to him, but he made it so damn hard. Maybe things would never be like they used to and she just had to accept that, and with that take on the burden of the responsibility. There were so many things she almost said; some kind, some petty….She didn’t trust herself to speak, unsure what might come out. Instead Lucky reached for his hand, squeezing it gently as she looked out the window - the cab rolling to a stop. Remedy squeezed her hand back, that contact tying his chest in knots. ‘There isn’t anything else you can do’ Grim voiced what he knew was true, though hearing it from his brother made it much more real. Revealing Luther was inevitable and well overdue, he just wished they’d had time to get somewhere. Luther was still the exact same as when Split had raised him from the dead- they’d figured out nothing. Maybe Dad dying meant they never would- the asshole did known how to fuck with their powers the best. Remedy closed his eyes from the stress, the soft cloud of his brothers drugs enveloping him before he could give Lucky any real help. They’d fucked up, now they had to deal with it. Grim pulled his hand free instantly, severing that contact before Lucky could feel the seeping coldness of his powers. He freed himself from the confines of the cab, narrowly avoiding a car speeding past, and turned to glare up at their childhood home. Dark, foreboding, but blissfully empty of the single entity that still gave him nightmares. Maybe he’d learn to love this house now that Dr. Frankenstein was gone. Lucky wiped away the tears and snot with her jacket sleeve lingering in the cab, her heart heavy. It would never change. Remedy would come and go leaving her with more questions than answers. All she had accomplished was wounding Grim and herself just a little bit more before than they already were because of her selfishness. “I get tired Luck.” Rem’s words repeated in her head, stirring that familiar ache in her chest. Any time she had wanted to ask Remedy about his absences Lucky had fallen short, too afraid what the answer would be. She had thought up so many excuses she wondered if she believed any of them anymore. He showed up less and less over time. Lucky told herself the drugs couldn’t help but even if that were true she knew it wasn’t just the drugs. There was a part of Remedy that didn’t want to be around so he didn’t mind giving Grim the wheel and, that was the part that Lucky was afraid of. The street was quiet, which wasn’t unusual but she had expected at least a couple of local news channels to set up a camera or two - there had been some live video in front of the Umbrella Academy that morning. With any luck they were already on to the next story but Lucky found that unlikely. She had to circle around the cab to help Luther out, struggling to unfold himself from the low-riding cab, his limbs stiffened. Lucky linked her arms through Luther’s, following behind Grim as they approached the mansion doors. The Umbrella design that branded their flesh was mirrored on the glass paneled and iron wrought doors to the mansion. She laid her hand atop the shaded portion of the stoop, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She could sense Pogo and their mother inside, but no one else. They were in the clear….for now. Even with his back turned to her, Lucky could read Grim just by the way his shoulders settled. She opened her mouth to speak when Luther tugged at her arm gently: or rather, gently for him. She was thrown off balance for a moment but he pushed her back upright apologetically. He was right, Lucky had done enough damage for now. She needed to get Luther off the street before someone spotted them. “Just mom and Pogo inside….Mom’s in the kitchen, Pogo’s in the library.” Her voice was heavy, unspoken apologies weighing her down. Grim deserved a minute to whatever poison he desired to get him through this shit show and Lucky wasn’t about to make this all about herself - at least not any more than she already had. She gave another glance down the street, catching a regretful glimpse into the bodega across the street. Lucky couldn’t see behind the counter from where she stood but she recognized the tattooed hands that reached across the counter to hand back change. Fuck. Lucky hadn’t even given a thought to Santino the entire morning, obviously preoccupied with other matters. Her fingers twitched for a cigarette, her fresh pack now in Grim’s clutches within her bag. She could have laughed, the world seemed to be conspiring against her today. “We better get inside….I’ll meet you in there.” She said softly, taking Luther’s hand and giving Grim one last apologetic look before stepping into the shadow beneath her feet taking Luther with. The passed through the doors and walls, Lucky gripping Luther's hand tight so he remained merged with her. She had long grown used to the shadows, the hazy vignette over your vision and your breath halted. Luther squirmed beneath her hold, Lucky could sense his discomfort. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as she led him up the stairs. Grim watched them disappear- dark shapes melding into the even darker shapes around them. He stood outside a moment longer, torn between splitting or doing the right thing and following them inside. It would be so easy to just turn down the sidewalk, ignore this issue, let Lucky deal with their shit and forget about it. Distantly he felt a humorless chuckle from Rem- of course they’d never do that, but he could dream right? “Yo! Hargreeves!” Grim slapped on a smile and turned to face the street. Santino stood with his foot propping the store door open, hand raised in greeting and surprise, “Hey man, you guys alright’?” “Oh, yeah. Best day of our lives.” Santino crosses his arms in a ‘look’ but Grim went on, “I’ll bring some booze and party favors over to celebrate later maybe? All provided by the old man?” He winked and turned to head towards the gate, giving Santino no chance to deny or call him on his bullshit. He needed alcohol, preferably a shot of that expensive ass whiskey dad kept in the cabinet. Maybe he’d be drunk enough that by the time shit went down, no one could harass him. If only. Lucky decided to take Luther to her room so that she could bolt the door and not rouse suspicion. She locked the door before she did anything else, pausing to double check no one else but Mom or Pogo was in the house. They were both still in their perspective rooms, Mom cooking and Pogo hunched over a desk in the library. Her room was immaculately kept, even the floor was polished. The only indication that no one lived there anymore were the white linens drawn over the furniture to protect it from dust since the last time she was there. If you stayed away long enough it all built up. “You want to sit down?” Lucky asked Luther as she folded the white linen spread across her bed to clear a space for Luther. She went around the room to uncover the rest of her furniture, looking around with bitter nostalgia. Her room was small, at least compared to Luther's. He had gotten one of the larger room at the end of the hall. Lucky’s room was just beside his, sharing a wall. His was filled with books and records, a model airplane hanging from above. Lucky’s room had always been sparse - only whatever Hargreeves or mom filled it with. The only evidence that Lucky had ever been there before were the walls. They were covered in old photographs, smiles long forgotten worn by faces none of them had worn in years. A monument to an era. Luther leaned over her vanity to inspect the ones she had lodged between the corners of the frame of her mirror. Most of them were her and Grim or her and Santino, or the three of them off on some adventure. There were some candid's of the siblings - though candid isn't something they did well with each other. Luther plucked a Polaroid that had been carefully leaning against the mirror. It was slightly faded but otherwise in good condition. Lucky leaned her head against Luther’s arm, looking down to the photo in his hands. Lucky remembered the day it was taken. She held the baby’s breath to the lens, showing off the flower Remedy had plucked for her. Through the cluster of petals you could make out Lucky looking up to the camera with Remedy’s arms wrapped across her from behind. It seemed like a lifetime ago, she barely recognized the faces she glimpsed through the blossoms. “He’s going to be okay, Luck.” Luther placed his hand on hers, his voice low and scratchy from lack of use. He didn’t speak often and usually only in monosyllabic responses. When he did speak he made sure his words would count. Lucky gave him a reassuring smile and a squeeze. Luther couldn’t help but to look out for them, even now. “I know.” Lucky said, wondering if she believed it. Lucky turned her back to Luther, carefully dropping to her knees and gripping at the floorboards. A shadow pushed from beneath, dislodging a floorboard for her to grab ahold of and pull. Lucky had been keeping anything worth anything hidden in her room ever since her father confiscated sweets Santino would bring over for them as kids. After she, Grim and Remedy had ran away she had created a go-bag. Anything worth keeping was in that bag, something that she could take and run the second they were free. Funny how you spend so long imagining something then it turns out completely different. “What - looking for?” Luther sputtered, his voice failing him. His fists clenched with frustration, no matter how hard he tried Luther was endlessly reminded of his condition….constantly deteriorating. Lucky looked over with concern, able to sense her siblings’ emotions like her own. She had spent their entire childhood and adolescence looking after all of them, Lucky could recognize her siblings emotions just with a look. Luther turned his back to Lucky, staring out the window with dull eyes and a clenched jaw. He didn’t need her coddling or pitying him. He was supposed to be the one fixing things. “Luther, don’t be like that.” Lucky said from behind him, her voice vibrating with equal parts of frustration and concern. He could hear her rummaging through her bag behind him, looking with a purpose too distracted to push him further. She unpacked some of the bags contents onto the bed, digging underneath the layers of packed clothes and shoes to pull out a folded stack of cash bound by rubber bands. Relief washed over her expression, a brief escape from current circumstances. As she counted out the bills, the burden slowly pressed further and further into her chest until the brief relief was long forgotten. It was enough to last a week of two, maybe more if she actually paid attention to the money she was spending. Either way Lucky would have to come up with more soon if she planned to stick around longer. Lucky twirled the gold chains that adorned her neck, twisted the golden rings on her fingers. She could always sell them but she preferred to leave them for Grim to pawn for some extra cash. Not that it mattered…. Maybe it was easier to think about problems she could solve than face reality. She reached into the front pocket of the bag, pulling out an oversized ziploc bag with prominent signs of wear from being stuffed into a too-small pocket. Within were a couple candy colored treats, undoubtedly Grim's and, a wrinkled pack of cherry cigarettes. They still smelled as fresh as the day Santino gave them to her, the sweet aroma of the tobacco making her mouth water. He found her broken glaring up at the Academy, unable to enter. He took lured her into his bodega with the promise of cherry cigarettes and Thai food, picking up the pieces and putting her back together until she felt like herself again. Then Lucky fucked up and left without another word and didn’t say shit to him again for just about five years now. So she had that fun little gem to unpack on top of everything…. She twirled the pack in her hands, tracing the blossoms designed on the pack. Back then the only reason she smoked them in the first place was because of the delicate pink flowers printed on them. The idea of chain smoking them made her stomach turn, but Lucky still enjoyed them as a treat from time to time. She didn't bother opening a window, lighting her cigarette and falling back across her bed. “Shouldn’t do that.” Luther mumbled. “I think I get a pass on Dead Dad Day.” Lucky droned, rolling over to ash carelessly on the floor. The smoke filled the small room quickly, prompting Luther to crack open the window. It was the first time she had ever smoked in her room, she licked her lips to savor the taste. There was a window upstairs she had been fond of hanging out of to smoke back in the day. That or she’d sneak out to smoke behind the bodega across the way. She and Grim would send light signals to Santi from their room, always off on their own adventures with Santino their personal guide to the real world. She closed her eyes and let her head hang over the side of the bed, her hair draping over to dust across the floors. Luther remained in the window, looking out. The sunlight coming through the window pane contrasted against his ashen skin, the dead were meant to be buried not left out in the light. Lucky clenched the fabric under her fingers, intrusive thoughts daunting her wonted sunny disposition. “Hey,” Lucky propped herself up, calling softly to Luther. She could see the weight of his burden by the slump of his shoulders. He didn’t respond right away, considering ignoring her. They wanted him to hide away and let them take on all the responsibility, like he was some invalid that needed protection. Luck’s voice interrupted his spiral of self-loathing. “Hey, stop that. Don’t you dare put this all on yourself.” He turned to her, dull blue eyes imbued with a sense of despondence. For so long he had been their leader and now he had to sit back and watch them flounder without him like he wasn’t there, when he was. Lit cigarette hanging from her lips, Lucky closed the distance between them in two paces, hands raking through his hair to cradle his head. Her eyes were filled with concern while her voice conveyed the weight of their situation. “We will handle this, stop worrying about us. Let us take care of it.” Lucky knew her assurances wouldn’t make a difference for Luther, but she hoped it provided some comfort. She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, careful not to burn him. When his body gave no give she squeezed him as best she could, grunting with the effort. “Hey, I love you.” She added, feeling him finally soften underneath her embrace. “Love you too, Luck.” Lucky could still sense his reluctance to sit idly by, but a flicker in the shadow’s down the hall diverted her attention. Her hands clasped on either shoulder, pushing him out at arms length with a sense of urgency. Luther recognized her expression, amber eyes searching the shadows around them. She pursed her lips, gesturing for him to be quiet. “I’ll be back, please stay here. I promise it won’t be much longer.” Lucky whispered, giving his shoulders a reassuring squeeze and tossing the cigarette out the window before teleporting out the other side of the door. She appeared just before Pogo as he reached the end of the hall, leaning against the wall with a guilty expression. “I know, I know - no smoking in the house. I put it out - scout’s honor.” “Camila, it’s great to see you.” She had never seen Pogo so sad, his knowing eyes wilted - she wondered if he cried like humans did. Lucky couldn’t think of a time she’d ever seen Pogo cry, or any other chimp for that matter - at least not tears. More just wailing sounds of anguish. Lucky smiled fondly, trying to stop her heart from pounding against her chest. “Your mother will be happy to see you, she’s -” “In the kitchen, yeah. Want to come with?” Lucky wondered if she was being too friendly, like she was hiding something. Wondered if he knew that she didn’t want to leave him here alone with Luther standing only feet away. If Pogo had his suspicions he displayed none, smiling softly as an acceptance to Lucky’s invitation. Lucky smiled, feeling that glimmer of paternal comfort Pogo had always provided - the closest thing to a loving father they’d ever have. “Great, because I do not know how to get around here on foot.”
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We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals
In Vol: 1 Clondemic
Lucky No. 3
Mar 02, 2019
Part Two: Dead Dads and Cops Lucky watched as the cop stuffed Split into the back of his car, standing from the curb, smoking from the pack of cigarettes she had nicked from the dick upstairs. What the fuck had he been thinking? Lucky was more than capable of handling herself. She flicked the cigarette out onto the street, crushing it under her heel. Menthols, I fucking hate menthols. Lucky teleported through the streets back to her brothers’ apartment, going to the edge of her range to step into the next shadow and do it all over again. Adrenaline had burned off most of her high at this point she was crashing. It’d be a couple hours until they’d be processed, then she could bail them out. She wanted to be angry, but it really wasn’t worth the effort and she was fucking exhausted. When she finally reached their flat, she teleported right into their bedroom, crawling into their bed fully clothed and shoes on. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow. She woke up what felt like only moments later, Luther shaking her awake and shouting her name over and over at full volume, sunlight filling the room. “Jesus fucking Christ, Luther. I’m up, I’m up…Grim and Rem okay I just have to go bail them ou – “ “Lucky, it’s not that – dad’s dead.” The world seemed broken for a moment, like there was a glitch that caused her to mishear Luther. Then she realized she must be dreaming, wiping the sleep from her eyes and trying to will herself awake. She had taken a lot of drugs last night, maybe she was still hallucinating. It was the only explanation because there was no way – “Did you hear me? Dad’s dea-“ “What do you mean he’s dead?” Lucky snapped, sitting upright. So - it wasn’t a dream, and she felt too sober to be hearing shit. Maybe Luther was just wrong. “It’s all over the news, they found him last night….they’re saying he died in his sleep.” Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. What? How? Why? Lucky was never prepared for this, Hargreeves had always been immortal in her mind. Too insidious to just be wiped away. She felt a twinge of guilt, as if he didn’t deserve exactly what he got. When she had thought about this moment, she always expected to be much sadder. Sure, Lucky felt the burden of all the words left unsaid between them….She had always told herself and the others that Hargreeves loved them in his own way. Maybe she had just been peddling the dream she thought they deserved. Luther clasped a hand on her shoulder, searching her expression. She could see the sadness in his eyes, and the need he still had to comfort her despite his own pain. Lucky never pretended to understand the relationship Luther and Dad had, Luther had always been his favorite but that too came with a price. “Are you okay?” He asked, eyes filled with concern. “Yeah…you?” “Yeah.” They wrapped one another in a hug, not letting go until the other was ready. Hargreeves was a dick but he was their dad, and they were the only ones who would be able to understand that. Did this mean there’d be a funeral, would the others be coming? It had been at least 7 years since they all had last been together, around the time that Luther…. Lucky looked over at her brother who had started down the hall, his movement stiff from joints that didn’t bend like they used to. Was he thinking the same thing as she was? They couldn’t keep Luther a secret anymore. The only thing that had been stopping them had been protecting Luther from dad. Hargreeves had inflicted enough pain on the others knowing they felt it, they couldn’t stomach the thought what he’d do with one of them who couldn’t feel any at all. Waiting any longer to tell them would only make it all so much worse. She grabbed her purse and a change of clothes, still wondering if she’d wake up at any moment and it’d all be a nightmare. “Luther I’m taking a shower and then we’re going, be ready in 30.” Lucky shouted from the bathroom, reminding herself of their mother for the second time that day. She started the shower and shut the door, unstrapping her shoes with one hand while rummaging around her purse with the other. It was a crumpled mess of multi colored pills, wrinkled bills and loose tobacco from her broken cigarettes. At some point at the party, she had made herself a dime bag out of the plastic wrap from her crushed cigarettes. She finally threw the destroyed pack out, lighting one more of the menthol's before throwing away the rest of those too. She counted out her bills, cutting herself two neat lines of the coke; one for before the shower, one for after. She had enough to bail out Grim and Remedy, but Lucky would need more money soon. She rolled her crispest twenty so that it resembled a straw, fidgeting with it as she looked herself in the mirror, trying to figure out where to go from here. She’d once heard some theory that when you were really overwhelmed with a task, you should break it up into a bunch of smaller tasks. They could grab cigs at the bodega on the corner and catch a cab from there to scoop up Grim and Remedy….try to get to the house before the others and….tell them about Luther. She snorted up her line with desperation, the only thing that was keeping her upright. She showered quickly, changing into a pair of jeans and a tank top. Nothing was going to get rid of the dark circles that had developed after 36 hours of nonstop drug use, but she had some makeup that could mask it well enough. Her mind was running scenario after scenario on how things could go, all of them ended up with her, Grim and Remedy as the bad guys. She thought about the pain she felt when she realized they had let her mourn Luther for months – over a year,blaming herself for not being there. Lucky clenched her jaw, checking herself in the mirror before taking the last line. Maybe they could tell them after the funeral? No, they couldn’t do that with Luther. Hiding him was one thing but making him mourn their father all alone while the rest of them were together at the house….It was too cruel. “Are you ready?” Lucky shouted from the bathroom as she rubbed the last of the fine powder on her gums, washing the rest of the remnants from the sink. Luther made a grunt that she took as a yes. She pulled on her shoes and grabbed her purse and jacket, running out with Luther behind her. Lucky ran into the bodega to buy her cigarettes and a coffee, asking Luther to flag down a cab. He was still trying when she came back out, he was big enough for them to see him but his reaction time was so slow he couldn’t get their attention quickly enough. “I’ve got it.” Lucky asserted, sensing his frustration. She waved a hand at a yellow taxi that had just turned the bend, fuzzy pink dice hanging from it’s mirror. The driver was a chimp who had an old school newsboy cap on, chewing on a lit cigar and playing the news on the radio so loud she could make out the words as he was swerved the car over to the curb by Luther and her. “…founder of the Umbrella Academy, inventor of the Televator, Levitator. Olympic gold medalist and nobel prize winner Sir Reginald Hargreeves was found dead in his home last night. Officials are claiming there is no evidence of foul pla-” “15th precinct please…and can you turn that off?” The driver muttered something under his breath, turning the volume low enough that she couldn’t hear it, only a buzzing noise through the Plexiglas that divided the cab. The last thing Lucky or Luther needed was to be reminded by the rest of the world how great their father was. They rode in silence, Lucky lighting one cigarette after the next. Last night felt like ages ago. She thought back to when Remedy had ripped the guy off of her. Lucky shook her head, she should have known better than to have let that guy grab her like that. When you looked like she did and spent as much time as she did in clubs and casinos, assholes were just a part of daily life. If she beat up every guy who was a dick to her she’d never have a night’s rest. Most of the time she didn’t even mind when guys like him getting handsy with her because it’d gave her a chance to snag their wallet. She wasn’t one for stealing, but when someone was asking for it like that, she couldn’t help herself. “Here we are, the 15th.” Said their driver gruffly, turning his radio back up. Lucky gave him a fifty to keep the meter running, bringing Luther along. When she asked to pay the bond for Joseph Hargreeves at the counter, she gave the clerk her name to process the payment. Recognizing their names, the clerk offered her condolences. She wanted to laugh instead Lucky gave a weak thanks, unsure of what you said when you weren’t sure if you were happy or sad that your dad died. She waited for the clerk to process ‘Joseph Hargreeves’ release, tapping her foot impatiently and chewing her nails in place for a cigarette. Grim was used to the cells at the 15th precinct. And they were used to him. Quickly after being dumped in the police car, Remedy had slid away- mentally exhausted and ignoring any of Grim's jabs at getting them arrested. He wasn’t actually angry, just excited to be able to make fun of his brother for being the troublemaker for once. Normal protocol from then on - the cops knew Joseph Hargreeves well enough by now to know he wouldn’t cause a problem and just needed to sleep off whatever he had taken on a cold metal slab. Lucky usually bailed him out so he wasn’t remotely surprised when she was there, bright and early and with enough cash to set him free. He was very surprised to see Luther in tow, hulking form dwarfing their sister as he stood statue still behind her. They needed to work on that- Luther tended to forget that humans fidget, shift, move constantly. “Goooooood morning family!” He clapped Lucky and Luther on the shoulder after the cops released him and waited for them to retrieve his few belongings, “What brings you both here today?” Lucky was twisting her hands, jittery from a combination of nerves and coke. She couldn’t quite get the words out, looking at Luther for help but he didn’t pick up on the social cue. “Grim….um,” Lucky stammered, she did horribly with confrontation. Even when she wanted to break up with someone, most of the time she’d just leave. Better to rip it off like a band-aid, wasn’t that something people said? “So….dad’s dead?” Grim blinked, his smile remaining just as wide as he stared at Lucky, then looked up to Luther. Both looked just a morbid, just as sad…. slowly he dropped his hands and cocked his head, controlled laughter in his voice, “As in the extraordinary Sir Reginald Hargreeves? That dad?” “Grim,” Lucky said in a firm tone, glancing at Luther. “This is serious….we have to go home. All of us.” She felt as though she might be sick, just the thought of it was enough to twist her stomach into knots. Grim's smile slowly faded, replaced by a look of reproachful disdain. Not at Lucky, but the idea of everyone else in one place just because that old asshole decided to finally die. Slowly, he looked away from her and up to Luther. “You okay big guy?” Luther nodded, though he looked far from it. “You okay with seeing everyone again now?” And there it was - that was the thing they been putting off for years knowing someday their decision would backfire. Hargreeves dying hadn’t even been a possibility in any of their heads. He was an alien, a fucking diabolical genius, surely he would have figured out some way to live forever? Which was exactly why they had kept Luther from him. Luther being alive meant more than just an experimental puppet for their asshole of a father to play with- it also meant that Grim and Remedy did have the ability to work together. Hargreeves being dead meant they didn’t have to worry about becoming lab rats again… but it also meant that what they had done was going to finally have consequences. Grim didn’t like consequences. “Nope” He looked back towards the cops bulletproof window as they passed paper work, his lighter, and wallet through the hole. Drugs confiscated, sadly. He signed his name, stuffed his crap in his back pocket, and looked back at Lucky, “No fucking way are we going. Come on Luther.” Grim turned to leave and Luther followed, his body on autopilot. It made Grim's chest ache at the immediate response, but they would talk about it later. Luther had to agree that this was a bad idea. Lucky pursed her lips, watching them as they walked out. She had expected Grim to dig in his heels, but this was non-negotiable. Lucky waited until she knew no one was looking, teleporting outside in Grim’s path, arms folded. She wanted to be patient, but it wasn’t her strong suit. “Grim….Luther deserves to go home. You can’t keep hiding him in some homeless shelter!” Her frustration was evident, scrawled across her expression. Grim rolled his eyes, not even phased by her appearance, “Look, I need some coke or something. I’ve got a killer headache and I do not want the first thing I see this morning to be that goddamn mansion-jail. Luther-” He pointed back at the large guardian behind him, “Has to stick with me” Lucky’s fist clenched, eyes smoldering with a quiet anger that made her seem twice her size looming over Grim. “Grim….I agreed to keep Luther a secret for one reason and one reason only. To protect H I M. You made me promise - no, you made me complicit to all of the years of grief and loss that they’ve experienced….and now you’re telling me you don’t want to tell them because you have a fucking headache?” She shoved her purse into his chest, her face twisted in a combination of anger and disgust. “Here, take it all. Drugs, cigarettes, even money for more drugs. I don’t give a fuck - but we are going home and we are taking Luther with us and that’s that.” ‘She’s right’ Grim grabbed at the bag, eyes wide and expression shocked. He swallowed, ignoring Remedy’s little whispered jab and shakily glanced back at Luther. The big guy gave him a thin lipped smile. Grim spent a second longer looking at Luther's skin, sallow and grey, eyes shadowed with dark rings and glazed over. His hair was the dull color of wheat, not the bright blonde it had once been. There was no fucking way they could cover up what they’d done… but Lucky was right. Luther deserved to go back, and Split would always be responsible for him. “Fuck”
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Lucky No. 3

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