tamingthemuse | Prompt #114 - Seychelles - Bedside Manner - Alex Foster

Title: Bedside Manner
Fandom: The Umbrella Academy
Prompt: 114 - Seychelles
Word Count: 993
Warnings: Heavy spoilers for the Apocalypse Suite
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Gerard Way and Dark Horse Comics. No money is being made and no infringement is intended
Summary: Number Five keeps watch over his sisters in the aftermath of issue six.

Huxley General Hospital

Ungodly hour of the morning

Hargreeves would have found Five’s lack of sleep fascinating. Leaning against the faded wallpaper of one of the waiting rooms, Five reflected on that amusing thought. Had Hargreeves shown an interest, or if Five had stayed around long enough, there would have undoubtedly been tests to find the limits of that particular gift.

Five hadn’t required sleep since his time spent in the future trying to unravel his ability so he could travel back. Twelve or fifteen years ago…twenty or thirty years from where he was now. He found he could still sleep if he wanted to, or become rendered unconscious, but restful sleep for pure enjoyment was gone.

Because of that fact, he had volunteered to keep watch at the hospital while the remains of the Academy shifted through the wreckage of their estate. Plus it kept him away from questioning reporters. Without Pogo, public relation duties now belonged to the family; Five would vanish back into time before dealing with the press.

Kraken could handle them, Five thought with small grin. At the first question about Seven (Vanya, he self-corrected) Kraken would carve the reporter up with that favorite knife.

Five pushed from the wall and ambled around the small dreary room. Pink overstuffed furniture filled the room along with plastic ferns and motor lodge quality artwork. He reached into his vest and checked his pocketwatch. It was a shame about Pogo, he thought. The chimp was the only one among them they all agreed was worthwhile.

Five paused briefly in the open doorway, and then walked into the darkened corridor. Hospitals at night were uninviting places. Unnaturally quiet rooms along with dim lights did not mix well with the sharp odor of cleaning products.

Hands in his pockets, Five continued down the hallway. He glanced quickly at the nurse station on his way to the room assigned to his sisters. The surgeons had wanted Vanya in their ICU, but strong insistence from Number One and Kraken had convinced them it would be safer for the hospital at large to keep her in the same room with the Rumor.

Not that Allison had any power over Vanya now. A well-tuned violin had seen to that. What they didn’t tell the doctors was Five kept watch not just for outside threats but inside ones as well. He put a bullet in Vanya’s brain once and was more than willing to do it again.

Pushing the door to their room open just enough to slip his small frame inside, Five wondered again at the wisdom of saving Vanya. If they had waited just a few minutes longer, the Academy would never again have to worry about their wayward sister ending the world.

But Kraken would never have seen that. Vanya was his through and through. Fifty years on his own had taught Five that attachments like that often came back on their owners. Standing in the dark hospital room, Five hoped Vanya would not one day make them all regret their mercy.

Five came to a stop between the two beds. Machines whirred and clicked around Vanya, keeping her alive. With bed sheets tucked tightly underneath her chin and her hands peaceably folded over her breasts she almost looked innocent. Around the large bandages and tape holding her skull closed, her skin was still unnaturally white with faint lines starting at her neck and continuing beneath the dotted hospital gown. Like a violin.

Five again buried his hands in his pockets and felt Hargreeves’ monocle. In the rush after Pogo’s death, he had forgotten he still had it. Five turned it over between his fingers as he looked at Vanya. How long had that old bastard Hargreeves known, he wondered.

Allison’s bedside lacked the drama of life support machines. She slept curled on her side like a small child; her arms tucked close to her body. Sponge like dressings wrapped around her throat where Vanya had sliced it open.

Much like Vanya, Five knew the Rumor’s appearance of innocence was a lie. He didn’t need Hargreeves’ monocle to see her wiles were still intact even if her voice was not. No one had mentioned it yet, but Number One gave up saving the world just for her.

Five sighed as he looked over the miserable goodwill gifts the family had placed around the girls. Sympathy for each other was new to his family. Number One had brought flowers, mangled by his large hands, and placed them first beside Rumor before moving them to a table between the two beds. Séance offered a card to Rumor, signed by several recently departed celebrities. Five hadn’t brought anything—he didn’t see the point of pretending just because they were injured.

Only Kraken left get well gifts for Vanya alone. Making use of a well stocked novelty shop within the hospital, he pinned postcards to the wall above her bed. New York at night, London for tea, Sydney over the bridge, a sand dollar in the Seychelles, and a family pointing up at the St. Louis arch. Wish you were here.

Five snorted at that statement. Kraken shouldn’t try for heartfelt. He couldn’t understand that Vanya was their responsibility not just because she was family, but because they had created the monster now hooked to life support.

Hargreeves may have started it, but they could have stopped Vanya before the Icarus Theater. None of them had wanted to though, including Kraken. He proved that at the carnival. Their lack of caring for each other almost ended the world.

Five sat on the corner of Rumor’s bed and flipped his pocketwatch open again. Fifty years gone by, a brief spell of freedom from the Academy, and he was right back to looking after his sisters. In the family again. Without Hargreeves to guide them, maybe they just might make it this time around.

An old man could hope anyway.

End