a mannequin and a boy • the umbrella academy ON HOLD

volume three, issue 3

After the whole excitement of seven new possibly siblings and the worst live showing of "YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER!" ever, Dolores really wanted a nap. 

She had a bit of time before they had to start their daily exercise, so she hiked up to her bed, letting herself peacefully rest for a while.

But her rest, of course, wasn't peaceful.

Immediately upon the beginning of her slumber, she woke up again. But it wasn't in her luxury, ghost-proof bed-- it was the same place, but with a desert landscape. The building was flattened, scattered to just debris and remaining foundation. 

Fifty or so feet from her was an older man, resting on an old sofa with a rifle and a mannequin head beside him. 

Dolores quietly approached the scene. Something about the mannequin head gave her shivers, but also a feeling of familiarity. Something about the man gave her a similar feeling, and instead of fearing him, she was almost excited to see him, even though she didn't know him.

He jolted awake upon her gentle tap on his shoulder, grabbing his rifle hastily and pointing it at her. She jumped back, shaking her head rapidly.

"I'm sorry!" She exclaimed, taking a couple steps back with her hands raised out of reflex. "I don't even know where I am, please don't shoot me!" Of course, Dolores forgot this was a dream. If she could feel and interact with everything, how could she think it was?

"Who are you?" He asked, slowly. Dolores also recognized the familiar scent of alcohol, mostly because it was the same kind Father liked to indulge on occasionally. 

"I'm Dolores."

"Impossible!" He raised his rifle higher, standing protectively in front of the mannequin head. Dolores remembered Jayme saying something about an illusion she created where Five pictured a mannequin, and the two dots finally connected.

"I'm not that Dolores. I'm different, see? Ginger-- well, natural brunette. She's totally a blonde," Dolores started, slowly stepping closer to Five.

This very dream could be a good insight as to who the Umbrellas were, and she was going to take advantage of that. 

"You're right. She is." She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "So, why are you here, Dolores?"

Dolores took a seat on the other old couch, next to the mannequin head. 

"I don't know. Maybe you do?"

"Me? I don't know why I'm really here either. Well, yes, I do. It was my stupid father, and his stupid rules, and my own stupid actions. Now I just deal with time traveling and shooting JFK and stuff like that," he rambled, taking a swig of his almost empty drink. "Oh, do you want some?"

"No, thank you. You time travel?" She asked, changing her tone to more interested. 

"I do. Sadly. It's dangerous, though. Never do it."

"Wasn't planning on it."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while, before Five had ran out of the bottle entirely. He groaned, before passing out entirely. 

Dolores quietly stood up, waving a hand in front of his face. No response. 

She took a look at her surroundings. A wasteland stretched as far as the eyes could see, and what was once a bustling city full of too many people was empty. Even the mannequin head had seen better days, from the looks of the scratches on it.

Next to Five was a briefcase that she hadn't noticed before. It looked practically brand new, as if time, or the lack thereof, hadn't affected it yet. She really wanted to know what was inside it. 

For a moment, she turned back to the mannequin. It felt like it was calling out for her, begging for some sort of help. 

Carefully, Dolores reached out to the head, resting her hand on it, because in her gut that was what she felt she needed to do. 

Instantly, she was exhausted. In this dream state, she could still feel the energy sucked out of her like a sponge. Until the sensation stopped, and the mannequin head dropped to the ground, waking Five up.

"You're here to hurt her!" He yelled, grabbing his rifle again before promptly shooting at Dolores. Instinctively, she switched to spirit form, or at least attempted to, if it weren't for the lack of power she had after that encounter. She was able to evade the bullet, at least, before running over and grabbing the briefcase.

Finally, at that time, she woke up. And next to her was a briefcase that looked very similar to the one she just grabbed, but she was fearful. She didn't want to open it anymore, because she didn't know if she'd be able to survive it. Touching the mannequin in the dream alone weakened her, and she still felt weak. She shoved the briefcase under her bed, hidden away from sight. 

And then she still had to go on the run, despite feeling bad.

Dolores hated running.

As a spirit, she didn't need to be physically fit. She could just avoid every single punch and work really well on defense, while Marcus or Ben would punch the enemy instead. But, as a sibling bonding experience, the family worked out together, which included a state-of-the-art set of treadmills next to the kitchen.

Even Christopher participated, and he was a floating cube.

Despite hating running, she was rather in shape. After having to do it for years now, it wasn't completely miserable anymore, just boring, but today, she was panting and heaving throughout the workout, earning weird looks from especially Ben. 

The most boring part was having to listen to Ben rant all the time.

"And they had the audacity to say Dolores and I were twins, or siblings, or whatever. Racially motivated, in my opinion," Ben rambled. His shorts were disturbingly short, in Dolores's opinion, and the glare he had made it even more cringey for her.

"Well, I don't think they meant it in a bad way," Sloane chirped. She was a really pretty runner. She didn't even look like this was actual, physical torture.

"None of that matters now," Marcus cut in, annoyed. He got off the treadmill, and Dolores took that as a cue to get off herself before she'd pass out right there.  

She walked over to the table, drinking the awful green smoothies they had to drink. For how tired she was, anything was refreshing to her. 

Marcus kept talking about the Umbrellas, and Dolores was about to give her new information when she heard a faint voice in her head. She barely noticed it if it weren't for the urgency it held, as well as the familiarity. It was her own voice. Perhaps softer, and seemingly more innocent, but equally as scary and convincing. She was telling her not to say anything about the dream. That it would be better off. 

She couldn't tell where her voice was coming from, but she had a bad feeling about it. She felt like, if she didn't  be honest with her siblings, something bad would happen. But according to the voice, something worse would happen if she didn't. 

So she kept quiet. She didn't say anything about the strange voice, dream, Five's abilities, or even the briefcase. 

Something about this voice was dangerous. Even if it belonged to her, Dolores knew that this version of Dolores inside her head had to go. 

And, she knew there was one person who could help her.

authors note

heyyy sorry for the wait but I was traveling a lot (: hope y'all enjoyed! I introduced a huge concept that I didnt even plan until I was writing but im excited for it and I hope y'all are too!

question of the chapter: are you excited about summer being almost over, or sad?

my answer: I still go to school so im pretty bummed about it being over bc I don't wanna go back yet ): but excited for the new experiences, opportunities, etc.