power lines / five hargreeves x gn!reader

Back to the start

Y/n fell to the floor of their bedroom, hitting the soft carpeted floor. They were glad it wasn't dusty. It took a moment for them to adjust to their surroundings as they pushed up off the ground. This was their bedroom. Their actual- they were back at the Academy. Nothing in this room was dusty, actually. Grace must still clean it, they thought with a hum. They were, oddly enough, in their own clothes. Funny, Y/n didn't remember wearing that. As far as they were concerned, the last thing they were wearing was their uniform. And, upon checking, they discovered this was hung neatly in their wardrobe.

Y/n stepped out, finding the hallways strangely empty and quiet. Was it true? Had they really been gone for twelve years?

After a few moments, Y/n saw Pogo. He paused for a moment, as if doing a double-take before carefully approaching them, "Y/n? Is that you?"

Y/n blinked, "Pogo. Hi. You look older." their eyes watered slightly, "How long have I been gone for?"

"Twelve years, give or take." He hummed in response, "You don't look different at all."

There was a moment of pause as Y/n rushed back to their bedroom to look in the mirror, and ran back again, "I still look like a teenager?!"

"Yes. Did you expect otherwise?"

"I've been gone for, well, for me it's been twenty-seven years. I thought maybe I'd look a bit older."

He took them by the arm gently, "Come on, let's take you to see Sir Hargreeves." Y/n allowed themself to be taken with the master of the house to the office.

Pogo knocked on the door, "Sir, you have a visitor."

He looked up, frowning, "What ridiculous person is at my door at this hour?" His eyes flicked to beside Pogo, where Y/n was standing in surprise. He hadn't appeared to have aged at all. "Number Nine."

Y/n swallowed, "Mr. Hargreeves." Pogo left the pair to it.

"Have a seat." He inclined his head. Y/n frowned. This wasn't usual behaviour for him. They did as instructed and perched carefully on a chair. "Would you care to explain where you have been for twelve years and five months?"

They paused for a moment, considering how to phrase this, "In several places. Unwillingly. My illness, Reality Incompatibility, it's apparently called, consumed me. I have experienced twenty-seven years of being in a lot of different... places."

"And you could not simply leave?" There was the Reginald Hargreeves Y/n recognised, "Did you learn nothing of your years here? Needn't I have bothered training you?"

Y/n exhaled quietly in a sigh before answering, "No. I was sent through countless other realities for all of those years. Some of them for decades, some for only months."

"Is any of it worth my time? Was it worth yours?"

"Yes, actually." They tilted their head slightly, "I learnt a lot. Actually, I wanted to ask for some advice."

Reginald simply raised an eyebrow. Y/n took this as their cue to ask.

"One of the realities I was sent to, it was one where The Umbrella Academy was fictional. A television series. The series started at some point in 2019 following, uh, your death."

"It is 2019." He frowned harder, "What happened in this reality, exactly?"

They tried to recollect exactly, "There was an apocalypse the Academy had to deal with."

"I did intend on more specifics. But regardless, what is it that you seek my advice on? Assuming that, since my apparent death kick-starts this 'series', that this isn't part of it?"