Umbrella Academy Untold: Number Eight, Ragna Hargreeves / "The Shift"

A Daddy Dead is a Daddy Dearest

Ragna Hargreeves didn't sleep.

When she was forced to, she would rush into her bathroom, dig around the vent, find her Valium, and chase it with a gulp of decaf coffee and sweet Italian crème. Ragna Hargreeves was deliberate and never, ever dreamed. She couldn't allow herself to fall into R.E.M. and so it had become routine to down that Valium and coffee and wake up exactly three hours from her starting point. Intervals of three prevented R.E.M.. However, over time, her deliberateness faded out and it just became normal life.

Ragna stood in her kitchen wearing a black tank top and boy shorts, tattooed arms supporting her upper body. She slumped her head into the sink, a few last droplets of pink vomit dripping from her lips. Mixed with her own deep red blood, it coated and slid down the dishes accumulating in the big steel vessel. She wiped her lips with her wrist and turned her body around, her mascara dripping wetly down her cheeks. A big black cat rubbed itself against her ankles.

"Hello, Carlisle..." she breathed, bending down and picking the heavy creature up in her arms. Due to her upbringing being less than ideal, her physical illnesses really only got worse after she left because she had no idea of how to manage them. Everything was taken care of by Grace or her nannies. She barely even knew shit about her actual illnesses. Moving out just meant that she lost her insurance and any means of obtaining new equipment to care for herself.

-

"Alright, sweet girl! Are you ready?"
"Yes, mom."
"And you all are watching behind me?"
"Yes, mom!" The other seven children said in unison, watching intently as Grace popped open Ragna's low-profile feeding tube. Tonight, she was teaching the others how to handle the tube if they ever had to help Ragna eat.

"It's easy as pie..." Grace started. "First, you just open the tube...like that. Then, you attach this here..." she attached what looked like an extension to it, removing the back of that one too. "And now, you fill the syringe with whatever Ragna wants to eat and attach the syringe into the back piece here. Who wants to try first?"

The kids looked at each other, each of them holding their breath and waiting for a hand to raise. Everyone was afraid of hurting her.

A confident, "I'll go" could suddenly be heard from the back of the group, and Luther shifted past his siblings to the front.

"Luther, of course." Grace smiled, handing him the empty syringe. "A natural-born leader. Don't worry. She won't be in any pain."

Luther inhaled deeply and nodded, kneeling next to Ragna. She made eye contact with her brother, who was always metaphorically much 'older' than she was. "Please be careful." She said quietly. Truthfully, one wrong tug on the tube and it's inner plastic would rub against the raw hole in her flesh, causing an aching discomfort. She knew it was important that her siblings learn how to feed her, but it didn't mean she wasn't terrified that they would fuck it up. Until this point, Grace and only Grace had handled Ragna's tube.

"I will. Promise." He replied. They exchanged that same comforting smile from what could be considered an elder to his junior before Luther filled the syringe with the thick yellow liquid settling in the measuring cup. Today's glorious mixture was a conglomeration of sweet potato, corn, Pediasure and corticosteroids. Luther carefully injected the syringe into the gastric tube, and as he did, Ragna pondered how strange it felt to have food enter your stomach directly. It had been all she knew her entire life and the sensation was still almost foreign.

Each child took a turn with the syringe until the measuring cup was empty. They made jokes with Ragna, trying to make her experience as painless as possible, and although the meal was viscous and foul she almost felt normal in the presence of her mother, along with the many children who cared for her as if their relations were natural.