Chaotic Good | the umbrella academy

SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
' SPAGHETTI MAKER '

Part of Eddie had felt guilty for leaving Vanya's apartment without saying goodbye, but the idea of seeing the sadness in her gaze was too much to bear. One person had enveloped her mind, and the moment she entered the Academy, she searched for him.

Finding Pogo wasn't hard to find. She located him in the garden, staring at where the mound of ashes had been. Since the funeral, they had dispersed, no longer mimicking a molehill.

She didn't speak to maintain his peace, but she also refused to look at the last spot she'd seen her father.

"I assume you have worked out the technicalities," Pogo spoke first, voice low and grave.

"Yes."

The ape sighed and turned to face her, but she kept her gaze ahead. "Please know I tried to sway your father from the idea."

Eddie ground her teeth and didn't reply straight away. "You know she was aware that she couldn't help, right? That her main purpose was to care and heal. You stole that from her, and look what it did to her."

"I take no pride in my actions."

"But he did."

"He did what he thought was right."

"And what was that, hm?" Finally, she turned to face him. "What was the point of this grand scheming suicide?"

"I cannot say."

"Pogo," Eddie half-snapped before she caught herself. She sighed and closed her eyes briefly to try and calm herself. "This is bigger than him now, bigger than however clever he thought his plan was. People's lives are on the line."

"And why do you think the two are separate?"

The redhead furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Your father's death brought you together. Is it so hard to believe that he would sacrifice himself for the greater good?"

Eddie looked away with a scoff. "When has that man ever done something that wasn't for himself, and if you think anything different, you're just as brainwashed as I feared you'd been."

"Miss Edelyn-" Pogo turned, anger in his eyes, but Eddie was already on her way back to the house, bandaged fingers hanging at her sides.

"What did you say to make Pogo so mad?"

The redhead jumped at the sudden voice, and she turned to face Klaus, who leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. She didn't answer immediately and instead stared at him for a moment. "Where have you been?"

"War."

She stepped towards him, eyebrows furrowed. "No, where have you been? Your injuries have healed. You look... older."

Her brother stared at her in silence before he sighed. "I grabbed their suitcase. It took me to Vietnam."

"And when you say Vietnam, you mean..."

"1967."

"1967," she agreed. Her eyes flickered to the dog tags under Klaus' shirt but stopped herself at both the chances of touching his skin and her broken fingers from moving to pick them up and inspect.

He noticed and pulled them from under his collar, letting her study them.

"How long has it been for you?"

"17 hours."

Klaus sighed and looked away. "What happened to the lady-"

"-Dead."