Vide Noir | The Umbrella Academy

One

Chapter One: An Old Friend in '63

Della Markham's bright eyes scanned her surroundings, them widening at the sight that unfolded.

Old styled cars were parked on the side of narrow streets, shop bells rung as folks wandered in and about, all in fine suits or bright coloured dresses. Della blinked, taking a deep breath before venturing further into town. She had no clue where she was, or when, but the Commission hadn't found her yet, which was a good sign.

The Commission seemed to always be on her trail, no matter where or when she ran off too. They were always one step ahead, and for some reason she knew they'd be here in days, if that.

Della had joined the Commission when she turned twenty, as, she had nowhere else to go. Her parents, she didn't know them, and when a woman named the Handler kicked her awake on a park bench, offering her a job with a ridiculous pay, she couldn't decline the offer. Granted, if she knew exactly what the job entailed, the girl might've turned the woman down.

The Commission was an interesting place, filled with characters of all sorts. Their job was overseeing and managing the space time continuum, to make sure whatever events that were supposed to happen, happened. Della was good at what she did, which was to work something called the infinite switchboard. People liked her, and for ten years she did her job without problem, joining groups and making her way up the latter. Until one day, the Handler offered her a new position.

Della couldn't believe it when a package was tossed on her desk, a mission. She read through it, confused to why the woman would want her to go on this particular one. Travel to 1850, get rid of a few smugglers and call it a day. It seemed pointless, especially when Della didn't notice anything alarming in the timeline when she looked back on the switchboard. Nonetheless, she agreed. Of course, until she found out her old friend was breaking contract with the Commission.

Supposedly, as a co-worker put it, her friend was planning on breaking the contract, was done with what he'd been forever assigned to do. Shocked that with all the killing he had to do, he hadn't broke sooner. The Handler suspected as much, and figured Della would try to help. They were close after all, he seemed to be her only friend. The woman planned on getting her out of the picture, if they were going to lose their most successful assassin, they couldn't lose the person who would be trained to take his place.

Della knew all that was a lie, the Handler had no idea of his escape plan. The Handler wanted her gone for other reasons.

Nonetheless, she helped him get back to the future, one she never got to experience. The Handler never let her passed the year she'd picked her up, only ever gave her missions into the past to make sure what needed to be done was completed.

So, when Della fell into the vortex with him and landed in 2019, she couldn't believe it. She bid her goodbye to the boy and left, hadn't seen him since.

She figured if the Commission was after them both, it would be more difficult to find them if they weren't together. Besides, he was with his family now. He didn't need her.

Della couldn't remember how many timelines she's been in, or how many commission drones she buried. No wonder why they kept sending more.

"Can you believe it?" A woman's voice echoed, smiling wildly at her husband. "Kennedy's coming to town!"

Della froze, watching as the man nodded and lead his wife further down the street.

"Kennedy?" She mumbled, rushing to a store front, dresses sat on mannequins with large posters to the side, showing off whatever designer it was from. In one corner, 1963 was printed in big blue letters. "Shit."

The girl rushed off, stopping in front of a new shop. Televisions of different sizes were all set up, the same clip of JFK replaying as he was sworn into office, followed by a flash of the news he was coming to— Dallas.

"Great." She muttered, stepping back. "How the hell am I getting out of here?"

She barely managed to nab a briefcase back in '45 in Paris, considering she had to ditch her attackers body in a ditch. That was another thing Della never really liked about the Commission, they didn't care who risked their lives for their purpose, you were either against them or with them. And she was never a killer, well, she never wanted to be.

A loud shot rang out, Della whirled, facing the street as three figures blindly shot at a bus bench farther up the road. People screamed, she could make out the outline of a blue suit laying still. She cursed, backing into an alleyway next to the television shop. She watched as people ran by, continuing to yell as if that would do anything.

Della peaked her head out, eyes widening as they landed on the figures, their matching blond locks shining in the days sun. She knew who they were, had met them at the Commission when she first joined. They were ruthless, doing whatever they were told with no questions asked. Most people she worked with had morals even if they claimed they didn't, but they really lacked them.

Another round of gunfire echoed, and when it fell silent again it seemed that was the last of it. Della ducked back into the alleyway, taking a deep breath.

"You can get out of this." She told herself, mind wandering to all her many doubts. "But how'd they get here so fast?"

And why did they send three? Normally it was one person who was after her— maybe they really planned on killing her, not just scaring.

A crack of energy made her jump, Della turned with wide eyes as a figure appeared landing in the middle of the way, circling in on himself. Her breath hitched in her throat, the familiar person scanning her over just as she was doing to him.

"Do you ever change your clothes?" The words slipped before she could really clue in to what they were, the boy's famous glare settled on his face as he pursed his lips. He was back in his blue and red suit, black socks pulled up to his knees. It was what he changed into when they appeared in 2019, his whole closet was full of them. "You look good with a full head of hair."

He gave a nod, "Adella."

"Five." She returned the gesture, walking towards him. "Now. What the hell are you doing here?"

Despite his calm exterior, the panic that coated his light eyes was frighteningly clear.

"I could ask you the same."

"Mhm, but I asked first."

He shifted on his feet, still staring her down. "Commissions after my family and I. Tried to save the world, only brought it and us back here. I don't know where they are."

"They're still after you?"

"And you?"

She nodded, "I guess trying to kill the Handler wasn't the best plan I've ever had."

The corner of his lips quirked up, "We never had the best plans, did we?"

Della nodded slowly, looking around. Her mind raced, "You have a way out of here?"

"Not yet."

She was used to working alone, having been running by herself for however long, it felt forever.  But this glimpse of familiarity, of seeing her friend in front of her made her long for a feeling of normalcy. "Need a partner?"