They Need Me

Summary: Written for Kira_Katrine as part of the FandomGiftBox exchange. Grace interacts with and thinks about her children
Warning(s): Spoilers for the first season of the Umbrella Academy; references to dead people

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Grace didn’t sleep. She never slept. She didn’t need to. She didn’t need to sleep, or to eat. She didn’t feel tired and she didn’t feel pain. When she needed to recharge, she shut down, knowing that Reginald would activate her again once she was needed. And if he ever chose not to do so, Pogo and the children knew how to start her up again.

She didn’t need to sleep, but she enjoyed the opportunity to sit in the room he’d given her. Surrounded by the paintings. She could never leave the mansion’s grounds, but seeing the beautiful paintings made her happy.

But the happiness she gained from those paintings paled in comparison to the happiness she felt when she could be with her children. And they were hers. She’d given them names; and in the books she read, if you named something, it gave them a connection to you.

Her thoughts turned more pensive as they turned towards the one boy she hadn’t been able to name. Number Five. He was gone. She didn’t know where. And every time she brought up his absence with Reginald, he turned cold and hard. Threatened to deactivate her. And as much as it hurt to have one of the children gone, she couldn’t risk being taken from the ones who’d been left behind.

But even though he’d gone, been taken from her and she hadn’t been able to name him in person, she still had a name in her heart for him. A name that she’d never spoken out loud; that she’d never told his brothers and sisters. She knew that losing him had made them as sad as it had made her. And she was certain that Reginald did miss him, even if he hid that fact well.

Keith. That would have been his name. And she thought about him a lot. She wondered what he was doing. Had he found parents? A new mother to love him? Did he have a whole new name? Did he wake up from nightmares and was there someone to comfort him when he did?

She let her gaze move over each of the paintings. All of them held their own beauty that she could enjoy and appreciate. And she would feel grateful for the gift Reginald had given her. Even if he didn’t see it that way. Even if her children didn’t see it that way.

But she’d spent more than enough time in quiet, silent reflection. They would be waking up. Wanting breakfast. Needing love and reassurance. She frowned, thinking of Klaus. Reginald had locked him in the crypt overnight and Grace knew he would need support. Someone to listen to him. Someone he could talk to who wouldn’t judge him.

Grace smoothed out her skirt and stood from her chair. She walked to the door of her room and opened it, stepping out into the corridor and meeting Pogo, who was walking towards her from the end of the hall closest to the stairs.

“Good morning, Grace,” Pogo said. “Reginald has allowed Klaus out of the crypt. He’s sitting in the dining room. Not saying anything.”

“Thank you, Pogo.” Grace smiled warmly at him and then walked past him, moving down the stairs and heading into the kitchen.

Klaus was sitting at the dining room table, his head in his hands. Grace couldn’t see his face, but she could tell by the shaking of his shoulders that he was crying, however silently. She didn’t speak, just sat down on the chair next to him, leaned over and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

“I hate him.” Klaus’ voice was muffled by his arms, but he relaxed enough to allow her to hold onto him.

She stroked her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I know it’s difficult to understand why your father does the things he does, but he always has reasons.”

Klaus pulled back, wiping furiously at his eyes. “You’re on his side,” he accused, his voice watery; but close to anger.

She reached out and took his hand, ignoring the way he glowered at her. “I know he can be difficult to understand, but he truly wants you to develop and train your powers.” She stroked his face with her other hand. “You have very special abilities, Klaus. No one else can do the things you can do.”

His lower lip trembled. “But I don’t like the dead.” He dropped his voice, glancing around as if worried his father might overhear. “They scare me.”

She squeezed his hand and smiled gently at him. “I know they’re scary, love. But the ghosts can’t hurt you. They just want someone to listen to them, so sometimes, they might get a bit overwhelming, because they don’t know anyone else apart from you who can hear or see them.”

“But when he locks me in the crypt, I can’t get away from them. They just keep crowding me and talking at me and….” Klaus breathed in deeply. “I don’t like it.” He stared at her, into her eyes, his own wide and pleading. “Don’t let him lock me in there again.”

“I’ll talk to him,” she promised.

He stared at her and then shook his head, pulling free of her grip. “He won’t listen to you. Even if you do talk to him.” He pushed his chair violently back from the table and stormed out of the room.

Grace stood up. She wasn’t sure Klaus would welcome her going after him. She would try to talk to Reginald, when she saw him, but it was unlikely he would give her words much weight, if any. Unless it was to do with their physical needs, he didn’t listen to anything she said about the children.

She walked into the kitchen and smiled when she saw Vanya there, helping herself to some toast. Her smile turned sad when she saw the untouched plate of sandwiches left on the counter and she walked over to her daughter, placing a hand on Vanya’s back and rubbing gently.

Vanya looked up at her, her eyes shadowed with pain. “Do you think he’s happy, wherever it is he’s gone?”

“If he wasn’t, I’m sure he would have found a way to come back to us.” Grace hugged Vanya gently. “I heard you practicing the violin last night. You’re doing so well at it. I’m very proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Vanya looked away. “I just wish Dad thought it was worth anything,” she whispered.

“He appreciates your talents, Vanya. Even if he doesn’t show it, I know he does,” Grace said.

“I guess I have to take your word for it.” Vanya shrugged. She wrapped her arms around Grace, whispering, “They’re going on another mission today. I heard Dad talking about it to Pogo.” She bit her lip before bursting out, “I wish I was like them, Mom! Why can’t I be special and do things like they can?”

“You are special,” Grace murmured. She hugged her daughter a bit tighter and tried not to think about her part in making sure Vanya didn’t know she had powers. As unhappy as Vanya was, as much of an outsider she felt, Grace knew that Reginald had acted only to protect everyone in the household. Even though he didn’t act like it, she knew that Vanya’s destructive powers had been concerning to him, at the very least.

“I’m not special like them.” Vanya’s tone was filled with bitterness. “They don’t talk to me anymore, Mom. Not like they used to. And they stop talking whenever I’m around. They’re treating me like an outsider.”

“I’m sure they don’t mean to do that.” Grace kissed her cheek. “But it’s hard to avoid talking about missions.”

“And Dad doesn’t want me to listen, because then I’ll know for sure what I’m missing out on.” Vanya pulled away from Grace and turned to pick up her plate of toast. “I’ll be stuck here again. Unless Dad takes me along so I can see how popular they all are.”

“Well, even if you do stay here, that doesn’t mean you have to be alone,” Grace murmured. “In fact, the three of us – me, you and Pogo – can spend the day together. And you can play your violin for us to listen to.”

Vanya’s smile was hesitant, but she nodded anyway. “I’d like that, Mom. If you really want to hear me play.”

“Of course I do.” Grace turned the cooker on and got eggs and bacon ready. “Now, just toast isn’t enough for a good breakfast. So I’ll cook up food for you and your brothers and sister and we can eat together before they leave with your father on the mission.”

“Okay, Mom.” Vanya took the plate of sandwiches from the counter and tipped the contents into the bin.

Grace pretended not to notice. She pretended that it didn’t hurt that she’d lost one of her children. Instead, she resolved to lavish all of her love and attention on the ones he’d left behind.

The End