The Umbrella Academy Losers Au

07 / A Tune

Wc: 350

Seven sits silently. So does Two. He holds onto Richies glasses, staring at the frames and the glass part. Admiring the things that helps his best friend see.

He eats his food quickly, leaving and running back upstairs.

"Number Seven." Once again he flinches. His arms come up slightly. Five snickers, earning a kick under the table by Three.

"Take Number Four his food. Do not, let Number Two down there. Understood?" "Yes sir." Seven picks the plate up gently, he finds Pogo holding the door for him.

"Thank you Pogo." He whispers as the door closes behind him. Once again, he navigates through the dark room. It's not the first time this has happened to Number Four.

His screams become quieter by the second, in the darkness it's like he can see Stan on the other side of the glass.

"Stan? Stanley? Let me out! Let me out please!!" His voice muffled by the glass. Simply Seven slides the food into the little slot.

"Please? I need you." "I thought I wasn't special...how about an idiot?" "You know th-those were jokes. I love you. You know that right." He lets out a shaky breath, swallowing hard as he pulls the plate towards him.

"Sorry...I can't." "Fuck you!!" Nobody has ever heard Four yell like that. "I hate you!!" He yells, the sounds become muffled as Seven closes the door.

"Don't w-worry. He never means that." Seven sniffles before walking away. He hates hearing those words, or anyone yelling.

—an hour or two later.

"What are you doing?" "Trying to break in there. Isn't it obvious?...idiot." He mutters not expecting Seven to hear him.

"Am not." He whispers back, walking away into living room. Finding Grace sitting, joyfully helping Beverly with her hair. Cutting it to be exact.

Long locks of red fall to the ground. "You look nice." Seven smiles sitting beside Grace gently.

"Number Two." A stern voice startles everyone. Except Grace. Quickly Beverly and the others clean up, Grace calmly finds something to sew, bouncing her foot gently as she hums a tune.