The Umbrella Academy Losers Au

033 / Bruises

wc: 463

October 2nd, 2020 Friday

Once again Seven's eyes flutter open to see his older 'brother' in his room. This time he turns over, listening carefully as the boy most likely stands completely still.

He listens as his charger falls to the ground, meaning the boy has his phone.

Once again Seven repositions himself, turning onto his other side towards the boy who happens to appear in his closet.

"Get out of my room and give me my phone back." "W-Whatever." He mumbles throwing the phone to the boy before disappearing.

"Thank you," He mutters making his way down the stairs slowly. A couple of text from Patrick and some additional unknown numbers.

Patrick

P: I had fun. We should hang out again.

Unknown number

Un: hey it's Victor, we hung out last night

Unknown number

Un: Patrick gave me your number last night. It's belch btw

Unknown number

Un: It's Henry. You seem cool

—

Seven giggles at the text before sliding his phone into his sweatpants pocket. One and Four sit at the table, clearly exhausted.

"Are you guys okay?" "No...had a mission like four hours ago." The time reading 7:02 am. Three sits down gradually.

"Didn't we get back at like one?" "Yes...we left like thirty m-minutes after we all got back." Five grumbles taking a sip of his morning coffee. The aroma of it filling the area he's in.

"That sucks." "Fucker." Eddie grumbles lifting the ice pack off of his eye. For some reason, Seven eventually catches a glimpse of the cuts and bruises on everyone's faces.

One has a cut lip and some bandages around his hands, Two has a giant bruise on his chin, cheek and a cast on his arm.

Three and Four both have bandages on their noises, Richie doesn't wear his contacts. Three has bruises on her stomach and sides.

"They broke my glasses." He frowns, taking a bite of his toast.

Half of Five's face turns a light green color, going from under his eye to his jawline. His pale skin turns different shades of colors in the natural light. His green eyes discover a pair of brown ones.

The two make eye contact for a solid four seconds before looking away. "T-T-They almost beat our asses." He murmurs. Richie lifts his head from the table.

"B-Ben helped for the most part. The guys ran away. Had full-face m-masks on? Don't even k-k-know what they look like."

Two grips Fours hand gently, pulling him away from the table and into the living room where he can lay down.

"I h-hurt my ribs...it hurts to breathe." His breathing shallow as he drinks some coffee. "Where's Grace and Dad?" "Somewhere." Beverly shrugs.