Various The Umbrella Academy One Shots

Train Trips are the Worst

(Content warning for referenced injuries)

For all the marvelous technological advances that the world was so happy to boast about, there was one thing that managed to stay the same no matter how frantically the world around it changed and altered into something unrecogisable from what it had once been. This was, of course, the train. No matter how often they were adapted, shifted and reformed to try to keep up with the ever changing times, there was always something about the good old train that never truly changed, the heart of the mechanical beast never letting itself be adapted to what was expected of it. An admirable beast if ever there was one.

But the majesty of the train was the last thing on the mind of the poor Spaceboy and The Séance, the two being far from the prettiest sights to behold.

Klaus rested his head against the window, not feeling quite strong enough to hold himself fully upright. Not that this was the most pleasant alternative either. His head already hurt worse than he could recall it having ever hurt before, though this would have had to be expected given that it really was not all that long ago since he had his head unceremoniously bashed right in. On top of this, the window shook just enough to shoot another jolt of pain into each and every wound that decorated his once pretty face. His nose was broken, the reflection told him this as clearly as it could. Was the window the more graffiti covered and distorted of the two? Probably not, and if he had the chance to ponder this long enough it would have hurt him more than his bruised ribs could have hoped to.

Luther barely fit in the train seat, but he could not risk the effort that standing would entail. His movements were sluggish, even the most simplistic actions took a momentous amount of effort and it was not worth the struggle. It had been impossible for him to not know that his body was not truly his own, but now, having had the connections between mind and body shocked and short-circuited into malfunctioning made it all too clear that he was no longer himself but whatever it was that The Monocle had made him into being. Looking down at his hand, he focused as hard as he could to curl and uncurl his fingers, and yet it was as if it was the hardest thing anyone had ever tried to accomplish in their entire life.

It had been an unspoken agreement that the Televator was not an option. At the best of time, it left the user feeling discombobulated and even on occasion nauseous, and so in their bruised, bloody and broken state there was no way that'd be good for either of them. Unfortunately that meant a public train was the next best option, not wanting to have to try and think upon an alternative. Public transport was not the most forgiving space for the victims of time traveling assassin madmen.

If things were not already unpleasant, the fact they had wound up on the train at the time that schoolchildren were on their journeys back home from their respective schools.

The train had, despite its many many flaws, been quiet enough to not be completely unbearable until then, and they had that to be thankful for at the very least. Well, this didn't last all that long at all, of course, as the empty seats were quickly filled with the enthusiastic children that were freed from the confines of school for the day, providing the exact opposite energy that the two superpowered adults were radiating like a fog.

If situations were better, then it would have been perfectly easy to just tune out the resulting sounds, but things were not better, and oh! the voices were so shrill, and so loud, and so determined to keep talking - "Did you do the homework in study? Can I copy?" "Can you believe him? Melony from shop class and Cassie from bio? What a prick!" "Share your food? C'mon please! Just one!" "Did you see the flash in the sky in first?" - no matter how many people happened to glance disapproving glances their way. There were too many kids compared to glances, and their enthusiasm serving as an impenetrable shield.
The voices were shooting daggers right into the aching Séance's still gently bleeding head, and he was wondering if it might be worth leaving and waiting until the next train. Had he been in a better state then perhaps a little supernatural mischief could bring about a bit of hush hush back into the train carriage, but his brain was more scrambled than usual, and so it was more effort than the reward would have been worth.
It was getting harder and harder to focus on trying to respark his nerve endings back to how they were supposed to be, and the frazzled Spaceboy was considering if it might have been worthwhile speaking up to request silence. Has his voice been stronger than it was, then perhaps he even would have done so, and yet it was as if he had not been able to regain his own voice as it was supposed to be. The train was no place for a man that had only just gotten over being dead, and it was no place for a man that had a degree of his humanity snatched away to maintain what little life he could have.

There was only a handful of stops left until they were close enough to the Academy to get off and head back home. Thankfully there was a payphone on the station, so they could give somebody a ring so they could get back home and try to get patched up as much as they could in the state they were in. Perhaps The Kraken was still out? Or maybe Allison was still out with her friends and could take a quick detour? If all was well, they would be able to hop of the train and get back to safety soon.