The bruise was now starting to form on my cheek. No longer just a red mark, but the purple pigments were now starting to seep through my skin. At least I only walked away with a bruised cheek, the other men had broken noses, wrists, even a knee cap or a shoulder. I went lightly on them. They deserved a hell of a lot more than what I gave them.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I gently placed my fingertips on the slowly forming bruise, pressing lightly. Hissing in pain. Yep, that one is going to hurt for a while. The words the men spoke, still echoed in my head like a nightmare.

"This isn't the end!" One of the men spoke, before they ran off into the black SUV. I obviously didn't catch the number plate, but I had a feeling, with the black and white suits, and the black SUV, these men were the normal men loitering in the streets at night.

Opening the mirror cabinet hanging on the wall in my bathroom, I grabbed the painkiller gel, squeezing a pea sized amount onto my finger, before massaging onto my skin. This would help with the pain. Putting the gel away, I looked into the mirror, staring at myself, before shaking my head and turning off the light, heading straight to the kitchen. Passing the living room, I grabbed the television remote and turned it on, the screen coming to life, before I disappeared into the kitchen. After what I went through, I needed a fizzy drink and some junk food. My type of healing food. Not a tumbler of whiskey.

'Breaking News! Billionaire Sir Reginald Hargreaves has passed away…the billionaire who adopted eight children, whom all were born suddenly from mother's who weren't pregnant the previous day. The seven children he raised, became the children of the Umbrella Academy…'

My thumb and index finger were clasped around a salt and vinegar stick, paused in that moment. I just felt, stuck. Shoving the crisp into my mouth, I quickly left the kitchen and entered the living room.

It was true. He was finally dead. His old wrinkly bearded face on the television, wearing his monocle, staring right at me. My wish had finally come true. No tears fell, no heart break, just…just happiness, a smile appearing on my face.

He was dead. Yes!

I gently placed my finger on my cheek, pressing lightly, feeling the pain radiating through my skin. I wasn't dreaming. This was real.

Reginald Hargreaves was finally dead. Grabbing the television remote, I switched the channel over onto a music channel, before turning to my window in my apartment. The city sky line of Hamilton staring at me. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, staring at the screen. An email, from mom.

Not our real mom. Just a robot who cared for us, because that man never had a caring bone in his body.

Opening the email, I couldn't help but scoff. She was arranging a funeral to say goodbye to our father, which meant going back to the house. Seeing everything, the house, the people, him.

I hadn't seen him since…well I lost count. It was a long time ago. And now I would see him again. Diego. Number Two. Things ended badly between us, and we hadn't seen each other since.

Shaking my head of thought, I put my phone away. Should I go? Waste my time for an old man who took all my child hood away? Or dance and spit on his grave? Say a fuck you old man!

Yes. I would go.

Happiness spread through my body, before I headed to the bathroom to let the shower water cascade down my body, as I sung to an invisible concert in the shower. This was my type of celebration. I would phone my boss and tell her I need time off for the funeral, use my holiday up. She wouldn't be happy enough to let me go, after all, I was saying goodbye to daddy dearest.

A day later…

My boss was more than happy to let me take some time off. A week maximum, they needed their best fashionista behind the desk soon. Though she was also confused, as I always told them my father was a piece of nothing, I told them I was going back for my family.

Of course, they knew who I was, and what I did when I was a teenager. Wearing those masks, fighting bad guys, red glowing hands. But that wasn't me no more. I was Lexi Hargreaves…I should really change my last name. It gave it away who I was.

The taxi finally pulled up outside the house. The Umbrella Academy. Where eight children were raised, with no actual childhood. Just taught and used on how to use their abilities to fight crime, while he sat back and did nothing.

Sometimes I wished, Diego would just throw a blade at him, end the torture.

Paying the taxi man, I got out of the car and stared at the doors. Umbrella symbols on the glass doors screaming The Umbrella Academy. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the door and gently opened it. The doors becoming two small doors, the giant stair case leading up to another floor and then another. The huge chandelier hanging on the ceiling in the hallway, this screamed an entrance.

"Ah, Miss Lexi, you came" I turned my head seeing Pogo. Some would say a family pet, but he…he was more like a father, just hairier.

"I couldn't miss this opportunity, Pogo" I smiled at him before he continued to look at me. "What?" I asked him.

"Nothing, Miss Lexi. You just…have changed a lot" he smiled "I see you have decided to decorate your body with ink and jewellery"

"Let's say it's my way of healing" I explained "When people look at me, they recognise me as Number Zero, one of the Hargreaves children. Plus, with our father, I needed to make myself better, distract people from who I was"

"I don't blame you Lexi" Pogo nodded.

"Is anyone else here?" I asked him.

"Yes, Luther is here, the rest will hopefully be on their way" he informed me.

"Okay…I'll be up in my room" I told him, heading up the large stair case, finding my room in this maze of a house.

Looking at the wooden door of my bedroom, I placed my hand around the door knob, slowly twisting before pushing the door open. My room was spotless, and just how I left it. The sound of heels clicking caught my attention.

"Do you like it?" I quickly turned around and saw mom behind us. Grace. The robot, android, what ever you wanted to call her. She still looked the same, same smile, same hair, same red lip stick. Same caring side, that was never going to be erased.

"Did you do this?" I asked her, looking around my room.

"Of course, keeps me busy, plus I do enjoy looking at the memories of my children" she spoke in her kind happy voice. "Let me look at you" She asked me. Turning around to face her, she observed my face, then stood back and looked at my body. "You're all grown up" she smiled brightly, her white teeth showing.

"Well that's what happens when you finally move out and get all those years back you lost" I told her. Her face fading.

"If I could give you a child hood to remember, I would, my dear"

"Mom. Trust me, I do have a child hood to remember, I'm trying to forget it…it's not your fault" I told her. "We just have to move on".

Mom nodded at me and placed her hand on my cheek, before she frowned and removed her hand.

"What?" I asked her.

"You're in pain…your facial expressions gave it away…my dear what happened?" she asked me, concerned.

"Just some men, who thought they could take advantage of me. I defended myself" I told her "I just have a bruise to remember" I sighed to myself.

"You will have to make sure Diego is careful with you, we all know how protective he is of you" Mom commented, but I frowned.

"Diego?" I asked confused. But realised something. They didn't know. "Mom…Diego and I…we've gone our separate ways…a long time ago…he moved on last time I checked" I mumbled. And the last time I checked, it hurt.

"Oh my dear…I'm so sorry…I know how much he cared for you…I hope you find happiness one day" she smiled "I'll be downstairs, I'll make some cookies and drinks for when the rest arrive" she nodded, clasping her hands together, before walking off. I closed the door behind me, but not completely.

Shaking my head, I walked over to my bedside table, opening the top drawer, the first thing I see was the mask we had over our eyes. To protect our identity, it's like Superman wearing glasses, you can still see the rest of your face. Shaking my head, I threw the mask in the bin behind my door, before rummaging through. Finding the polaroid picture of Diego and I. The last day at the Academy before we both moved out together. I guess because we were no longer under Reginald's control, maybe it was something for him to find, and have a heart attack over. It was forbidden under his house hold, like everything else was. I then found a red journal, a gift from mom. To write our feelings and thoughts down, or even our day. She thought it was a sentimental gift, a way of screaming our feelings out on paper. She knew growing up in the household wasn't easy.

Standing up and flicking through the pages, I heard the creek of my door slowly opening, looking around I spotted an empty vase that once had flowers in, either from mom or Diego, to brighten up my room. Creating a small red glow around the vase, the same glow emitting from my hands, I quickly threw the vase towards the noise, knowing someone was there, but before I could allow the vase to break against that person, I stopped it in front of Diego. Our eyes locked.