THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY
fractured || five hargreeves x reader

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: THERE'S ALWAYS A MONSTER INSIDE ALL OF US

Written By: peachyhxlland

°•.☆.•°

You spent years under Reginald and Abigail Hargreeves' care, enduring endless experiments and harsh training to master her powers. You felt trapped, believing your family was gone, leaving you isolated with nowhere else to go. Each morning, you would wake to the echoing sounds of Reginald's commands. The training grounds were unforgiving; every misstep was met with a stern lecture, every failure cataloged for future reference. You learned to control your powers with precision, but the cost was steep.

Abigail would sometimes visit you in the evenings, bringing with you a touch of humanity that Reginald's rigid routines lacked. She would sit by your side, offering gentle words of encouragement, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "You're stronger than you know," She would whisper. "One day, you'll find your way out of this."

Despite Abigail's kindness, the loneliness gnawed at you, carving deep fissures in your psyche. The constant testing, and the unyielding pressure to perform, began to take its toll. You felt like a caged bird, wings clipped, freedom a distant memory, just like when you were a kid. The solitude became a breeding ground for your bottled anger and frustration, emotions you had learned to suppress under Reginald's watchful gaze. The only thing that kept you a little sane was when you gained a new friend, Danielle, for a short period of freedom.

Late at night, when the mansion was silent and your thoughts the loudest, you began to feel a shift within you. It started as a whisper, a voice that was yours and knew every hidden fear, every unspoken rage. This other personality, a manifestation of your repressed anger, began to take form. You didn't give her a name because she looked a lot like you, but older—the age you would have been if you hadn't been experimented on in the first timeline. In the dark recesses of your mind, she thrived, feeding off your despair and discontent. Without saying it, you see her as your inner monster. The same monster that Reginald was saying back in the '60s.

"Everyone has monsters inside."

Your fists clenched as you heard Reginald's voice playing in your mind.

"You either release the monster and cause harm to everyone or keep it inside, fight it, handle it, to keep everyone safe."

There's always a monster inside all of us.

Your other self spoke in moments of weakness, her voice dripping with bitterness. "Why do you let them control you?" She would sneer. "Why endure their tests when you could break free?"

"I have nowhere else to go," You would respond, your voice trembling with a mix of defiance and resignation.

The cracks in your mental health widened as her influence grew. You found yourself slipping into its embrace sometimes during moments of intense pressure, your powers flaring uncontrollably, driven by the bottled rage that your other self embodied. 

The cracks in your psyche deepened, and your other self began to slip into control more frequently, often without you realizing. These moments were brief at first, a few minutes here, an hour there, but they grew in frequency and duration. Her cunning plans unfolded in secrecy, and soon, you found yourself waking up in unfamiliar places with no memory of how you got there.

It was during one of these episodes that your other self made contact with Dr. Gene and Jean Thibedeau. The couple, eccentric and brilliant, had long been fascinated with the concept of alternate timelines and dimensional rifts. She, using your body, approached them under the guise of a powerful figure capable of manipulating timelines. She called herself "The Boss," presenting fragments of evidence—documents, photographs, and recordings that hinted at the existence of other timelines.

When you finally became aware of your other self's dealings, you were horrified. The realization hit you hard—you were being used as a pawn in her elaborate scheme. Confronting your other self within the confines of your mind, you demanded answers. "What have you done?" You asked, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Your other self appeared, a smirk playing on her lips. "I've done what you couldn't. I've taken steps to fix everything."

"Fix everything?! Who have you been meeting, huh? What could you possibly be working on that could lead to any good?"

Your other self's expression softened, almost sympathetic. "I'm doing this for us. Don't you want to be happy? Don't you want your family back? Don't you want Papa Nico back?"

You froze as you heard Nico's name. You hesitated, the longing for your family tugging at your heart. "I-I do... but not like this. This isn't the way."

"Sometimes, to create something new, you have to break a few rules. Trust me, this can work. We can find a timeline where everything is perfect. Where you're happy. Where your family is there."

"And if it doesn't work? If it goes wrong?"

"Then we'll keep trying. We've already come this far."

Determined to regain control over your life, you sought out medications to suppress your other self, hoping to keep your other self at bay. The meds dulled her, allowing you to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Yet, despite the muted presence, your other self was still there, lurking in the recesses of your mind, waiting for any lapse in vigilance.

Your other self, though limited, remained cunning. It found ways to manipulate the moments when the medication's effects waned, seizing control of your body for short bursts. During these times, she continued her secret collaboration with Dr. Gene and Jean Thibedeau. The Thibedeaus marveled at the items she provided—artifacts, technology, and knowledge.

One evening, as you lay in bed, you began to sense the faint whispers of your other self again, despite the medication. "You can't keep me locked away forever," She murmured. "I'm a part of you. I'm the strength you need to see this through."

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling within you. "Shut up."

Her voice was soothing, almost persuasive. "We can create the world where you're happy... where we are happy. Don't you want that?"

You turned over, your eyes squeezed shut as you fought back tears. The promise of a perfect timeline was alluring, but the cost weighed heavily on your soul.

"The longer you resist, the sooner you'll break."

°•○●○•°

Your eyes stared into nothingness as you breathed heavily, the weight of the past few years pressing down on you. Memories flooded back, each more painful than the last—the relentless experiments, the grueling training, the isolation. Reginald had always insisted he was different from the other Reginald Hargreeves you and your siblings had known. But in the end, it was all the same, at least when it came to you. You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the rising tide of emotions, but the memories kept coming, relentless and unforgiving.

Reginald was just another version of the same tormentor, and you were left to endure, again and again.

The scene around you was eerily still, the silence broken only by a faint whimper from beneath the pile of bodies. The chaos of the ambush had faded, leaving behind only the quiet of death. You didn't react. You didn't care. The bodies were just numbers now, each one pushing you further into a place you barely recognized as your own mind. The Keepers had found you again, but they were the ones who ended up dead.

As you stood there, staring at the aftermath, you felt... nothing. The blood, the muffled cries—it should have made you feel something. Fear, guilt, horror—anything. But all you felt was emptiness. Your glowing red eyes, surrounded by dark red veins, stayed on them, but your mind was somewhere else, where the violence seemed distant, almost unreal. What once was a fight for survival had become a routine, a hollow act done out of habit. The line between defending yourself and killing without thought had vanished.

Your bloodstained hands trembled, not from regret, but from adrenaline that wouldn't fade. And then it hit you—you weren't just losing your enemies. You were losing yourself. The numbness wasn't just protecting you; it was showing how far you had drifted from being human.

Maybe the part of humanity you had left was locked away because of you, hidden in the deepest recesses of your mind. You closed your eyes, retreating inward. It used to be a place of light and warmth, but now it was dark, soaked in shades of red. There, you saw her—your kind other self—curled up on the cold floor, her eyes swollen from hours of crying.

"Come to gloat?" Your kind other self, the real (Y/n), asked, her voice trembling, barely holding back the weight of her sorrow. "Do you want me to ask again when are you going to stop?"

"Why ask such a question when you already know the answer," You, the inner monster, replied, your tone icy, devoid of any warmth.

"I didn't ask for this," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her despair. "I just want to go back to my family."

"We'll have them back," You answered, the words hollow, more a formality than a promise.

"You know that's not what I meant," she said, her voice breaking as she lowered her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm tired..."

She looked up at you, her gaze filled with regret and exhaustion. She wondered how she had let you, this hardened version of herself, take control. Once, she had been strong, keeping the darkness at bay. But now, she was a prisoner in her own mind, watching helplessly as you ruled their shared body with cold detachment.

"If only... if only I could have stayed stronger," She whispered, her words heavy with regret. "None of this would have happened. You wouldn't have happened."

Her lament echoed through the dark corners of your mind, a reminder of the battle that had been lost within you. She was the part that still cared, still longed for peace, now overshadowed by the part that had embraced the cold, unforgiving world.

Suddenly, your eyes snapped open at the sound of movement outside. The empty hallways stretched before you, silent and dim. Without hesitation, you reached out with your powers, commanding your mindless army to investigate the source of the noise. They shuffled off obediently, disappearing into the shadows.

With a flick of your hand, you used your powers again to pull the whimpering Keeper from beneath the pile of bodies. His screams pierced the air as he was lifted, dangling helplessly before you. His eyes widened in terror, filled with desperate, futile hope for escape. But your powers held him tight, wrapping around him like invisible chains, leaving him powerless to flee.

You stared at him, your expression cold and unfeeling, as if he were nothing more than a nuisance. Without a word, you raised your hand, and in an instant, his screams were silenced. A sharp crack echoed through the air as you blew his brains out, the blood splattering across your face. The headless body hung for a moment before you released your hold, letting it slump to the floor. You stood there, staring at the lifeless corpse, your face expressionless. The blood on your skin felt warm, but inside, there was only emptiness.

There was no going back. 

-•-°-•-°-☆

Hello! I hope you all enjoyed the quick flashback of (Y/n)'s time with Reginald and Abigail before she was able to reunite with her family. I saw a comment requesting a chapter like this, so I hope you liked it! It was bound to happen that I would write a sort of origin story about how (Y/n) finally cracked and how her other self emerged. I just couldn't find the perfect timing to write it until now, so I apologize for it taking thirty chapters to publish this.

Also, if anyone is confused about (Y/n), I apologize—I'm really trying to make it more clear. To clarify: (Y/n) has developed another personality that emerged from her negative emotions. It was briefly introduced in Book 2 but has fully taken shape in this book. (Y/n) is in a constant struggle for control over her mind and body, and after being abducted by the Thibedeaus, the other self takes over. The "you" now refers to the other personality/the other self since she takes control of the body, while the "real (Y/n)," referred to as "the kind other self," is locked away in her own mind. Does that make sense? I really suck at explaining I'm so so sorry.

Here is also a drawing that I did a few months ago lol (as well as the GIF that I made yesterday)

p.s. this (y/n) russell is my own fanart and not what she actually looks like !! (y/n) russell could be anyone and is based from anyone's description. you can base (y/n) from your own appearance or any description you want when you draw. if you choose to draw (y/n) russell from my books, you can do so to your liking and to whatever prefences you like. (y/n) is anyone you want to be.