THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY
fractured || five hargreeves x reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: I'M NOT A VENDING MACHINE FOR THE DEAD

Written By: peachyhxlland

°•.☆.•°

"Alright, folks. I'm opening the doors. But fair warning⸺sometimes they get a little rowdy."

Klaus stood in the middle of an old, abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, where he'd made his sanctuary. The space was vast and worn down, but it had its charm. Tables were scattered around, each holding candles, photos, and personal mementos of the dead. The room had an eerie glow as if the spirits felt at home there too.

Klaus stood at the center, dressed in a long, yellow, flowing coat, slightly worn but stylish, with layers of necklaces hanging over his chest. His hands, covered in silver rings, rest on an old wooden table. Around him are groups of people, some sitting on folding chairs, others standing, all watching him with a mixture of hope and dread.

"Welcome to my little afterlife shack," Klaus quipped with a grin. "Not much, but the spirits don't mind the lack of heating."

The crowd chuckled nervously, shifting in their seats and clutching photos and objects linked to lost loved ones. Klaus watched them for a moment, feeling the energy in the room⸺both from the living and the spirits lurking in the shadows.

Klaus was finally ready to fully embrace his powers, no longer running from the spirits that had haunted him his whole life. Instead of fearing the voices in his head, he now saw them as souls in need. He wanted to start small⸺help people who had lost loved ones and craved closure.

Klaus looked around. "Alright, who's first?" He asked calmly. "Let's see who's been dying to talk to you."

A man in his mid-40s, rugged and worn from the weight of unspoken grief, stepped forward hesitantly. His face was etched with deep lines, the kind that come from sleepless nights and tears that had long since dried on his skin. His hands trembled as he clutched an old leather wallet, its edges frayed and worn from being opened and closed too many times in search of comfort that never seemed to come.

"My son..." the man hoarsely began, his gaze dropping to the floor and his voice barely above a whisper, as though even speaking the words caused him pain. It was clear he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in a long time. "He... he passed a year ago. I just want to know he's still with us..." The man's breath hitched, and a tear slipped down his cheek, quickly wiped away with a trembling hand. "I miss him so much."

Klaus tilted his head, a soft hum escaping his lips as he scanned the room. The air grew heavier, and then Klaus' expression shifted, his eyes softening as he spoke. "You're talking about little Nathaniel, aren't you? He's been hanging around here, waiting for you to come by. Said something about that bike he never got to finish fixing with you. He misses it⸺misses you."

The man's breath caught in his throat, and his eyes began to fill with tears, the weight of years of grief suddenly crashing down on him. He nodded slowly, his fingers tracing the outline of the wallet. "That's him... God, that's him." His voice cracked as he struggled to hold back a sob. "Thank you."

With a quiet nod, Klaus took a deep breath and focused, calling forth the energy that connected this world with the next. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, and when they opened again, his hands glowed faintly. "I'll let you see him."

The man's eyes widened as Klaus used his powers. Soon, a figure of a little boy showed up. "Dad!" Nathaniel's voice broke through, thick with emotion. His face lit up with a smile, even as tears welled up in his eyes.

The man gasped, his hand flying to his mouth as he tried to comprehend the sight before him. "Oh, God... my sweet Nathaniel," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief and joy. Without hesitation, Nathaniel ran to his father. The man fell to his knees, arms reaching out, and Nathaniel embraced him.

Klaus stood back, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips as he watched the reunion unfold. "Alright," He said softly, his voice cutting through the moment without shattering it. "You two have five minutes to catch up. I'm afraid I can't keep him visible for too long."

The man nodded, his face streaked with tears, but his smile was radiant, filled with peace he hadn't felt in years. "Five minutes... is more than enough," He whispered, looking back at Nathaniel. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Klaus offered a quiet smile, gesturing for the next person. A young woman, hesitant yet drawn by the promise of connection, approached. Her eyes were wide with a mix of wonder and grief, her fingers nervously clutching a small, delicate bracelet. It was a simple piece of jewelry, but Klaus knew its significance ran far deeper than its appearance. His gaze flickered toward it shortly before he closed his eyes once more, channeling the energies that now felt so familiar to him with a newfound control.

Klaus took a deep breath. "Your sister's here," He said gently, his eyes still closed but his tone carrying the warmth of connection. "She says she hated that you took that bracelet... but she's glad you've kept it with you all this time." A faint smile crossed Klaus's lips. "She's proud of you, even though she'll never admit it out loud."

The woman gasped, clutching the bracelet tighter as tears spilled down her cheeks. She laughed through the sobs, nodding as she remembered the playful banter she used to share with her sister. "That's just like her," the woman whispered, her voice trembling. "Always too stubborn to say it, but I knew... I knew."

Klaus' confidence grew with each connection he made. The spirits have accepted him as one of their own, and the people are beginning to see him not as a screw-up or a misfit, but as a guide, someone who can give them a glimpse of closure, a whisper of peace in the storm of their grief.

He looked around the room, his soft smile returning. "Okay, who's next?"

A man in his 30s stepped forward, his face a mixture of shock and desperation. His wide eyes betrayed the disbelief he felt after witnessing the otherworldly moments unfolding in front of him. His hand twitched nervously as he stared at Klaus, unsure but driven by a longing that had haunted him for the past year. Klaus caught the man's gaze, offering him a nod of quiet understanding. He gestured for the man to speak.

The man hesitated, his voice wavering as he began, "M-My wife... she passed a year ago. I... I just need to know she's okay."

Klaus gave a reassuring nod, focusing as the room became eerily quiet once more. He closed his eyes, and the man's wife slipped into his body effortlessly. Klaus' whole demeanor changed as his posture straightened, his expression softened into something gentle, almost maternal. When he spoke, it was not Klaus' voice, but hers⸺soft, nurturing, and full of love.

"Hey, honey. I'm here," Klaus said, his voice gentle, a quiet smile playing on his lips. The words were full of comfort, as though the man's wife herself was speaking through Klaus. "You've been holding onto so much guilt, but you don't need to anymore. I'm at peace."

The man's breath hitched, tears rolling down his cheeks as he reached out, his hand trembling. For a moment, it felt like she was really there with him. Klaus, still possessed by the woman's spirit, moved gently, reaching out to touch the man's hand, offering that brief moment of connection.

"Live your life, love. I'll always be with you, but you need to let go. For both of us."

With a soft sigh, the spirit left Klaus' body. He exhaled sharply, his body shuddering slightly as he regained control, a faint tremor in his hands from the intensity of the experience. Klaus took a steadying breath, his own spirit a little shaken but calm, as he looked out at the crowd.

The air in the room was thick with emotion as whispers and murmurs rippled through the crowd, moved by the raw intensity of what they had just witnessed. People are now desperate to have their turn, but Klaus, sensing the overwhelming need, raised a hand, a playful but sincere smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, don't all rush me at once," he said, his usual humor returning. "I'm not a vending machine for the dead. We'll get to everyone, I promise... but these guys need to take it slow."

The energy in the warehouse shifted, lightening as Klaus continued connecting the grieving with their lost loved ones. Each interaction strengthened him, both in spirit and in purpose. The air hummed with a sense of calm, of release, as Klaus finally embraced his role, not just as someone who talks to the dead but as someone who helps the living.

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An overgrown, forgotten park just outside the city, bathed in the golden light of a setting sun. A rusty playground creaked in the distance, while Klaus stood in the center of a field surrounded by ghosts, each lingering with unfinished business. But Klaus wasn't grim. He was ready to guide them into the afterlife with his usual playful flair.

"Alright, alright. Gather 'round, my dearly departed! We're about to have ourselves a good ol' fashioned crossing-over party. And don't worry, you don't need to bring snacks. The afterlife's got a killer catering service," Klaus quipped, breaking the tension.

The spirits murmured, a mixture of confusion and curiosity on their faces. A ghostly old man in a bowler hat floated closer, skeptical. "What's so great about crossing over? Sounds like a long nap."

Klaus chuckled, gesturing to the glowing horizon. "Look, pops, I get it. The thought of moving on sounds like a snooze-fest. But trust me, it's more like the best spa day you could imagine, without the small talk."

A few spirits laughed nervously, and Klaus sensed the shift. He moved through them like it was second nature. "Haunting your old house is fun for a while, but let's face it, you've got eternity, and scaring the mailman's gonna get old." A young ghost giggled softly, warming to the idea. Klaus smiled. "Moving on isn't the end⸺it's an upgrade. You'll thank me later."

A ghostly woman in a wedding dress stepped forward, wringing her hands nervously, clearly torn between the light and her attachment to the world she's left behind. "But what if... what if we're not ready? What if there's something I forgot to do?"

Klaus sighed, but it's not exasperated⸺it's understanding. He walked up to her, his expression softening, though there was still that glint of humor in his eyes. "No one ever feels ready. But hanging around forever? It'll hold you back. And that dress? Not aging well in ghost years." She laughed, easing up, and Klaus took a step back, addressing the whole group now, his arms wide open. "You're not leaving everything behind⸺you're moving forward. The light? It's just 'see ya later,' not 'goodbye forever.'"

Some of the ghosts chuckled again, the mood lightening further. Even the old man in the bowler hat cracked a half smile. The woman smiled, and her form began to shimmer more brightly, as if she's finally starting to accept the idea of moving on. Klaus watched her for a moment, his grin softening into something more sincere.

The ghosts began to drift toward the light one by one. Klaus watched as the woman in the wedding dress let out a long, relieved sigh before her form began to dissolve into the glow. The old man tipped his hat to Klaus before following the others, his flickering form brightening as he went.

Klaus watched them, feeling the usual tug of exhaustion but also a warmth in his chest. As the last of the spirits drifted toward the light, Klaus clapped his hands together, turning back to the now-empty field.

"Tell the afterlife I said hi! And if they've got a minibar, save me a seat!" Klaus exclaimed and chuckled to himself, shaking his head, and turned to leave the field. For the first time, he felt at peace. Not just with his powers, but with the role he's finally embraced.

Klaus strolled away, hands in his pockets, whistling a tune as the last traces of the ghosts disappeared into the sky. Just as he was about to leave, a lone figure caught his eye, standing still a few feet away. It was a ghost, an old man in his 70s, his hunched shoulders giving away the years of life and wear. His hands were buried deep in his denim jacket pockets, and a blue baseball cap was pulled low over his brow, casting half his face in shadow. Though Klaus couldn't see the man's full expression, the air around him seemed heavy with sorrow.

"Listen, fella," Klaus called out, trying to keep his usual lighthearted tone. "I just finished helping some ghosts cross over into the light. But, if you're stuck, I can give you a hand too." He took a few steps forward, eyes scanning the old man's posture, noticing the way he shifted uneasily.

The old man shook his head slowly, refusing the offer. "I can't, Klaus. At least... I think not yet."

Klaus' playful grin faltered. He was taken aback, confused. He hadn't introduced himself to this ghost, and the spirits that came to him today had been strangers, people with no connection to his past. He hadn't seen this old man before, yet there was something about him⸺something that stirred a faint sense of recognition in Klaus.

"I'm sorry," Klaus said, his brow furrowing slightly. "I don't mean to be rude, but... do we know each other?"

The old man lifted a hand to his cap and removed it slowly, revealing more of his face. His hair was thin and white, his eyes tired but still sharp, and with a glint of recognition, as soon as Klaus got a good look at him, a wave of familiarity washed over him.

"I know you, Klaus," the old man said softly. "And I believe you know me too... especially my granddaughter."

"Oh... my God," Klaus whispered, his voice barely audible as he stared at the ghost before him. "Grandpa Nico?"

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A Klaus chapter because my boy deserved better in S4 :3