Josie didn’t know much about Billy, other than the obvious. He wasn’t given the closure he needed from his mother, so he sought her out. He had a blatant disregard of all their current foster home attempted to do for him. And he was a bit of a loner. At least they had something in common.
There had been a great deal of commotion after school had gotten out and Billy hadn’t returned home with Josie and Natalie, another foster child who was in the same grade. It was 9 pm when their disgruntled foster mother returned with Billy following stubbornly behind her. Despite her lecturing, she heard him ascend the stairs to the bedrooms. Picking her gaze out of her book, Josie watched as he practically stomped into his room across the hall.
She carefully closed the book and rested it on her bed before quietly stepping across the floor to his room. Leaning against the doorframe, she offered a timid smile. “If you’re going to roam around, you should really wait until the weekend. Say you’re going to the library or something. Just make sure you’re back before curfew.”
This wasn’t Josie’s first group home. This was, however, the first time she felt understood by her foster parents. Victor and Rosa had informed her of their similar past. It was a welcomed change. The others in the home didn’t seem all too bad, either. No glaring trouble-makers that would make her time there difficult. Darla had been excited to meet her. Eugene was far too invested in his game. Pedro had offered a silent, but welcoming smile. And Mary had been quick to play the role of a big sister.
The couple decided it’d be best if she shared a room with Mary in the end. Darla would likely talk her ear off into the night. Giving her space to settle in before dinner, she was left alone with her three bags of belongings. One for clothes. One for books. And one for personal keepsakes. Once she felt as settled as she was going to be for the time being, she decided to take a tour around the second floor. Eventually, she found herself peering into a room filled with an array of superhero memorabilia. Cautiously, she pushed past the door, stepping silently along to get closer to a cut out article on Superman. She hadn’t even noticed the boy who inhabited the space. Not until the creaky floorboards gave him away. She jumped a bit, anxiously spinning around to face him. Her eyes were wide, like a deer caught in the headlights. “I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know this was...sorry...”
Josie had thought back to the foster families she had been part of in the past. There were a handful of people she mourned greatly, knowing it was likely they hadn’t survived. There had been a few instances in her past where she felt part of something bigger. A real family. But those moments had been fleeting and they had been torn apart by extenuating circumstances that no one had any control of. But other than death, there was nothing that she believed could pull the two of them apart. He promised he wouldn’t leave without her, and she trusted him. While they might take time apart when they find they need space, Josie was sure they’d always come back together. He was going to be her family. And she hoped she could be the same for him.
There wasn’t much to tell about her own past. It was a typical sob story. A sad, lonely girl in a world that never truly brought her into a home for longer than a few months. But he had a longer, more consistent history. She nodded along, knowing the truth about survival. You did what you had to do to make it out on the other side as unscathed as possible. There were plenty of things she had done in the past to survive a handful of homes she had been placed in. She gave him a gentle look, shaking her head. “I don’t think you’re an asshole, Five. I don’t think I ever could. You did what you had to do because of the situation you were in. You know it wasn’t right. You’re not ignoring what you did wrong. Acknowledging your mistakes proves that you’re not an asshole. You were just trying to survive the only way you knew how.”
“I think survival was key in that place.” He managed to let go of it. It wasn’t a very obvious reason to why he ran away in the first place—no, that was to prove a point, that he was ready to time travel after all. But, he only had himself to blame for the repercussions. Before that, he knew his father needed to be held responsible for allowing such ignorance in the house. Five couldn’t forget what he had done, what all of them had done to lead Vanya to writing this book, but even as he had glanced to the back cover as it sat on the ground, she looked so much older, so much wiser, so much lonelier. His family hadn’t changed their ways, even as they were allowed so much more time together.
Sighing again, he rubbed at his forehead before taking a seat o the makeshift chairs out of spare parts they could find, trying to rest another moment while he still could. “When I was younger, I began to believe that I would grow up to be just like him, just like my father, that’s why I started to try to do my own things. I didn’t want to be like him, I didn’t want to be just another loyal soldier to him.” And that’s how he ended up where he was now, because he didn’t listen, he thought to himself. “I’ve got to find a way to get back.”
“It sucks when kids our age have to think about how to survive. We shouldn’t be subjected to adapting to a life where we need to make rash and difficult decisions based on how they’ll be perceived by others. I wish we both lived lives where the biggest decision we had to worry about was where to sit in a cafeteria.” Despite how little he divulged to her, it was evident that they grew from very similar trees. They didn’t worry about trivial things, like electronics or appearances. They both took this new world better than a handful of kids that Josie had been tormented by in school...at least, that’s what she could assume. She looked at the photograph of his sister. It was bizarre to realize that he should’ve been 29 years old. But at least it felt a bit more equal with them being the same age. Less like he had to protect her, and more like they could look out for each other.
Josie took a seat nearby, keeping her eyes glued to him as he worked through his personal expectations. “From what you told me, your father was a monster. You’re not a monster. You wanted to prove yourself. You’re not a puppet. You wouldn’t be here if you were.” She insisted, pressing her lips together after a moment. Eventually, she offered a small smile in his direction. “Well, you have the rest of your life to figure it out. I’ll help anyway I can.”
For Josie, adapting to a new home was never this easy. It typically took her a week on average to feel comfortable in her new dwellings, always careful not to speak out suddenly or run her mouth too much. But here, with Vanya, she was finding herself fitting in better than ever before. If it were possible for her eyes to grow wider, they would have. “You used to write? What did you write? Did you get published?” Her questions were rapid-fire. Excitable, without any pause. “I don’t have a lot of money…ever. I usually just go to libraries…” She explained bashfully, though she was never ashamed of using libraries.
She walked herself into that one. “Oh, I…. wrote an autobiography,” she says. “Kind of. My family was part of this…. I guess kinda’ superhero academy? The Umbrella Academy. But they all had powers and I just…. didn’t. So it was about what it was like to grow up there with them. Yeah, it got published. I know a few bookstore owners from doing signings around the neighborhood, so they let me hang out there whenever.” She nods. “We’ve got a library two stops on the bus from here. We can go around the neighborhood tomorrow if you feel like it, get you a better lay of the land.”
Though Vanya played it off as an uninteresting feat, Josie was enthralled with all she had accomplished. She was in an orchestra and was a published author. How was that not noteworthy? “That’s amazing. Not a lot of people get published.” While she was interested in the Umbrella Academy, she found herself more interested in the life that Vanya lived under the same roof. “That sounds really nice. Libraries have always been my safe place, y’know? Somewhere I can get peace of mind.”
I got to love a man with my all.
I may not be a mother to my own flesh and blood.
I got to be a mother to children who needed one.
I could not ask for a better life.
Lydia Clayton - Indie TUA OC - Happily Married to Henry Clayton
Mother of the Lost Children
loved by La
"Uh, hey Josie? You didn't move the coffee table did you?" Theo asked as he limped in the direction he thought was the kitchen where he'd heard her voice last. - @traveledbysound
The moment Josie heard the thud in the living room, she knew her mistake. She winced as he limped in, wringing her hands gently. “Yeah, Theo. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. Marco was playing and I didn’t want him to run into it...shit...I’m sorry.” While she knew no one could truly blame her for putting her son’s safety first and foremost, she still felt as though she had wronged Theo on some level. “I’ll get an ice pack.” She announced quickly, heading straight for the refrigerator. “I really didn’t mean to throw you off like that. I swear.” Josie continued to insist as she found a dish rag to wrap around the freezing cold pack.
"Josie, sweetheart can you come help me with dinner?"
Josie was always so thankful that Marco was such an easy kid. Quiet and kind, he always found something to do to pass the time. It always made helping around the house so much easier for his mother. Reassuring herself that he was focused on his coloring, Josie quickly made her way to the kitchen, offering her mother a warm smile. “Of course. What do you need me to do?” She was always quick to lend a hand. Her parents had raised her to be kind and helpful, but she always wanted to go the extra mile for them. With her dad’s deteriorating memory and the fact that she had arrived with her son out of the blue a few years ago, she always felt as though she owed it to them to help out as often as she could. “What’s on the menu for the night?” She asked as she washed her hands at the sink, ready to take orders.
under the cut is a tua verse for josie (based on show, “mainverse”)
when abigail chevalier gave birth to her daughter on october 1st, 1989, she had adored the newborn immediately. she made countless promises to the infant to protect her and love her and care for her. when reginald hargreeves arrived to offer a check in return for her daughter, she quickly declined. perhaps josie was lucky that she had turned him away so quickly. it kept him away from her, even after abigail died within a few days. with no next-of-kin to speak of for abigail, josephine was quickly put into the foster system. and there she stayed until she could no longer stay.
part of the reason josie was never adopted had been because she was so incredibly off-putting. She would say the things her foster parents were thinking, and it never sat quite well. foster siblings thought she was a freak. It was when she read ‘matilda’ that she felt things truly making sense. she had powers and needed to learn how to control them. josie trained herself with her abilities.
later in life, after aging out of the system, josie was lucky enough to get a full-ride scholarship to a college on the east coast. she got a degree in english and got a job at a publisher. she eventually even met a man who adored her as much as she adored him. she and kevin thompson were deeply in love, and she gave birth to their child when she was twenty-six. a beautiful boy named marco that kevin only ever met over skype. he died shortly after while he was deployed.
josie does what she can to support her and her son. she wants to provide the life that she always wanted for marco.
below the cut is the about for josie’s tua verse (mainverse w/ ties to @traveledwithher & @traveledwithhim!!!)
Abigail Chevalier went into labor on October 1st, 1989. The only problem? Abigail hadn’t been pregnant beforehand. Volunteering in a hospital was likely the best thing she could’ve been doing, as she was quickly rushed to the ER, where they discovered she was giving birth. To help with the pain, someone hurriedly gave her a pain killer. She gave birth to her daughter, Josephine, shortly thereafter. She was able to give her daughter a name before her body began to go into shock. Her body went through a lethal allergic reaction to the pain killer she was given. She had no idea. She passed away at the eighth minute after Josie’s birth.
As the medical staff attempted to contact Abigail’s next of kin, finding that her family had disowned her, a man and woman came to the hospital. Without hesitation, they offered to take in the newborn, quickly becoming her legal guardians. Henry and Lydia Clayton were taking in as many children as they could before their close acquaintance, Reginald Hargreeves, could adopt them all. He was attempting to create a team of well-trained superheroes, never once giving them the chance to be children. The couple firmly believed that the children should be nurtured and raised with love. And that’s exactly what they planned on with Josie.
Josie Clayton was raised with the other adopted children, never numbered, never punished. It was around the time she was almost five that her abilities began to surface. During “school”, she began to know the answers to every question that was poised. At first, it was believed that she was incredibly intelligent. She did read many books for a girl her age. But eventually, it became clear that it was something different. She was a telepath, reading the minds of those around her. It came easily to her, and she could read the minds of others without much of an effort put forth. However, the real issue seemed to lay in her ability to turn it off and block out thoughts. She quickly became overwhelmed by the number of thoughts she could hear while in a crowd, and often kept her gaze down, allowing her to block out voices with more ease.
The years wore on and Josie gained control of her abilities. Sometimes, while caught off guard, she might not be able to block out every thought around her, but it certainly isn’t as loud as it used to be. Upon receiving a high school diploma, she applied for a school off on the East Coast and was quickly admitted. There, she studied English. While she didn’t want to truly leave the Claytons, she knew she needed to fly the nest. And that’s exactly what she did. She ended up getting a job at a publishing company. When she was twenty-four, she met a man named Kevin Thompson, who was active duty in the army. While he was deployed, she gave birth to their son, Marco Henry Thompson. Kevin was able to see his son over Skype before he was tragically killed in an accident while overseas. Josie was twenty-six.
Following the death of her boyfriend, Josie took Marco back to live with her adoptive parents. Deciding it better to rely on her family than attempt to do it all on her own, she took a job much closer to her parents’ home. While she believed it was important to support yourself, she wanted to be with her family again. They did such a good job raising her. She hopes she can do the same for Marco.
All the anxiety she had felt about living in a one-on-one foster home began to melt away more and more as the moments passed. They had similar temperaments and interests. “I’d really like that.” She spoke softly, looking at Vanya with a gaze that was wide but warm. “I bet you’re a really good teacher.”
She smiles. “Good,” she says, feeling oddly proud of herself for putting Josie at ease. She hasn’t been in her home for that long, after all, and she thinks this might be a record or something for a kid coming into a new home. “I mean, I hope I am. I would be pretty useless if I wasn’t. Teaching’s just about the only thing I’ve ever done. I used to write, but that was sorta’…. short-lived.” She glances over at her bookshelf. She’s not really sure why she’s got a copy of her own book, except perhaps a fleeting feeling of narcissism. She looks back at Josie. “You said you like to read, though, right? I know some good bookstores around here.”
For Josie, adapting to a new home was never this easy. It typically took her a week on average to feel comfortable in her new dwellings, always careful not to speak out suddenly or run her mouth too much. But here, with Vanya, she was finding herself fitting in better than ever before. If it were possible for her eyes to grow wider, they would have. “You used to write? What did you write? Did you get published?” Her questions were rapid-fire. Excitable, without any pause. “I don’t have a lot of money...ever. I usually just go to libraries...” She explained bashfully, though she was never ashamed of using libraries.
• things i’ve done before: had alcohol | smoked | stolen | done drugs | self-harmed | starved | had sex | had a threesome | had a one-night stand | gotten into a fist fight | gone to infirmary | gone to jail | used a fake ID | played hooky | gone to a rave | killed someone | had someone try to kill them
tagged by: the lovely @mvndrvke
tagging: genuinely anyone!!!!!
kaledo-art
prguitarman
romaincrisis
jbbartram-illu
ellievsbear
blakekathryn
janainaart
