#If it was sparrow Ben who step out of the elevator why did he get to 'come back' but not Sloane???

[toamonster]

The umberella academy S3

I’m happy that the Hargreeves siblings finally got a good ending  (U‿‿U) ♡

But also: 

[stvrchaser]

second chances

( pairing ) : sparrow!ben hargreaves x umbrella!gn reader 

( about ) : the brellies lost ben, but the sparrows lost the reader. the two reunite, but ben doesn’t seem so eager to catch up.

( warnings ) : angst, they actually hate each other – ben is a pain in the ass, the reader is no better, no happy ending bc they never resolve the problem… happy reading!

( words ) : 1800

( note ) : the person who requested this scenario asked for angst and i took that personally… anyway, the dialogue popped up in my head and i just had to write it down. i didn’t specify whether the feelings are romantic or not, so it’s really up to interpretation. also, i think this is the first work i’ve written in the past tense… no clue why i did that but my brain just wouldn’t have it any other way. i hope you guys don’t mind (but please leave your thoughts. i might keep writing in past tense in the future, if you guys prefer it)

*** also im really sorry about any duplicated paragraphs below the cut! i have trouble with this every time but i just can’t seem to get the formatting right :(

People don’t change overnight — everyone knows that. A person is too complex to turn over a new leaf in such a short span of time. Still, you dared to hope.

Things had gone well last night, all things considered. With the influence of alcohol and some newfound optimism for the newly-weds, Ben Hargreeves — the one who seemed to suck the life out of everyone whose oxygen he breathed — had been surprisingly tolerable. You’d hoped for it to last.

A stupid assumption, really.

From the way he stepped out of the elevator, alone, you should have known better than to keep your hopes up.

“Hey. You’re awake,” you greeted him, careful not to sound too chipper. Every second spent with him was calculated; each step held the potential to destroy the progress you’ve made, if any.

“Hey. You’re awake,” you greeted him, careful not to sound too chipper. Every second spent with him was calculated; each step held the potential to destroy the progress you’ve made, if any.

Situated by the kitchen counter, you made the best of what you had to cure a hangover — just a variation of tea, coffee, milk, sugar, and water. You supposed it made sense that your options were so limited. One can’t exactly go grocery shopping when most of the world is in ruins. You poured Ben a cup of tea, anyway. “Is Klaus on his way down?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he snapped. Whatever had been left of you that hoped things would change for the better suddenly retreated. It was as if he’d taken a needle to puncture your hypothetical bubble.

“Oh.” You tried not to sound too bitter. “Sorry. I assumed you guys patched things up after last night. You were practically attached at the hip.”

“There’s nothing to ‘patch up.’ We don’t even know each other.” He was being particularly nasty, spitting words like venom. You refused to stoop down to his level.

“Here. Have some tea,” you offer, setting the cup in front of him. Then, to lighten the mood, you tried to joke. “I don’t think the timeline changed your tastebuds, too.” He didn’t react, at first.

Seconds later, the change in him was almost palpable. It flashed through his eyes and coursed through him with such intensity that you swore you felt something in him snap.

It made him furious that you knew he preferred to take tea over coffee. Even worse, you knew exactly how to brew it. Except, of course, you didn’t know how he takes his tea. He’d never told you that. Well, not this version of you. You knew how to make Ben – the other Ben – his tea. This was just another excuse to compare the two of them again.

“Could you idiots stop smothering me?” He pushed the cup aside, a trail of steam left in its wake. The familiar hint of bergamot was intoxicating. Haunting. It flooded his senses, and while its scent was something he normally welcomed, the circumstance had made it strangely unsettling.

“We’re just trying to get to know you.” That was familiar, too – the infuriating, confounding, expected tone of compassion. One he hadn’t heard in years.

“Take the hint! I don’t want to get to know you. Any of you. I was drunk last night. Klaus kept bothering me. If I was sober, I wouldn’t have—”

Your blood boiled with fury to match his own. The personal jabs at yourself were bad enough, but there was something about the insults directed elsewhere — toward Klaus, of all people — that was simply unacceptable.

“That’s not fair,” you cut him off, your voice suddenly changed. You didn’t sound quite angry, but determined to get your defense across. “Klaus was trying to—”

“I don't care!” His fists slammed against the counter, the teacup trembling as he did. It creates a ripple, resembling that of a storm and the strong wind which might disturb the sea. Had you not been in the eye of the storm, it might have been mesmerizing. “It doesn’t seem like the rest of your siblings do, either. It’s just you and Klaus. You can stop pretending to give a shit. Maybe that’ll get him off my back.”

“Fine,” you surrendered. You meant it this time. “I’ll leave you alone. Just… go easy on Klaus, alright?” But Ben’s mouth kept plowing through your patience, like he didn’t believe you were willing to admit defeat so easily.

That was one thing they didn’t have in common, this stranger and your friend. Your Ben would have been smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“You don’t even know me. I’m not your Ben. I’m not pathetic—”

“Stop it.” Your rage punctured through your patience, bleeding out in continuous droplets, steady like the ticking of a clock. “You can say whatever you want about the rest of us, but I won’t let you ruin what we have left to remember him by. Everybody loved Ben. And the fact that they were trying to get to know you meant they could have loved you, too.” You stopped yourself to draw a breath, to express your disbelief and to keep your voice steady. “Hell, they probably still do. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been a dick this entire time. Right now, you’re the closest thing we have.” The explanation only upset him.

“You sure have a fucked up way of showing it. When you walked into the Academy, what were you planning to do? Erase us out of existence? And now that you can’t do that you’re trying to play nice so we’ll do whatever you say? You don’t love me — whatever that means to you people. You probably didn’t even love your Ben.”

You had the urge to send the steaming cup flying into him so that he might feel the way his words burn. You settle and retaliate in the closest fashion.

“I’m not playing some sort of game here. We’re not trying to manipulate you into believing that you’re better off on our side. You have a family. I get that. But have you considered that, maybe, it’s so difficult to believe that we loved you in another timeline because you’ve never felt loved like that here?” Ben tensed, and you knew he considered the possibility. You knew you hurt him, too.

“You’ll say anything to convince me, won’t you?”

Maybe you would have. Maybe, you would stoop so low to exploit his grief just so he could acquaint himself with the guilt and misery you’ve suffered — agony he couldn’t care less about unless, perhaps, he learned to suffer it too.

“You want proof? All of us left the Academy the moment we could. It didn’t matter that we had nothing to our name or… or that didn’t know anything about the world. We left because there wasn’t any reason to stay. But we fell apart way before that. Do you know why? It’s because one of us died. Our Ben died. It was bad enough when Five disappeared, but at least we could hope he was somewhere out there. We could hope that we might see him again. We buried Ben’s body. And we were so distraught that we let it tear us apart. We would have done anything to have him back, even for just a day. We still want to, to make up for every year we wasted when he was around and didn’t prove to him that we loved him. We would do anything to make up for every year we’ve grieved after we lost him. If you’d just give us the chance, we could show you.”

“No! You leave me out of this. You fucked up the first time around. That’s on you. I’m not gonna be your second chance or whatever to make you feel better about yourselves. You’re just upset because we pulled ourselves together.”

His words struck hard, leaving lacerations the size of rivers in jagged topography. Had the damage been physical, you were sure it would have bled you to death. But it wasn’t. Somehow, that made it worse.

Somehow, bearing the truth in mind prolonged a bleeding heart. And it wouldn’t stop so long as you lived.

“You know what, you’re right. I’m pretty fucking upset about that, too.” Ben looked surprised. You thought it might have been the only expression you’d ever seen on him, aside from bitterness. “I died in this timeline, didn’t I? I died for the same reason you did. But look at all of you.” You might have laughed. Or sobbed. But a noise escaped you for just a split second, and Ben seemed to realize what you were suggesting. “The Sparrow Academy stays standing, even after what happened to me, didn’t it? I’m the one you didn’t care about.”

“Don’t turn this around.”

“No,” you hiss through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to belittle my family because we miss our brother. You don’t get to think you’re so much better when the only reason you’ve gotten this far is because you don’t give a shit about anyone else.” You let your tears fall, but your demeanor never faltered, not even as you approached him, eyes ablaze. “Being cold and heartless might have given you an upper hand, but that does not make you better than me.”

He leaned closer, still seated on the stool. Mocking. With only a marble countertop setting you feet apart, the end of the world wasn’t consuming the rest of the world outside. 

Damn the Kugelblitz, really. The end of the world should have started in that room.

“No, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re all weak. You never stood a chance. You were always going to fall apart.”

“At least I’m trying to get it together. I’m trying to piece my family back together. I tried to get to know you because I thought, somewhere in there, I could find Ben. My Ben. I just wanted my family whole again. But you? You don’t even care that I’m here.”

He shouldn’t, he thought. It didn’t matter that you and the Y/N he knew had so much in common — more than he and the other Ben, anyway. You weren’t the same. Not really. You never would be.

“Because you’re not Y/N. They would have never been so pathetic.” 

You let out a laugh, dispensed in short breaths, each of which seemed to force him to sink lower into his seat.

“And I’m sure they trusted you with their life, didn’t they?” 

Your voice sounded patronizing, but held a greater cruelty than you imagined. While impossible to envision, you had meant to this stranger as much as Ben had meant to you. Suggesting that the sentiment wasn’t returned… 

Well, it would haunt him as Ben’s death haunted you. 

“I’m sure they felt comfortable enough, safe enough, to be vulnerable around you. A cold, selfish bastard.”

“You don’t know anything,” his voice trembled. He looked pale. Undone.

Distraught.

You delivered the final blow.

“I know that no version of myself would have ever trusted, much less loved, someone like you.”