Chapter Text
The Umbrella Academy didn't celebrate Mother's Day when they were kids.
It wasn't that they hated Grace.
Or that they didn't see her as a mother.
It was just that, for the first few years of their life, they didn't know what mother's day—or most other holidays, to be honest—were.
Their father didn't care about silly nonsensical things such as holidays. They were unimportant. Trivial. Something the kids didn't need.
They didn't get to believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, or the Tooth Fairy. They didn't get to go trick-or-treating when they were young or to run down the stairs on Christmas morning to find presents under the tree. On Easter Sunday, there were no eggs hidden in the garden.
They had no feasts on Thanksgiving.
They didn't dress in green on Saint Patrick's Day or get Valentines on Valentine's Day. They didn't grill out on July 4th (though they did watch the fireworks from their bedrooms in wonder).
They didn't celebrate any of them.
They didn't celebrate New Years Eve or Kwanzaa or Hanukkah or participate in Día de Muertos.
No holidays were celebrated in the Hargreeves House, and, thus the Umbrellas spent a good portion of their early years not even knowing that such things existed—and Mother's Day, of course, was no exception.
And after they became aware of its' existence?
When they were old enough to be called young adults but not before the six of them because five?
Well, they tried.
They were nicer to her on that day. More helpful. More well-behaved.
Luther, Diego, and Five didn't bicker the usual amount.
Ben didn't read at the table.
Viktor played her a new piece.
Allison complimented her.
They tried to make her things, like they had done when they were little.
They tried.
But it was never as good as Grace probably deserved.
Then Five disappeared.
The 'No-Fighting on Mother's Day' became harder to enforce with neither Luther nor Diego knowing when to call it quits.
Viktor's player was a little quieter, a little less filled with life.
Ben still didn't read at the table but struggled to pretend like he still gave a fuck.
And Allison's compliments became rehearsed.
Four years passed.
Mother's Day came and started off like the past six had.
Ben didn't read at breakfast.
Luther and Diego behaved.
Allison complimented Grace.
Vanya played her a new piece.
They gave her cards.
And then the mission alarm went off.
And five became four.
That was their last mother's day.
Allison wasn't big on Mother's Day when she became a mother.
She didn't think she deserved to be celebrated.
Not after what she did to Klaus.
And she couldn't stand to be near Claire.
Couldn't stand to hold her. To kiss her. To play with her and spend extended time with her.
She was afraid to.
Afraid that she would once again lose her temper and say those eight little words that ruined her life so many yeard ago.
"I heard a rumor that you didn’t exist."
So she insisted to Patrick that they didn't need to celebrate Mother's Day.
She didn't need flowers, cards, or any other fancy gift. She just wanted it to be like every other day.
And for the first four years of Claire's life, it was.
And then Claire went to school, and returned with a handmade mother's day card that Allison was forced to take with shaky hands and a forced smile that Patrick could see right through.
The card went up on the fridge, like all of Claire's drawings.
Patrick asked for a divorce before Claire could make her another one and only then did Allison yearn for the little trinkets that children made specifically for their mothers every year in places that celebrated it. But by then, it was too late.
No Mother's Day card would come in the mail.
And no tiny hands would wake her up in the middle of the night again, asking for another story.
Allison had lost Klaus and it haunted her.
And that secret haunted her marriage until it no longer existed.
It was fitting, in a way.
Allison wished it wasn't.
When she was in the sixty, Allison didn't have a child to celebrate her on Mother's Day nor did she have a Mother to celebrate.
Still, she awoke on Mother's Day to a card, a teddybear, and a box of chocolates from Ray along with a note from him telling her that he loved her and that he knew it wasn't the same but he hoped that it still brought her some comfort while he was away at work.
She spent the rest of the day crying into the bear and when Ray returned, she gave him the biggest hug she'd ever given anyone in her life before sitting him down and finally telling about her family.
About the holidays left uncelebrated.
About the abuse and how her siblings and her were raised to be competitive.
About her mother who was trapped and couldn't leave, and who never got celebrated the way she deserved.
She told him how they never got to be children.
How their father hadn't adopted them because he loved them, but because they were an experiment to him.
Allison told him about how her brother, Klaus, had vanished after a fight between the two (leaving out how). How Five had run away and didn't come back until they were much older. How Ben had died far too young because of their father.
She told him about how she felt like she had failed Claire and her first husband.
She told him how nowhere had ever felt like home before him and how she felt as if she was always putting on a show.
And Ray held her through it all and assured her that she wasn't a monster.
That what happened in her childhood wasn't her fault.
And how one day, she would get to make everything up to her mother, siblings, daughter, and herself.
Through sick and through health.
Through poverty and through wealth.
That was what they had promised and Ray had clearly meant it.
And for the first time in a long time, Allison was starting to believe she deserved it—and then her siblings showed up.
A giggle woke her.
"Shhh Uncle Klaus, you're going to wake mommy!" Claire scolded through her own giggles.
But Klaus just couldn't contain himself. "I can't help it, I'm excited! I've never done this before!"
That should probably worry Allison, but since Ray wasn't beside her, she didn't let it.
"You're gonna spoil the surprise!"
Ray spoke up then. "Careful, Claire or you'll drop the tray."
Allison closed her eyes and smiled to herself, before turning back on her side and pretending that she was still asleep.
There was no reason to let them know they'd woken her just yet.
She could let them have this moment.
They deserved it, after all.
And she was sure that she would enjoy whatever chaos they were about to bring her way.