Umbrella Academy Fic (Luther, M) - SPOILERS!

[Spoo]

I've wanted to write an Umbrella Academy fic since the first season aired, but the timeline they worked with was wonky and made canon events hard to change around (for sickfic purposes, I mean). Then season 2 happened and I saw my opportunity. That being said, there will be mild SPOILERS for the second season if you haven't seen it yet. Nothing too crazy, I'll admit, but enough to know what Luther has been up to since the season 1 finale.

That being said, I  fully realize that this particular character has made some serious mistakes, but please don't throw your hate into this thread regarding his actions. All of the Hargreeves kids are incredibly traumatized, and they don't always express said trauma in healthy, feasible ways. 

Lastly, this takes place before season 2 starts and features a sick, cold-ridden Luther. Enjoy! :D 

~*~

Jack Ruby took one look at his prized fighter and felt torn between shaking his head and ordering the big lug to get the hell out of his club and into a bed. Granted, it was well before the place welcomed clientele for the night, but he didn’t want Luther sticking around in his current condition regardless. Jack eventually settled for a straightforward response. 

“I can’t have you in here like this,” he said, ripping off a piece of his bologna sandwich and holding it downward. The dachshund seated on his lap took the offered morsel without hesitating and gobbled it up. “Do us both a favor and take the night off.”

Up until that point Luther had been quietly standing a few feet away, but his employer’s words broke his silence and coaxed him to take a step forward. 

“Jack, I can still work,” he protested, even though everything about Luther’s present appearance said otherwise. It was pretty rare of him to get sick, but the cold he had come down with must have been glaringly obvious. 

The right side of Luther’s nose hadn’t stopped dripping since he’d woken up that morning, and he imagined his nostrils were as red and sore as they felt with how often he’d swiped the cuff of his sleeve under them. His voice could have sounded better, but he didn’t need to talk to throw rowdy, too-drunk halfwits out of the club before things escalated too far. His strength was more than enough. 

“I don’t doubt that you can work, but it ain’t about that. I need you in top shape for the fight later this week,” Jack pointed out. He took another bite of his sandwich and swallowed before speaking again. “If my best guy shows up with the sniffles, I’d be a laughin’ stock.”

Luther knew how important Jack’s reputation was, not only as a businessman but as someone who actively participated in underground...hobbies. Luther also knew that he was a direct representative of Jack’s reputation when he was in the ring, which meant that any of his failures automatically became Jack’s failures, and that wasn’t allowed under any circumstance. 

“It’s nothin’ personal, Luther. I’m just lookin’ out for you,” Jack continued, knowing he’d claimed victory by the way those hulking shoulders had slumped in defeat. “Richie’ll take over tonight, alright? In the meantime I want you to pick up some medicine and sleep whatever this is off. Got it?”

There was no point in arguing with Jack—half because Luther didn’t want to lose his job, half because the man was right—so he settled for a nod. “Yeah. Thanks, Jack.”

Luther turned to leave, though he stopped when Jack directed a parting comment at him: “And grab some napkins on your way out, will’ya? You got a leak.”

A touch of Luther’s fingertips to the underside of his nose confirmed Jack’s statement. He was leaking. The steady trickle was determined to exist despite how many frustrated swipes Luther applied to it. He might have even felt a little embarrassed if Jack hadn’t already seen him battered, bruised, and bloody. A dripping nose was nothing compared to any of that. 

Still, Luther opted to take his boss’s advice and snag a handful of napkins from the bar before he left. He had just shoved them against his nose when he almost bumped into one of the cocktail waitresses. A lot of the girls came in a few hours early to fix their hair and makeup before showtime, so it wasn’t a huge surprise to see Autumn before her shift officially began. 

“You okay, honey?” she asked, staring at the cluster of napkins Luther had pressed to his face. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Luther replied, snuffling. “Just a little under the weather. Jack’s sending me home for the day to rest up.”

“Awww. Well, I hope you feel better.”

Luther opened his mouth to show appreciation for her kind words, but that was before his attention was suddenly redirected to the sneeze he’d barely felt coming on. Thankfully, he already had his nose and mouth covered; he just needed to turn away, which he did swiftly. 

"Hhk—NGHk’t!”

The effort of containing the powerful release made his head throb and ears hurt, but the loud alternative wasn’t something he wanted to do around Autumn. Not if it could be helped, anyway.

“Sorry,” he apologized, once he’d straightened out of the crunch he’d bent into. 

“Bless you. You poor thing,” Autumn cooed, reaching into her purse to grab some tissues. “Here. I’m sure these will feel nicer than those napkins.” 

Luther thanked her, and genuinely at that, as he added the tissues to the cluster of paper that had already begun to wilt in his grip. They parted ways after that, though instead of returning to his rented room, Luther took Jack’s advice and headed to the nearest drugstore. Medicine wasn’t something he kept readily available, especially since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten sick. He imagined it was sometime before he was sent into space. 

At the drugstore, Luther had pocketed his tissues-napkins ball as he scanned the shelves for cold medicine. There were different kinds of brands, which made it hard to single out one. He ended up reaching for a red package that seemed suitable enough.

“‘Coldene’,” he read aloud. “‘For symptomatic relief of colds, headache, neuralgia and other muscular pains and aches.’ Huh. Works for me.”

Luther debated if he needed anything else—there was some cough syrup on the shelf just below—but the urgent need to sneeze from earlier resurfaced with a vengeance. He had maybe two (if not three) seconds to press the wrist of his unoccupied hand to his nose. 

"NGH’xt!—hh’GNHk’t!” 

Again, his head and ears pulsed in defiance of the releases being as tightly suppressed as they were. It normally wasn’t so bad when Luther didn’t have a cold, but having one meant he suffered at the behest of his illness whenever it chose to torment him. 

It hadn’t always been like that, however. Teasing remarks from his brothers growing up had convinced Luther that he was better off letting the sneezes implode rather than explode; it was definitely better than watching Diego pretend to fly backwards or be knocked over, much to Luther’s then-annoyance. 

Stifling his sneezes had become second nature until Luther had gone to the moon years later. Hundreds of thousands of miles away from anyone and anything, he’d been free to sneeze as openly and loudly as he wanted to. He had had to relearn keeping a lid on things when he came back, though it thankfully didn’t take too long to remaster the unpleasant skill. 

By the time he paid for the medicine, walked back to Plano Street, and headed up to his room, Luther felt the full brunt of his cold settling in. Both sides of his nose were running now, which required more than the shredded, useless ball in his pocket. Of course, it only occurred to him then that he probably should have picked up tissues while he was at the drugstore. 

Rather than waste an entire roll of toilet paper, he settled for a clean washcloth. It didn’t feel great on his nose, but it succeeded in stemming the flow as he shed his layers of clothing until he was down to his white undershirt. He’d traded his jeans for a pair of jogging pants before he sat down on his bed and worked on getting the cold medicine open. The paper peeled easily enough, allowing him to shake out two tablets into his cupped palm. 

An almost empty glass of water on his nightstand provided just enough liquid to wash down the dosage successfully, which Luther was grateful for. Now that he was sitting he didn’t feel like getting back up, or leaving his room to visit the communal washroom down the hall. To further his unwillingness of going anywhere anytime soon, Luther set the medicine and glass back on the nightstand and laid down. The mattress sunk beneath his heavy figure, but so long as it wasn’t straining to support his weight he knew he was in the clear. 

Horizontal now, Luther didn’t have to worry about his nose running. What he did have to worry about was the shift in sinus pressure, which disturbed the dormant prickle that hadn’t bothered him since he’d been in the drugstore. The walls of the rooming house were thin, but considering that most of the men who rented rooms were currently still at work, Luther didn’t have to worry about disturbing the other tenants. Then again, there were a handful of graveyard shift workers that slept during the day, which was the only reason why Luther utilized the back of his wrist once more. 

"Hhh—NGH’xt!”

The sneezes were getting harder to restrain. Beyond that, they were doing more damage than good. It wasn’t until Luther realized that the buzzing sensation in his nose wasn’t going away that he decided to finally let loose. He’d apologize to Phil later about any potential noise complaints that might have come up following his lack of restraint. 

Courtesy abandoned and mental restraints off, Luther allowed the sneeze to come as naturally as it could. 

"Huhh’EHSCHHHh’uih!”

The thunderous sound may have filled every crevice of the small room, but the sheer relief that came from it was far too rewarding for Luther to feel guilty over. He wasn’t able to bask in it for too long, because a fourth sneeze had other plans. Like before, Luther allowed it to run its natural course without interfering. Only this time it wasn’t so eager to come out.

The teasing feeling toyed with him for a few seconds, swelling and deflating his wide chest, before it became apparent that he needed some help to get the job done. Luther knew exactly what it would take. 

The curtains were closed, which was why his hand blindly felt around the nightstand for the lamp switch. Once found and turned on, the bright light was the last push it took.

"ETSCHHhhh’uh!”

In the wake of the final roaring sneeze, Luther sought refuge in the washcloth he’d previously secured. Honestly, he’d never known about the light trick until someone had made it known to him earlier in his life. That ‘someone’ wasn’t a person Luther liked to linger on, lest he reopen the wound in his heart that hadn’t stopped bleeding since he’d been stranded in Dallas. 

Wherever they were, wherever she was, Luther could only hope that safety and happiness were there, too. That went for the rest of his siblings as well. 

In an attempt to lead his thoughts elsewhere and get comfortable, Luther turned on his side; he cradled his head in the bend of his elbow and sniffed deeply to clear up whatever was trying to escape now that he’d changed positions. 

If he was lucky he’d feel better in the morning and be able to work the following night. If he wasn’t, he’d likely need another full day to recuperate. Whether he felt better or not, he needed to win that fight at the end of the week. Jack was counting on it, on him, and he didn’t plan to let the man down. He was still paying the price for the last person he’d let down eight months ago. 

As much as he tried to forget the crippling look of betrayal in Vanya’s eyes, the memory haunted him as he fell asleep. 

[Bee]

I know I commented on this already on tumblr but I just wanted to reiterate my sentiment of 🤤🤤🤤

[starpollen]

SO on board for this.   Can't wait for the next part!