Chapter Text
October 3rd, 2002
"Hello, Number Eight," Reginald greeted the rather subdued girl as he opened the metal door to her chamber and walked inside. At his side was Allison, a crestfallen look on her face barely mending to one of relief and glee upon seeing Eight in one piece.
The scowl on her face betrayed almost no emotion except for resentment, but she managed to let a tiny "Hello," out, her voice raspy.
"Following extensive research, I have determined that it is necessary to employ Number Three's abilities to erase your presence from your sibling's memories and theirs from yours until I have fully assessed your powers and ascertained it is safe to reintegrate you into the Academy." At this, Allison flipped to face him incredulously, her mouth agape and eyes even wider.
How could he do this?
Noticing her less-than-desirable reaction, he added: "When the time is right, I will use Number Three's power once more to restore your memories. This is merely a precautionary measure."
"Precautionary measure?" Allison echoed back. Eight remained painfully silent, hugging herself in the corner. "Taking her away from all of us? You must be out of your mind! You can't get me to do that!"
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he continued with a tone that brooked no argument. "You have seen my methods," he said simply. "Consider the isolation Number Eight has received a mere. . . precursor."
There was no need for him to elaborate - Allison knew exactly what he meant, and she shuddered just thinking about it. It was a high-risk, high-reward situation. Reginald was hardly known for keeping his word, but if he was telling the truth, her Rumor would ultimately benefit everyone. Reginald might find a way to control Eight's powers, and eventually, she could return to the Academy. However, the risk was that he might break his promise, leaving Eight confined down here indefinitely, with no one the wiser, was terrifying for her to imagine.
She was deeply conflicted but realized she had no other choice. As painful as it was to admit, this was the only option available.
"I. . ." Allison stammered, considering all of this.
"There is no time for you to indulge in semantic debates, Number Three. We have pressing matters at hand and many individuals for you to Rumor."
She darted her eyes between Eight and the man she had to call her father. A sad shell of an idea came to her mind. "How do you expect me to forget her if I'm the one using my powers on everyone?"
"On the contrary. You will use your power upon yourself in the end."
"What? How?"
"Number Three," his voice starkly reminded her of what he'd brought her here for.
She cast a desperate glance at her sister, whose face mirrored the emptiness Allison felt inside. She felt dirty, dishonest, and disgusting for having to do this. What a terrible fate she was meeting.
Yet, as she looked up at the man above her, silently urging her to proceed, she took a shaky breath in and walked closer to the bed, grabbing Eight's hands in hers. It was then that the girl looked up at her slowly, her body seeming to tremble slowly. Allison fought back tears.
She had to be strong for the one who was truly suffering.
"Eight, I'm so sorry," She said, gently stroking her sister's hands with her thumbs. "You know this isn't what I want. It's not what anyone wants."
"This sucks."
"I know, I know," the tears were now escaping her eyes against her will. Seeing Eight be unable to feel any true emotion just widened the sinkhole opening in her stomach - it was almost nauseating to see her so subdued. "I just want you to know how much I love you, okay?"
Silence. Painful silence.
"And..." Allison continued, her voice catching. "When we get through this, you and I are going to have a great time. Okay? A girls' day. No boys allowed," she said as her chuckle tinged with emotion, silently hoping her next words would get some reaction out of her. "Not even Five."
It was hard for Eight to hear the name of her best friend. But she agreed, despite herself. It felt like she should be crying, but she couldn't. "Not even Five."
"Time is of the essence, Number Three," Reginald called from a distance.
"I'm so sorry," she repeated for what felt like the umpteenth time. But no amount of sorry could make it better or fix it, she knew that. "I love you so much, okay?"
"I love you too, Allison," and that response, Allison concluded, was the most amount of feeling she was going to get out of her sister for the foreseeable future.
She took a deep breath, feeling like her lungs were collapsing in on her. With another tight, encouraging squeeze on Eight's hands, she pursed her lips, then:
"I heard a rumor you forgot all about me, Luther, Diego, Klaus, Five, Ben, and Vanya."
She winced, regretting ever agreeing with her father as the Rumor reached her ears, then her mind, and finally her eyes. They turned a faint shade of white, and Eight's once steady grip on her hands faded as she came to, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked around.
Allison didn't think she had ever felt so awful in her life. The only positive to this situation was she wouldn't remember this debilitating guilt pooling in her stomach soon enough.
But was that really a good thing?
"Who are you?" Eight asked in the same, concerningly empty and emotionless tone. There was little infliction to her voice.
Allison blinked rapidly as she tried to think of what she could say.
Thankfully (well, really, though?) Reginald cut in as he walked forward and ushered Allison off the bed and brought her to her feet. "Nobody of importance, Number Eight." There was a pause.
"That will be all," he explicitly directed his words to Allison, knowing he couldn't address her whatsoever to not contradict the effects of her rumor.
Five more to go.
He'd brought her to the study room, where her other siblings were sitting working on the homework she'd been exempt from, blissfully unaware of the horrors going on in the basement and what they were about to endure. Allison sniffled and wiped her nose as they appeared in the doorway, Reginald knocking on the doorframe to make their presence known.
"Hi, Allison," Luther beamed.
She knew she was a better actress than this, but could barely speak without her voice crackling. "Hey, Luther."
Her tone implied something had happened, but before Luther had a chance to go over what could've been the matter in his head, Reginald cleared his throat and supplied Allison with a curt nod.
She walked forward to face the room, and the unusualness of the situation caused Five and Ben to look up in confusion, exchanging A Look. She closed her eyes momentarily, clenching her fists at her sides, fighting the urge to run out of the room and never look back.
She knew she wouldn't make it far though.
Struggling against her better judgment and Reginald's instructions to direct her Rumor at multiple people, a task she had learned in her last training session, she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her neck as she shakily began:
"I heard a Rumor. . ."
She interrupted herself with a sob. Her siblings, having been temporarily subdued, quickly regained their senses since she hadn't completed what she was saying. They exchanged urgent glances.
"Allison, what are you doing?" Klaus demanded, his pencil dropping to the floor.
"Number Three, proceed immediately, or face severe consequences!"
"Allison?"
"Allison! " Five barked. "What's going on?"
"I'm so sorry. . ."
"Why are you rumoring us?!" Luther briefly considered covering his ears to hopefully circumvent its effects, but after remembering that wouldn't do anything, he resisted.
"I heard a rumor you all forgot Number Eight existed."