Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's cold, blank, soulless. The Von Karma way, she muses- he can't be too out of place. Her heels click against the hard floor, and something in her wishes she'd taken the advice to wear something different. That way maybe he wouldn't know she was coming. Maybe he wouldn't have that stupid, prepared, smug look on his face.

She hates the way he makes her feel so small and helpless, despite the strength her whip usually grants her. She twists it together around her fingers, reminding herself he cannot hurt her.

'Ah, Franziska. Here to see your father finally? Only took you three years and four failures in court. Miles was always so much more fit to carry the Von Karma legacy. Shame the boy never took our name.' He fills her silence, coolly, calmly, goading. He’s well aware of what he is doing. He knows exactly how to get to her.

She wishes he'd stop, she wishes she could yell and scream and she wishes he'd just take it.

Such behaviour is not fitting of a Von Karma. She sits in front of him instead, letting her eyes focus on a smudge on the glass between them.

'Manfred.' The implications of the name hangs between them. She registers a brief, dull shock in his eyes, similar to the feeling in her own chest. She has no clue where the bravery to attempt this came from, nor does she know where it's fled to now.

'I'd advise you to watch your tone,' His hands tighten on the edge of the table, a subtle warning. 'You wouldn't want to disgrace the Von Karma name further, would you? After all, it's all you have left, isn't it?'

She knows how to pick out his signals. She ignores them, as frightening as they are. He cannot hurt her. Not here.

'You've smeared it enough for the both of us, Manfred.' The name gives her power. She's not his daughter anymore. Not in the same way. He cannot hurt her anymore. 'It means nothing anymore.’

'One little jail sentence and you throw it all away, Franziska? A few failures and it’s all over? We worked so hard for this, we got you so far, you falter once and you're done? Franziska, we could have ruled the courts, me and you. We would have been powerful. We still can be. The Von Karma name will always hold power, especially with the right people. I could help you still. You just have to let go of this weakness, this hesitation.' He loosens his grip on the table. 'Is that not what you wanted?'

'I wanted to be you, didn’t I…? I... wanted to do what you did.' He knows how to get to her. She can feel the fear in her voice, she can feel herself giving in. She takes a deep breath. He can't hurt her.

'Exactly. You can still do that. Listen, there's a fine man, Mr. G-' He begins rattling off details on how to find a lawyer who knows where to get forged evidence. She takes mental note. He's too foolish to realise she's listening for the wrong reasons. His pride overtook his wisdom years ago now.

Her new employers will hear about this associate. He will not hurt anyone anymore.

'I never wanted this.' These words threaten everything. She's the fool now. 'I'm not a prosecutor anymore.'

He cannot hurt her for this, he cannot punish her now.

'Oh, Franziska, of course you did. You wanted to be me and you almost were me.' This is what she was scared of. He has the power again. He can hurt her. He knows exactly how to hurt her. 'I watched the trials. We sound so alike. You were almost perfect. The way you manipulate the courts. The way you make the judge listen. You could have it all. You never will though, will you? You never listen, you never learn. Insolent, foolish child.'

She hates the hot and cold. One minute she is his darling daughter, the next moment she is a failure he doesn’t care to think about.

'I didn't want this. Not really. You wanted this for me. I was a kid, I was barely eight when you put me into law. I worked hard for you. I wanted to make you proud. By the time I knew better, it was almost too late. I could have been just like you, I could have been… I could have been a monster.' It feels good to get this off her chest. To finally admit what he’d done to her.

'Do you truly believe you are not a monster?' He scoffs, and she sees her mistakes all at once. 'Never went far enough to win, to produce the results I did, but enough to be corrupt. Tell me, Franziska, did you quit? Did they get rid of you? No surprise, you couldn't replace me, replace the things I did for the prosecutor's office. You dragged them down with you, you and your terrible record. At least Miles was good enough to survive the whispers. You are nothing, and you never will be anything. Not anymore. You aren't worthy of anything the Von Karma name had to give.'

He can hurt her. He is hurting her.

She'll never be good enough. Never quite perfect. Never quite what anyone wants. Worse than Miles, worse than anyone. A monster, just like him. She was complicit, she saw what he did and she let it happen and she's a monster. Maybe if she'd worked harder if she'd tried more if she'd used his tactics if she stopped being a stubborn fool and if she just gave in she-

She will not cry. Not until it is over. He's hurt her enough.

'I quit. I'm done being a prosecutor.' She won't let him hurt her. It's her turn to hold the power.

'That's your mistake to make, Franziska, but I assure you, it is a mistake. Mr Wright, he needs taking down a notch, and you could be the one to do that. Is that not what you want?' It's a challenge. An immoral one. She hates it but Wright will never be wrong about his clients. Miles tells her that enough.

He's not worth her power. Not even a little bit. She knows that now.

'I'm sure Miles can do it for me. You were always more proud of him anyway.'

'Why are you here, Franziska?' He knows exactly how to divert the conversation where he wants. She hates him.

It’s an interesting question, nonetheless. She doesn’t know how to answer.

'I was told it might be good for me.' It’s not her best lie, but it’s what she has. His eyebrow arches in response, a malicious curiosity.

'How is that working out for you, Franziska?' He knows the answer already. She wishes he didn’t. Things would be so much easier that way.

'I think I’ve achieved everything I came to do.' At the very least, she's not going to achieve more than she already has. She will not play his game any longer.

She's leaving. Her boots are clicking on the floor again, loud and echoed. They only click four times.

'How is Ms Fey?'

He was holding out on her. The game is not over, he will never let it be.

Any power she had is gone. He has the upper hand again, as he always does. He knows her weaknesses, he knows how to get to her, he knows exactly which buttons to push, and which information to leverage to make her listen. There's no winning.

A smarter woman would continue walking. A wiser woman would tune him out, and listen to the click of footsteps as she leaves. She is neither of those women, and she turns around, hoping maybe he does not know her as well as he thinks.

'Fine, I'd assume. Why would I know?'

'Things still get to me, even here. I'm no fool, Franziska.'

Of course he's not. She curses herself for ever thinking he'd fall for her bluff. She's off her game, her poker face is not what it should be. Imperfect, as always.

'She's well. Not that you care.' She snaps at him, just a little, and the vindication overpowers the light fear of even barely standing up to him.

He cannot hurt her. They promised her that.

'You could have picked better company.' He doesn't care. 'That foolish spiritual-whatever. Franziska, she's nothing compared to you. You are so much better than her, she's not worth a moment of a Von Karma's time.' The look on his face is distasteful, one she's used to. The same look she got whenever she misbehaved.

This time, instead of shame, the look incites anger in her.

'She's far better than you, and she is most definitely better than me,' The hesitation to raise her voice is gone, years of pent up anger and upset taking over. 'You don't know a fucking thing about Maya Fey, and I pray you never do. She is far more impressive, and strong, and powerful then you or I could ever hope to be.'

'And no doubt you learned that shameful language from her. She's impolite, loud, unrefined. She's been on trial three times for murder, truly a how of her character, no?' He has her now. She knows he's seen her weak point. He's exploiting it to hell and back.

The game has been rigged against her since she was born. How was she ever meant to win against him?

Every time she gains power, he finds a way to have the upper hand again. It makes her mad, which makes her irrational, which gives him more. If only she were better at hiding her emotions. The Von Karma way. The perfect way. The way she should be.

Fuck the Von Karma way. She deserves to be angry. She deserves to have emotions.They have taught her that much.

He deserves to hear it. Even if she knows it will not be worth much in the end.

'You fucking killed Miles' father! You let him think he did it for fifteen years! You killed him and you're not even sorry!' She hasn't even noticed she's standing, hands flat on the table, yelling at him. He makes her sick. Even after everything, he's still the smug, self-righteous prick that called himself her father. She hates him, he makes her blood boil. 'You ruined our childhood, you worked us to the fucking bone, you made us your little puppets!'

He simply leans back in his chair, smirking as she yells. It makes her angrier.

'We were never good enough for you! We never will be good enough for you! You pitted us against each other and you made us believe we would never be as good as each other! You made us think we weren't even worth basic human needs!' As she continues to yell, her voice becomes quickly hoarse, screams turn to resigned tears. 'You don't even care. You never did. You never will.'

'Is that what they're telling you now?'

He doesn't care. She's always known. It still hurts hearing him dismiss it again.

She knows he won't change. Two fucking years in prison and he still hasn’t changed. Why won’t he fucking change?

Why can’t he just be her father? Why can’t he just care?

This time, it is her who knows the answers to the questions she’s asking.

Why are you still here?

She hasn’t worked that one out yet. She doesn’t think there is an answer. She should leave. He won’t listen.

She can leave, and there will be a quiet hotel room waiting for her, and two numbers she can call if she ever feels the need.

'They’re wrong, Franziska. You know that. You could be good enough if you actually tried.'

She cannot win this game. She can, however, choose not to play, choose not to lose.

What is winning, if it isn’t not-losing?

'I hope you rot in here, and I hope you rot again in hell'

Her heels are clicking before she can hear him respond. For once in her life, Franziska Von Karma is allowed to get in the final word.