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"What's wrong?"
"Other than the fact that I'm dead and trapped in the house I died in with my parents and a dozen or so murderous psychopaths for eternity? Oh, I don't know. I'd kinda like a grilled cheese?"
Violet let her head roll along the brick banister of the porch as she looked at Vivian. They hadn't spent a lot of time together lately. Vivian had been spending most of her time tending to the baby and talking to Moira while Ben tried to sort out what he could with the rest of the curious spirits in the house. Her parents had adjusted very quickly to life after death; apparently they intended to keep on exactly as they'd left off now that they had the house to themselves once more.
Her mother reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear and Violet sighed. It was beyond freaky that she could still feel things. Shouldn't she feel like nothing or some shit? Shouldn't she be constantly cold or numb all over or eternally damned to feel thirsty or tired or what the fuck? Who the fuck would've thought that being dead would be just like being alive only more boring? Violet certainly hadn't thought it would be like this.
Vivian let her hand drop as she asked, "Are you really hungry or are you just saying that?"
She thought it was completely stupid that her mom would ask her that, but Violet got it, she did. They didn't have any answers. If there were answers to be had about the state of affairs for ghosts in Murder House, none of the Harmons had them. They were definitely not the most informed of the spirits in the place. Honestly, Violet didn't like to think too much about that since she had a sinking feeling that the person who likely had the most answers was Tate and she---she couldn't talk to him now.
If she let herself think about it too much, Violet might come to the realization that eternity could pass for them and she might not even be able to talk to him at the end of that. Every time she thought about talking to him, she started to remember how his dick had felt inside her and every time she thought about that? She wound up thinking about how his dick had been inside her mother and she wanted to kill herself all over again.
Actually. Violet had tried that once. She'd jumped off the roof to see what would happen. There was the chance she might land far enough out to make it over the fence and then what? She'd still be dead, but she'd be free to move around outside the grounds? Or would she just pass on to wherever ghosts went when they weren't trapped inside their family's death house? Violet hadn't known, but she had found out that it hurt like a motherfucker to hit the ground. Her body had broken everywhere and she'd gotten a good mouthful of her own blood, choked on it for a while even, before she'd closed her eyes to wake up back inside her old room. Violet had lain on the floor for a solid hour while taking inventory of every muscle she could think to test.
She knew after that nothing would ever change for her again. She'd be stuck exactly as she'd been the day that she'd died forever.
It was funny how forever seemed like a Hell of a lot longer once it was a reality than when it was only a possibility.
"I'm just saying that. Trust me, Mom. I'm not anymore hungry than you are now. Baby sleeping?"
Violet had learned that the best way to avoid talking about anything with her mother was to draw attention to her new bundle of joy. She wondered if the shine of new parenthood would ever wear off for her mom and dad or if they'd be blissed out until they were all taken out again in some ultimate grand finale that freed up the whole house. It didn't matter to her either way. There wasn't any jealousy in her for the little guy. The way that she saw it, he wasn't in any position to warrant jealousy. Violet had lived long enough to almost be legal; her brother hadn't done more than draw a single breath. The only thing she thought about when it came to the baby was to wonder whether or not his mind would change over the years even if his body didn't.
That sounded like a real Hell to Violet. Trapped forever as a helpless infant while her mind grew older and older? That was some truly macabre shit. Idly she wondered if that was what Thaddeus was really like, an evil baby, and her thoughts turned to Tate again because she knew that if anyone would know, it'd be him. He seemed to be on good terms with the guy if the fact that he'd saved her from him was anything to go by and Violet knew now that it had been Thaddeus to scare the shit out of Leah. That was all for Tate. Thaddeus definitely hadn't shown up to put the fear of the devil into her for Violet's sake.
Her mother's hand settled on her knee as Vivian took a seat on the porch railing beside her.
"He's sleeping just fine, thanks for asking, but it's you that I'm worried about now, Violet. You're still my little girl even if you aren't very little any more. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on with you. Is it the baby? Is it---him?"
Vivian didn't say Tate's name. It was a thing with her that Violet had noticed. She didn't think it was because of the thing that he'd done to her. She honestly thought it was because Vivian was convinced that saying his name would bring him around. Violet knew that was partially true, but she also knew that she'd sent him away and that meant he wouldn't be back for---well, that part was a little fuzzy, but she knew saying his name didn't conjure him up. Her parents said her name enough for her to realize that there wasn't any power in that.
"What do you think?"
She didn't say Tate's name because she respected her mother, not because she was afraid. Violet still wasn't afraid of Tate even after she'd found out all the things he'd done. Some of the things that were being laid at his feet didn't seem possible even though she knew what he was capable of and even still, even knowing that he'd done things that were beyond horrible, Violet wasn't afraid of him.
Any time she started to think on the evil that might live inside of him all Violet could get her mind to focus on was the salty taste of his tears on her lips when he kissed her, crying over how he only wanted to make her happy when nothing, not anything, ever could.
There wasn't any happiness to be found when one died in the arms of evil masquerading as the embrace of love.
Her mother moved to take her hand in her own and Violet let her. She let her mother hold her hand because she needed to feel that small comfort for a moment.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I think it's the curse of women to always mourn for the wrong man."
Violet squeezed Vivian's hand in her own, "Think I should try to swear off guys then? Moira can be pretty hot sometimes. You think she'd be into younger girls?"
Her mother laughed at her and Violet's lips curved into the first real smile she'd had in ages. It felt good to joke, to laugh, to be able to feel. Sure, it wasn't the same, it would never be the same, but there was still the chance that she could adjust. The idea of getting used to the way things were wasn't one that she was entirely comfortable with -Violet had never wanted to settle for anything in her life- but she had enough examples for anyone of what eternity could look like if someone didn't let things go.
"I think you might want to swear off everyone for a while. It would certainly keep me and your father a little more sane. Have pity on your poor, old folks, okay?"
"My poor dead folks, you mean?"
"I thought we agreed not to linger over technicalities, my dearly departed daughter?"
"Touché," Violet offered as she laughed, really, truly laughed in response.
They both paused as a sound like a sigh resounded from around them. It occurred to them both at the same time that even though they might feel alone, even though they might look alone, they were never sure to be truly alone in the house. For all Violet knew, she'd banished Tate with his handy little order only to have him lingering invisibly all the time. He might be on the porch with them close enough to touch even. Her skin tingled and she held her breath as she tried to figure out what the reaction was for: fear or excitement.
"I'll be inside in a minute, okay?"
Vivian hesitated before nodding. Her hand clutched Violet's tight for a moment longer before she faded away into nothing to go back to her sleeping son. They had mastered that much of their new existence fairly early on since moving by thought was something that was evidently instinctual once a person was dead. Violet loved it herself. She planned to close her eyes and think of her father at any moment, in fact, so that she could sit with him while he organized the books in the study. He was trying to find answers for the spirits that shared their home and the books were among the only tool he had left since they no longer had internet or any outside access really.
Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that she already had her answer.
Violet whispered into the stillness, "I'm still not afraid of you, Tate. I don't forgive you. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I'm not afraid. I thought you should know that."
A startled laugh was her only response before Violet closed her eyes and let herself find the way back to the safety -and sanity- of her parents once more; the only doubt left in Violet's mind as she went was how she could have ever thought that eternity could be boring in this house considering the company she could choose to keep.
