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Chapter Text

She was in the birdcage. The tape over her mouth chafed as she worked her lips, attempting to get free. The hook-handed man held her up, but sometimes he would shake the cage, threatening to drop her.

She was crawling laps as fast as she could. Her short limbs ached, and her hands and knees were sore, covered with grass stains and scratches. She longed to stop to catch her breath, but he was watching them. His eyes glittered dangerously, promising to take her way, to hurt her. To hurt her siblings.

She was climbing up the elevator shaft with her teeth. Her face ached, and the metal was scratching the inside of her mouth, and Sunny couldn’t stand the metallic taste of her own blood. She didn’t dare look below her and see just how far she had to fall. She kept her eyes aimed up at the light at the top of the shaft. Her entire body shook with the fear of falling, but she steeled herself and kept inching upwards. She'd do it for her siblings—she’d do it for their first and only friends. She couldn’t bear for the Quagmires’ lives to go the same way hers had.

She was sitting in the shabby jail cell with her siblings, still reeling from the murder accusation against her. She’d never. She would never kill somebody; never! But Sunny couldn’t help but think… what if it came to defending her siblings? But she hadn’t defended them, though. She’d gotten them all in trouble, and she couldn’t do anything to save them from their fate. She thought she could already feel the heat of the flames that would kill her and her siblings, and she choked back a sob.

She thought she’d never been as scared and horrified as she was when she watched her brother, his hand shaking, press the long, brutal knife to her sister’s throat. She watched the gentle rise and fall of Violet’s chest and took solace in the fact that she was still breathing, that Klaus was just pretending to murder her. But her heart pounded as she watched his critical eye on her brother’s hand. What if he saw through their ruse? Would he force them to kill Violet for real, or would he just kill them outright? She wished she could do something to help Klaus, but she was helpless.

She looked at the crowd, full of people that believed she was a murderer. The only reason they weren’t rushing in to hold her until the authorities came to arrest her for a murder she didn’t commit was because she had disguised herself. Just like he always did. The crowd was mocking her, shrieking with laughter. Her disguise itched, and she longed to tear it off, but if she did, all was lost. She had to keep up the charade, or she and her siblings would die. But she couldn’t stand being disguised like he always was. She hated being in this vicious carnival. She hated everything about her current situation. But there was nothing she could do about it.

She was in his car. She was being held on his girlfriend's lap, and Esme was pinching her and pinching her, and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling, and not just because of the pain. They had taken her from her siblings; killed her siblings. She was alone in the world. There was no chance for her. They’d use her for the Baudelaire fortune and then kill her, and she was helpless . She would die, and they were dead, and she was helpless . 

She was in the diving helmet. She could feel the fungus filling up her throat with spores, could feel the spores sprouting and making even more spores. Her breaths were thin and rattly and painful . Her siblings were frantically trying to find a solution, but she could feel herself running out of time. She would die, and she was helpless, and they were helpless. She was terrified, and the only thing she wanted was to die in her siblings' arms instead of all alone. But if she left the diving helmet, everybody would die, not just her. She just couldn't do anything .

'Burn down Denouement,' she had said. Her siblings were aghast. She was aghast. But it was the only thing she could think of doing. He had called her 'his girl.' She wasn't his girl, not now, not ever. But she had suggested starting a fire. She hated herself, but what else could she do? What could any of them do?  

She huddled with her siblings on the boat. The rain was falling in sheets, whipping violet’s hair into her face and mouth and trying to tear Klaus’s glasses from her face. Violet was attempting to shield her from the raging storm, but the wind lashed at her, and she was chilled to the bone. She couldn't see him anywhere, and the worst thing was that she didn’t know whether that made her happy or not. She couldn’t do anything but cling to Violet and Klaus and hope that the storm wouldn’t kill them. Once again, she was helpless .

She sat in the armchair with her siblings. She couldn't breathe again. Those spores had made their home in her throat, again . She was petrified. Her breath wouldn’t come, and her body shook with the effort of staying conscious. She remembered last time. But there was no horseradish this time, no wasabi. She would die, and her siblings would die—there was nothing she could do. The only thing she could take comfort in was that she would at least die with her siblings. 

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Sunny Baudelaire sat bolt upright in her bed. Sweat poured down her face. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she struggled to keep herself from panicking. 

It had been four years since he died—four years since Beatrice had been born. Four years since the colonists had left and Kit had died. (She was helpless then too.) They had lived peacefully on the island for four years.

Peacefully. They were safe. He was dead. She’d seen him die. They were safe.

Yet memories of him still haunted her. She wondered if she would ever really escape him. 

Her panic got the better of her, and she began to hyperventilate. Tears came to her eyes, and she tried to keep herself from crying, but she couldn’t hold the tears back, and eventually, she dissolved into tears and pressed her face into her pillow. Why couldn’t she just be done with him? Why ?

She felt a hand on her shoulder and whirled around, ready to bite her assailant. It was a good thing she spotted her sister’s face before she sank her teeth into Violet’s hand.

“Oh!” Sunny said. She tried to wipe her tears away, but they just kept coming. “I’m sorry, Vi.”

“It’s alright, Sunny,” Violet murmured, picking Sunny up. She balanced Sunny on her hip and walked outside, onto the brae, kissing the top of her head and murmuring nonsense into her ear. 

Violet brought Sunny to her favorite hilltop, where she could watch the sunrise and look out at the entire island. Violet put her down, and they both sat on the bench Violet had built there.

Her sister took Sunny’s face into her hands and thumbed her tears away. “He's gone, Sunny,” Violet told her. “He can't hurt you anymore. I promise.” Violet put an arm around her shoulder, and Sunny laid her head on Violet’s arm. “Nightmare?” Violet asked. Sunny nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sunny dissolved into a new wave of tears. “I was dying, Vi. Over and over. I was dying. You were dying. Klaus was dying. And I couldn’t do anything about it. Nothing! I was helpless!” She hugged her sister tightly. Violet carded her fingers through Sunny’s hair.

“Do you feel me?” Violet asked. Sunny nodded tearfully. Violet took Sunny’s hand and put it over her heart. “Do you feel my heartbeat?” 

Violet’s chest was warm, and Sunny could feel the subtle throb of her sister’s heart. She nodded again. “Yes, I can feel it,” Sunny whispered, her voice raw from crying.

“I’m alive, Sunny,” Violet said. She pressed Sunny’s hand to her chest. Sunny could feel the beating of her own heart now. “Do you feel that pulse, Sun? You’re alive, too. So’s Klaus, and so’s Bee. We’re all here. We survived, Sunny. We’re done with him. I promise.”

Sunny clenched her jaw. “I don’t feel done with him, Vi. I feel like I’m still there . I feel like I’m never going to escape him, never !” she spat. Violet stroked her hair. “And—” her voice broke. “Vi, the things I did—"

“Sunny, no.” Violet put her hands on Sunny’s shoulders and looked at her fiercely. “You can't think like that. You were two years old when we did those things. You were barely talking or walking then. Besides, everything we did, we did to survive. We made the choices we had to make. We're noble enough.”

That was what Kit had told them. 

Kit was dead . 

Sunny shook her head violently. “But Vi, I told Olaf—” Here she spat on the ground. She hated saying his name. “I told him to burn down the hotel. I killed hundreds of people, even innocents. Me. I did that. I had the idea to push him overboard. I helped destroy the last safe place. I couldn't save Kit. I couldn't save Friday or the colonists. I—”

"Sunny," Violet said, stroking her cheek, “Stop this. You are six years old. You have seen more than any six-year-old should. You are the sweetest little girl, Sunny, and you're my little girl. My little sister. And I love you. Okay? Stop blaming yourself. Olaf would’ve burned down the hotel anyhow. We tried to save those people— you tried to save them. We were all thinking about pushing Olaf overboard. He ruined our lives, Sunny. He tried to kill us. Olaf destroyed the last safe place. Kit… she made her own choice. She chose to die to save her child. As for Friday and the colonists, they made their own choice too. You offered Friday an apple. You tried.”

“But I failed.”

“You were two, Sunny. What were you going to do at two years old?” Violet took a breath. “Please, Sunny. Please believe me. It is not your fault that all these terrible things happened to us. You are in control of your life now, not Olaf. You.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course, Sun.” Violet pulled her into another hug, and Sunny pressed her face to her sister’s chest. She listened for Violet’s heartbeat and let the steady thrum of her sister’s heart calm her as they sat and watched the sunrise.

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Klaus woke up, and his sisters were gone.

They'd left him.

It was no wonder—he'd screwed everything up for them.

He'd gotten Sunny stuck in a birdcage at Olaf’s. He thought he was so smart, reading up on nuptial law. But of course Olaf would catch him.

Even though he'd had doubts, he'd let Stephano in the house, killing Uncle Monty. 

He couldn't save Aunt Josephine from Captain Sham or the leeches. If he had been better, if he had known more about the leeches, he could've saved her. He should’ve known. That was what he was for . 

At Lucky Smells Lumbermill, he'd gotten hypnotized, crushing Phil's leg, later almost killing Charles.

He couldn't save the Quagmires. He was so caught up in their own misfortune that he completely missed the danger Quagmires were in. Then, to make matters worse, he’d chosen the wrong lot at the auction, hurting his only friends further.

They’d set the hospital on fire, killing many. Indeed, he'd almost killed Violet himself.

His sisters must be disgusted with him. God knows he hated himself.

He'd helped Olaf get the sugar bowl. He was supposed to be helping VFD and look at what he’d done.

Of course his sisters hated him. How could they not?

But as he looked around to see what they'd left, he saw Bee sleeping soundly. His heart leaped. If his sisters were going to leave him, they would've taken Bee with them.

He ventured outside onto the brae and found Sunny crying in Violet's arms.

His sister had been hurting, and he'd been busy feeling sorry for himself. He sat down next to Violet and started rubbing Sunny's back.

Violet noticed him. She sat Sunny in her lap and said, “Good morning, Klaus. You’re up early. Couldn’t sleep?” Sunny reached for him and pressed her face against his chest. He looked down at Sunny and then up at Violet questioningly. “She had a nightmare about all of us dying,” Violet told him softly. “She’s listening to your heartbeat so that she can convince herself you’re alive.”

Klaus sat dumbfounded. He put a hand on Sunny’s head, drinking in her warmth, and letting his situation sink in. 

His sisters loved him, he reminded himself.

Here was Sunny, clinging to him as if she would lose him if she let go, and here was Violet, smiling at him. 

Overcome, he started to cry.

“Are you okay, Klaus?” Sunny asked him worriedly.

“I’m happy ,” Klaus told his sisters. “When I woke up, and you weren’t there, I thought you’d left me, but of course you never would.”

“That’s right. We wouldn’t. Of course we wouldn’t,” Violet said. She frowned. “Why would you think such a thing? Klaus, you're our brother. We would never leave you.”

“I just thought…” Klaus sighed. “It’s hard sometimes, you know? To get out of that old thought process, from when we were running from Olaf. I just thought that I screwed everything up. Monty, Josephine, Dewey, the colonists, Kit… sometimes it feels like I killed them.”

“Klaus—” Violet started to say.

“I know I didn’t, Vi. I know. We’ve talked about it enough. We did our best.”

Sunny hugged him, and Violet wrapped her arms around them.

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Violet sat with her siblings for another moment, and then she stood. “I’m going to go get Bee. She’ll be waking up soon and wondering where I am.”

Sunny stood too. “I’ll make breakfast!” She ran off towards the Arboretum.

“I’ll go with her,” Klaus told Violet. “Make sure everything’s safe.”

“Thanks,” Violet said. 

She thought about her siblings. They both had to grow up far too fast. Sunny was six years old, Violet thought to herself. She's only six. And yet she’d seen so much in her short life. 

Klaus was sixteen. Sixteen, and he knew more than any adult should.

The trauma that both her siblings had broke Violet’s heart.

When Sunny was born, her parents had taken her aside. They had told her to protect her siblings. She was twelve that day, and Klaus ten. And here they all were, six years later.

Violet closed her eyes. She resisted the thought that she’d failed her parents. She fought the tears that fell. She couldn’t do that right now. She had to be strong for her siblings and for Bee. 

She walked towards the Arboretum, towards her family.

She thought about Olaf. His shiny, shiny eyes. His eyebrow. His tattoo . She thought about the nightmare she’d woken from that night, where she really had to marry Olaf, where he beat Klaus and Sunny every night, where she couldn’t protect her siblings. 

God, sometimes she felt like such a terrible sister. 

“Vi?” A small voice sounded from the direction of the Arboretum. “Kla? Sun?”

Violet ran towards the sound of Beatrice Snicket Baudelaire’s voice. “I’m here, Bee,” she called. “Just took an early morning walk, that’s all.”

“Vi!” The four-year-old smiled and stumbled towards her. 

Violet picked Bee up and spun her around. “Good morning, Bee! How did you sleep?”

“Really good! I had a dream that I was flying!”

“Flying? Really?”

“Uh-huh,” the girl said. “On a cloud.”

Violet smiled. “I’m glad it was a nice dream, Bee. Are you ready for some breakfast?”

Bee nodded. Violet carried her towards the kitchen. Klaus and Sunny were making pancakes together. Sunny stood on a stool pouring batter onto a griddle with Klaus supporting the bowl as she poured.

They had breakfast as a family, and looking at Sunny and Klaus, smiling, laughing, and having a peaceful breakfast, Violet smiled too. 

She’d done something right for them to be able to be sitting here at all.

Chapter Text

After the performance, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were taken back to Olaf's house, where they huddled together, wondering what would become of them. Justice Strauss attempted to talk to Olaf, but he smirked at her and slammed the door in her face.

"Come, my countess. You may say goodnight to your siblings before our wedding night," Olaf told her.

“I'm not your countess,” Violet said hotly. 

"Oh, but you are. And now that the Baudelaire fortune is under my control, I have no need for your siblings anymore. I might keep you around—just to see your pretty face.” His eyes flashed wickedly. 

"You're not going anywhere with my sister!" Klaus yelled. 

Olaf struck Klaus across the face, once, twice, three times, and then, as if to prove he could, kicked him hard in the shin. Klaus buckled and rolled over in pain. Violet ran to him. Already, angry red marks were growing on her brother’s face and legs.

“Upstairs, countess,” Olaf ordered. “Or it’s your sister next.”

Violet looked back at her siblings, at Klaus’s huddled form, at Sunny’s panicked face, then fearfully followed the count.

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Klaus couldn’t sleep, imagining what Olaf might be doing with his sister. He tried to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress, but eventually he limped over to the window to look out at the inky blackness of night. He was careful not to wake his sister. At least one of them should be able to have a good night’s sleep. 

Two hours later, a pale, shaking, tearful Violet stumbled into their bedroom, and Klaus rushed over to her. 

Violet collapsed on the floor and leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Klaus noticed long scratches on her arms, and hand shaped bruises on her wrists and throat. He went to sit beside his sister.

“We need to leave,” she told him. Her voice was as shaky as she was. “Right now.” 

Klaus nodded. He limped across the room, trying not to put too much weight on the leg Olaf had kicked, and taking great care not to squeak any floorboards. He didn’t know what would happen if Olaf woke up. He picked up Sunny from her pile of curtains, and she was startled awake. “Shh,” he said. “We’re leaving,” 

“Fugicat?” Sunny whispered. She meant something along the lines of, ‘Will Olaf catch us if we're on the run?’

“That's a good question, Sunny,” Klaus said. “Maybe. Maybe not. But we can’t stay.”

“Desti?” Sunny questioned, which her siblings knew meant, ‘Where will we go?’

It was Violet who answered this time. "Anywhere will be better than here.”

Quietly the three siblings gathered up what they needed—clothes, food from the kitchen, several backpacks- and made their way outside.

“Let's go to Justice Strauss,” Klaus said. “She'll know what to do.”

The three went next door and rang the judge's doorbell. After a moment, a puffy-eyed Justice Strauss came to the door. She took in Violet's tear-stained face, her scars and bruises, looked into Klaus’s face. He knew the light from her house probably threw his bruises into stark relief. “Oh… I had worried, but I thought—Oh, do come in, children.”

Violet ushered Klaus and Sunny in ahead of her. She looked back at Olaf's house and firmly closed the door behind her. Then she sank to the floor and burst into tears.

“Violet?” Justice Strauss asked. She wrung her hands. “Oh, tell me what's wrong, dear.”

The fourteen year old girl shook her head violently and squeezed her eyes shut, tears still leaking out of them. When she managed to speak, she said, "I don't want Klaus or Sunny to have to hear this."

Klaus opened his mouth to protest, but, looking at his sister's tears, thought better of it and took Sunny into the library. He thought about the wealth of knowledge contained here and wished that he’d found some way to prevent all of this from happening. He sank into one of Justice Strauss’s plush armchairs and stroked his little sister’s hair. 

“Sertsid?” Sunny asked. Klaus knew she meant something along the lines of, “Will Violet be okay?”

“I…” Klaus trailed off. “I hope so,” he said finally. “All we can do is try to comfort her.”

Sunny nodded. After a while, she asked “Erudecorp?” which meant “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” Klaus admitted. “But we’ll be together, and that’s what matters.” He lifted Sunny up and hugged her tightly. “We’ll figure something out.”

They sat like that for another minute or so, before Klaus heard Justice Strauss call for them. He dashed back into the entranceway with Sunny. He took a look at his sobbing sister and sat down next to her, putting Sunny on his other side. Violet collapsed into his arms. Sunny crawled between them. The siblings clung to each other. 

Justice Strauss, who had been watching the siblings, said, "Children, it’s late, and I’m sure you’re all exhausted. Why don’t you all go to bed? I can prepare the guest bedroom for one of you, and one of you can take my bed—I can sleep on the couch—and I can make up a little bed for Sunny with some cushions.”

Klaus looked at Violet, who was still shaking with sobs. He cleared his throat and managed, “I think we'd rather all sleep together.”

Violet nodded and picked up Sunny. Klaus held out his hand for her, and she took it.

“Then your door is the first one on the left.” Justice Strauss told them. “Violet, dear, if you want to shower, that would be the third door down.”

The siblings found the room Justice Strauss indicated and Klaus put Sunny back to bed. 

“I… I’m going to take a shower,” she told him. “I might be a while, so please don’t wait up for me. I’ll come to bed when I’m done.”

“Are you sure?” Klaus asked. 

Violet nodded at him. “Go to sleep.

Klaus was awoken in the middle of the night by a shout from Violet. He checked to see that Sunny was still asleep—she was, remarkably. Violet's eyes were open but they were no longer bright. They were tear-soaked and dull.

Klaus stared at his older sister as emotions coursed through him. It felt like he was drowning as rage mixed with sorrow mixed with guilt mixed with concern. “Vi, take a walk with me,” he begged.

Violet got up from the bed and mechanically followed Klaus out of the room.

“Did you have a nightmare? Was it about him?” Klaus asked. “You can tell me about it.”

Violet shut her eyes. When she opened them, Klaus read horror and pain in them. She seemed to look past Klaus. “I don't want to scare you.”

"You're my sister. If you can't confide in me, who can you confide in?" Klaus said, his voice quivering with suppressed tears.

Violet looked away. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you ,” she told him.

“But I’m your brother!” Klaus argued. “ Please , Violet. I want to help you.”

“I'll never be free of him,” Violet said savagely. Tears were running down her face. “I'll always remember his eyes, his wicked laugh, the feel of him inside me... The burning pain, the shame…” Violet  wiped at her eyes. “But I can still protect you, Klaus. You and Sunny... I can give you a childhood.”

"You're only fourteen," Klaus protested. "You deserve a childhood too."

“Yes?” Violet snapped. “Well, I'm never going to get one.” She burst into tears again and cried for a long time. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you. I just... I just can’t deal with this.”

Klaus wrapped his arms around his older sister. He remembered the formidable girl she'd been just two days ago, searching endlessly for a way to get them out of the situation they were in. Count Olaf had stolen that Violet away, and Klaus worried he’d never get her back. 

Klaus hoped they would never have to see him again. 

Justice Strauss emerged from her room and saw Klaus and Violet, clinging to each other, crying. She smiled sadly at them. “Couldn’t sleep, dears?”

“You know what that monster did to my sister,” Klaus said darkly. “Justice Strauss, is there anything we can do?”

“I’ve called the authorities already,” Justice Strauss said. “Even if Violet is…” a shadow crossed the judge’s face. “Even if Violet is technically his wife, abuse of a spouse and a minor is still a crime. You can file for divorce immediately, Violet, and… and you will always be welcome to live with me, if you want to—I’d move, of course. And…” Justice Strauss shook her head. “I’m sorry, children, for my part in all of this. You tried to warn me, and I didn’t listen. But now I will do all I can to make it right.”

“Thank you,” Violet said. Her voice was barely a whisper, and Klaus hugged his sister tightly. 

He hoped this meant things would start to get better.

Chapter Text

“You thought you could escape me?” Olaf sneered at the siblings. “Thought your bookish, bratty brains could outsmart me? It was sheer luck that you got away from me before, and it won't happen again.” The count strode back and forth in front of them on the deck of the Prospero. The siblings edged away.“You see, this time I have outsmarted you. Because I am Count Olaf, and by this time next week, your enormous fortune..." Olaf paused for dramatic effect. "Will be mine!" He let out a laugh. It was a gravelly, sickening sound.

Violet looked at her siblings. Sunny was crying quietly in her arms, shaken by the loss of their uncle and by the loss of her snake friend, the Incredibly Deadly Viper. Klaus glared at Olaf.

“You are a wicked, wicked man,” Violet told him. “You will never win.”

“Oh, but I already have.” Olaf said, smirking at Violet. “Look around you, orphans. You are in my power. You are at my mercy. When we get to Peru, your fortune will be mine, and you will be dead. So naive, orphans. So noble . But your hearts can't save you now.” He sneered at them. “I am going to get a drink from the bar to celebrate my victory. Plot all you like, orphans. It won't help you now. After all, where do you have to go?”

The siblings watched Olaf recede from view. Sunny clung to her sister's shirt. “Nenoru,” she whispered, which meant something along the lines of “I don't want to die.”

“I know, Sunny.” Violet said. She tied her hair back with her ribbon to keep it out of her eyes, but try as she might, her inventive mind was stalled. All she could think about was how Uncle Monty looked when they'd found him that morning: pale, cold, stiff... It was enough to overload her. “Klaus, Sunny, do you have any ideas?” She asked shakily.

"We're in the middle of the ocean," Klaus said, "So we can't jump overboard and swim for shore.” Then his eyes widened. “Not yet at least,” he added slowly as if he were figuring something out.

"What do you mean?" Violet asked. "Do you want to jump overboard? Won't we die in Peru without food or water?"

“Tinuod.” Sunny said. She meant, “Klaus is right. We can't go with Olaf. Besides, we'll die if we stay.”

“Sunny's right, Violet.” Klaus told her. “It is our only option. Besides, I did a lot of research on the jungles of Peru for—" He broke off, voice cracking a little. Wiping at his eyes, he continued, "well, for our trip with Uncle Monty. I can help us survive for long enough to find help. I know what’s edible and what isn’t, and which animals and insects can kill us, and which can’t.”

“Okay.” Violet agreed. “When we see land, we jump ship. Olaf is overconfident. It's dangerous, but you and Sunny are right. Staying is more dangerous.” She nodded. “At least we'll be together.”

Chapter Text

Sunny jumped at the man, this 'Captain Sham' who had killed the Baudelaire’s aunt. Violet knew what she was trying to do. She wanted to bite his false leg off and reveal him to be Count Olaf. But Olaf simply scooped her up and patted her head. "See?" Olaf told her siblings. "Your baby sister likes me already."

"Well, children," Mr. Poe said. "As Sunny seems to like Captain Sham, I'll leave you here with your new father."

"Mr. Poe, wait!" Violet yelled. "Please! This man is Count Olaf! You can't leave us with him!" 

"Remember Stephano?" Klaus yelled desperately.

"Foute!" Sunny shrieked.

"Sunny, I don't understand you, but I assume you mean that you love your new father." "

"My sister means," said Klaus, "this man is not Captain Sham, he is Count Olaf, and she does not like him. Not at all."

Mr. Poe smiled at Violet, then at Klaus. "Now, children, I know that Count Olaf was very rude to you two but not everyone is Count Olaf. This man is Captain Sham. He has two eyebrows and he doesn't even have a left ankle."

"He wasn't just rude, Mr. Poe. That brute struck my brother, put my sister in a cage, tried to marry me, murdered our uncle, and now has murdered our aunt. And you expect us to go to him?"

"Oh, Violet, you'll see how wrong you are," Mr. Poe said affectionately. "Goodbye, children." With that, Mr. Poe left. Violet stared at Klaus. Klaus took Sunny back from Olaf.

"If you hurt a hair on any of our heads," Violet said, "I swear I will push you into Lake Lachrymose for the leeches. Like you did to Aunt Josephine." Violet's voice trembled with fear and rage.

"Oh, I'm shaking in my boots." Olaf laughed his terrible laugh. "Violet, do you really think that scares me? A threat from a fourteen-year-old? And me, a triumphant actor who will soon be very, very wealthy? I don't think so." He grinned at them. His triumphant smile showed jagged yellow teeth. "Come along, orphans. We're going to collect my fortune from the bank."

Violet shook her head. "No. We're not going with you. Take our money. We don't care, do we?" Klaus shook his head.

"Geen!" Sunny shrieked. 

"You know I don't understand your bucktoothed brat of a sister." Olaf snarled. "And I only need one of you to collect your fortune. Good thing one of you is small enough to run away with." And Olaf plucked Sunny from Klaus's arms.

"Sunny!" Violet yelled.

"Come back here with our sister!" Klaus shouted. He ran after Olaf, who laughed, got in his automobile, and then drove away.

Violet and Klaus chased after the car, but it soon got onto a highway, and they could not follow it anymore. Klaus screamed in rage, then slumped into Violet. 

"Klaus," Violet cried, "That evil man has our sister. What should we do?"

"I don't know," Klaus said miserably.

The siblings hugged each other tightly. "We'll get her back, Klaus," Violet said. "We'll find her."

Chapter Text

"Lucky!" Violet shouted. "Pull the log away from the saw!"

Klaus started to, but then, "Lucky!" screamed Foreman Flacutono. "Yes, you lucky midget, you, push the log towards the saw."

"Lucky!" Violet said again. "Away from the saw!"

"Lucky! Towards!" the foreman yelled.

"Lucky, away!" Violet cried.

"LUCKY!" A voice bellowed. "Don't listen to your sisters. Push that blasted man into the saw." It was Dr. Orwell. Klaus pushed the log towards the saw. Charles yelled in pain as the saw cut through his shoe and into his foot.

Violet screamed. She had never seen so much blood! And her poor brother was being hypnotized, and there was nothing she or Sunny could do! She began to think. Her innovative mind whirred.

Then, to make matters worse, Shirley appeared. "Lucky! Kill that man, then kill that bratty girl and the bucktoothed baby!"

With a final push, the entranced Klaus made the saw go faster. Charles, with a last horrible yell of agony, was cut in half. Klaus was now covered in blood, and Violet though she’d never seen anything so horrible in her life. She had to swallow the bile that rose in her throat, and she couldn’t stop the tears that came.

She began thinking harder than ever. Klaus picked up a de-barker and headed towards Sunny. "Klaus!" She screamed. "Lucky! Don't kill Sunny!" But Klaus paid her no mind. She grabbed his hands, trying to wrench the de-barker from him, but he elbowed her in the stomach. She fell backward. He clubbed Sunny on the head. She collapsed. Violet saw blood on her sister's head.

"SUNNY!" Violet screamed. She ran and picked up her baby sister. "Sunny!" She put her ear to her sister's chest. No heartbeat. No breath. She screamed in frustration and anger and pain. She pulled her sister close to her chest and ran as hard and fast as she could away from Paltryville. She heard sounds of pursuit. 

BANG! A gunshot rang out. She looked back. Her brother was chasing her, swinging a gun wildly. Where did he get a gun? Who gave her twelve-year-old brother a gun? Violet wanted to scream in frustration.

Violet picked up her pace. Her heart raced and so did her mind. What was the word? What word would bring her brother back to her? 

BANG! White-hot pain flared in Violet's right leg, and she collapsed. 

Klaus was approaching quickly. There was no more time.

What word was it?

She thought back. She felt her leg burn, felt the blood flow out. She had to stop the blood. She clasped her wound tightly with both of her hands, and she yelled in pain. No words, just a sound of pure agony. It reminded her of Charles and Phil.

Phil! He had said the word inordinate and her brother had gone back to himself. "INORDINATE!" Violet cried as loud as she could. "Inordinate, Klaus. Inordinate!" 

Klaus blinked at her. He looked down at his hands, which were bloody, and looked quizzically at the gun he held. "Violet, why—” He noticed the state his sister was in. "What happened to you? You've been-" Realization came to Klaus. "Shot." He said finally. He threw the gun as hard as he could and began to cry. "I'm so sorry, Violet. I didn't mean to! I promise I would never hurt you on purpose."

"I-I know, Klaus." Violet managed to say through gritted teeth. "Klaus... they made you kill Sunny." She wished she could take her baby sister into her arms one last time, but she didn't want to release the pressure on her wound. Klaus gasped and ran to Violet.

"Sunny!" He moaned. He collapsed next to the huddled forms of his sisters. "I did this?" He asked after a while, voice thick with tears.

"They made you do it, Klaus. Wasn't your fault." Violet assured her brother. 

“And you! You’re—you’re bleeding out. Here, let me put the pressure on. You just—just try to relax.” Klaus took off his shirt and removed her hands from her wound, folding the cloth methodically and pressing it against the bleeding hard. Violet saw stars and cried out. Klaus winced. “I’m really sorry," he said. He was crying outright now. "It's going to hurt. It has to. Direct pressure is the best way to stop life-threatening bleeding when you don't have a tourniquet,” he told her. “I read a book once—it doesn’t matter.” He let out a sob. “I’m sorry, Violet. For Sunny, and for this, and for everything. I’m so sorry.”

“Wasn’t your fault," Violet told Klaus again. She wished she could put her arms around him, but she was afraid if she moved, it would disrupt the pressure Klaus was putting on her wound, and that then she would— Violet didn’t want to think about it. So she just told him, “Love you, Klaus. Promise.”

But nothing could change the fact that Sunny Baudelaire was dead, Violet Baudelaire was shot, and Klaus...

Klaus Baudelaire had his sisters' blood on his hands.

Chapter Text

Imagine Klaus Baudelaire, age 16. He is a sophomore in high school. He is top of his class in most of his classes because his mind absorbs information like a sponge. Except for his Physical Education class, which he is failing. Klaus tries and tries, but every day, his Phys. Ed. teacher tells his class to run three laps around the track. 

And Klaus can't help but remember being forced to run lap after lap, his mind growing dull, and almost getting expelled, so when he is asked to run those three laps, his legs seize up and he can't move, can't, for the fear of falling over, and his teacher yells at him, "Baudelaire, get moving," which reminds him even more of Olaf's taunts as he and his siblings ran lap after lap, and he breaks down crying almost every P.E. period.

So finally his teacher requests a meeting with his parents and gives him a note to take home. Klaus opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure of how to explain that he will be meeting with Violet, his sister, who is only two years older than Klaus himself.

He takes the note home to Violet, who, as always, is tinkering away in her workshop. He gets her attention and wordlessly hands her the note. Violet reads it and understands, immediately. Her face softens, and she takes the ribbon out of her hair. "Klaus, it will be okay. We will work through this."

Klaus frowns and mutters, "It's messing with my average.” 

"Your—Klaus, what are you talking about?" Violet asks.

"My GPA, Violet, my grade point average! It's suffering! I- Violet, I know I can be a top student, I know I can! I have to!"

Violet stares at her brother, then finally says, "I suppose it does make sense. All that time, your mind feverishly working to help us survive, you've developed this want to always be working. Klaus, you can relax. He is dead. We have been proven innocent. It is okay."

"I don't want to fail, Vi. I can't." Klaus looks down. "I- I need to do this."

Violet looks at Klaus tenderly. "Klaus, if it really means that much to you, we can start running together. A little at a time, we'll build endurance and slowly, when you think of running, you'll think of me, not him."

Klaus looked up. "Thank you, Vi. That would be... that would be really nice."

"'Course, Klaus. Of course."

Chapter Text

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire hated Prufrock Prep. Sunny simply would not staple another stack of paper. Klaus refused to measure another object. Violet decided to boycott memorizing stories. And all three children were sick and tired of Olaf's running program, S.O.R.E. Though they couldn’t quite figure it out, they knew it was one of his schemes, and none of them wanted to let him win again. So one night, they snuck out of the Orphan Shack and tiptoed down the halls. 

A voice came from the shadows. "Wait!

Klaus hugged Sunny close to his chest. Violet put a protective arm around Klaus. 

However, instead of Olaf coming out of the shadows to whisk them away, or one of the members of his theater troupe coming to do something ghastly to them, the children saw Isadora and Duncan Quagmire.

A young boy sits crying in a secret passageway under his house. He has no time to wonder why it’s there. He’s too busy worrying about his siblings and his parents.

"Isadora!" Klaus said, relieved, while Violet cried, "Duncan!"

The five children embraced.

"Where are you two going?" Violet asked Isadora.

“‘This horrid school we can't abide, so therefore we will run and hide,’”Isadora recited. "I know it's a little cowardly, but—"

"It's not cowardly," Violet assured her. "We're running too. The adults can't protect us from Olaf. We're going to protect ourselves."

"Come with us," Duncan said. "We can run together."

Violet nodded. "Do you have supplies?"

"Yes. We got fruit from our dormitory," Duncan replied.

"There's nothing in the Orphan's Shack for us," Klaus remarked.

“No more Orphan Shack,” Isadora said, smiling at Klaus. “No more Prufrock.”

"Dolmacet!" Sunny shrieked.

"You're right, Sunny," Klaus said to his sister. "We're finally getting out of here."

The five orphans hurried through the empty halls, jumping out of their skin at every movement in the shadows. Finally, though, they found themselves outside the entrance of Prufrock Prep.

"We need to hurry,” Duncan said. “When Olaf realizes that you’re not at SORE, he’ll come for you, and then maybe us. I would bet anything he knows about our family’s sapphires.”

"Agreed," Violet and Isadora said together. Violet took a sleeping Sunny from Klaus and they began to walk briskly down the road away from Prufrock. 

A young boy sits in the empty glass room of the house that for some unknown reason was connected to his. He clutches a newspaper that declares him deceased—survied by his siblings. He knows where he is going to go because he has found an atlas.

After a while, Duncan asked, "Do we know where we're headed?"

"I think we need new clothes. Otherwise, any adult we find will just send us back there." Violet jerked her head towards the school.

Isadora sighed. Softly, she said, "Quigley would know where we are. Quigley would know where to go." 

Duncan offered her his hand and she took it.

The young boy prepares to leave the house that he has found, armed with some supplies and a map he has drawn. A well-read man gives him directions and information. He no longer knows where he should go.

The five friends walked in silence. Finally, Klaus said, "I don't know how we'd manage if we'd lost a sibling. In the past few months, Count Olaf has put us through things that we needed Violet's inventions and Sunny's teeth and my research to solve. I just..." Klaus couldn't continue.

"Can't imagine how it would feel to lose a sibling," Violet finished for him, slipping her hand into his.

Isadora reached out and took Violet's hand. They walked like this, hand in hand, for a long time.

The young boy decides to wait. His efforts to find his family have come to nothing. He decides to start to do some research but is stopped by fire again.

"What was he like?" Violet asked. "Quigley."

"He always had this thirst to explore," Duncan said. "He wanted to know things, go places. He studied our parent's maps. He loved to do that. He and Dora and I would sit in the library and Dora would write and I would study old newspapers and Quigley would sit and make himself this stack of atlases... Remember, Dora?" Duncan laughed softly, obviously remembering his brother.

"Yes. He would page through the atlases that our parents owned. He knew all the capitals of every country in the world." Isadora smiled.

"He took a test for me once. We had different history classes, and my teacher was testing geography, and I wasn't doing well in geography, and he took the test for me. We're identical, you know, me and him and Dora."

The young boy gathers clues quietly from scenes of great trauma. He hopes his siblings haven't endured worse. He wonders if they've made friends.

The orphans walked along for another stretch in silence. "I'm glad you came with us, Duncan and Isadora," Klaus said. "Journalism and poetry are skills that will probably come in handy."

"I wish we had an amateur cartographer," Duncan said quietly.

The young boy studies his surroundings and thinks that there are many inspirations for poet, and many interesting things for a journalist to comment upon. He makes a mark on his map.

"I remember the fire. Duncan and I had escaped and we couldn't find him. The fire... you don't expect it to be so quick, you know? Or so... so hot."

"We'd have fires in the fireplace when we were younger. When it was cold outside, we'd cozy up to the fire and Dora would read her poetry and Mother and Father would tell these wild stories that... that..." Duncan trailed off, frowning. "That we never thought could be true but they were; they always were, weren't they, Dora?"

"We didn't know them at all," Isadora said, finally.

The young boy walks briskly, pushing away his fear. He is a volunteer. He has friends who can help him find his siblings.

The children found a place to sleep for the night, sheltered from the road. They find their names in the paper the next day. The headline reads 'Wealthy Orphans Disappear From Prep School.'

Duncan read the first sentence of the article out loud. "Siblings Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire and twins Duncan and Isadora Quagmire have disappeared from Prufrock Preparatory School." He paused for a moment, then said, quietly but fiercely all the same, "We're triplets!" He handed the article to Klaus, who scanned and pocketed it.

The young boy scribbles something in his purple commonplace book and makes a mark on his map. He knows where he is going again. He looks down at a recent newspaper clipping he now holds dear and sighs. "We're triplets," he tells himself.

"Well, I'm glad that stayed quiet," Klaus said dryly.

"Enserio," Sunny said. She meant something along the lines of, "No kidding."

"Count Olaf will be looking for us. Mr. Poe will be too," Violet said soberly.

"We just have to stay ahead of them. We can take care of ourselves." Isadora strode forward, suddenly full of purpose.

The young boy sits in a taxi. He will ride up and down the roads leading away from the school until he finds his siblings.

"We're being tailed," Violet warned. "It's a taxi."

"Well, it's not Count Olaf, then," Klaus said. "He drives a long, black automobile."

The word 'quagmire' has several definitions. It can refer to an area of miry or boggy ground whose surface yields under wandering footsteps. For instance, if the Baudelaires and the Quagmires had wandered into a swamp and the ground was very soft underfoot, and Sunny became stuck in the mud, they would be walking through a quagmire. Sunny then would be in a different kind of quagmire, because she would be in a situation from which extrication is very difficult, because it is difficult for small children to unstick themselves from mud.

But when the word 'quagmire' is used here, it refers to a young boy of about thirteen clutching a purple commonplace book and a hand-drawn map.

Duncan saw him first. "Quigley?"

His cry made Isadora turn to look. "Quigley!"

The two triplets ran to be reunited with their brother.

"Isadora! Duncan! I found you! We found you!" Quigley hugged his siblings tightly. 

“I thought you were dead,” Isadora sobbed.

“How did you survive? We barely did!” Duncan asked, tears running down his face too. 

“I’ll answer all your questions, I promise,” Quigley said. He pressed his forehead to Isadora’s, then Duncan’s. “First, we need to get someplace safe.” Quigley turned to the driver of the taxi. "Thank you, Jacques. Isadora, Duncan, this is Jacques Snicket. He says he knew our parents." Quigley turned to face Violet, Klaus, and Sunny. "And yours too, Baudelaires."

"Children," said Jacques Snicket. "I know what you've been through and I know what you are running from. Why don't you come with me? I have many friends that can keep you safe and hidden until you come of age."

Isadora and Duncan looked to Quigley, who nodded, and they scrambled into the back of the taxi, Isadora and Duncan each clinging to one of Quigley’s hands. 

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny looked at each other. "Well, what have we got to lose?" Violet asked Klaus quietly.

"Oh, children." Jacques smiled at them. It was a friendly smile. "It is not what you have to lose, but all the things you now have to gain."

Violet and Klaus squeezed in next to their friends. "So, Mr. Snicket, where are you taking us?" Klaus asked.

"On."

The simple word seemed to calm the Baudelaires. Quigley turned in his seat to smile at his siblings. His smile was radiant as he said, "You'll see."

Chapter Text

The three Baudelaire children stared at the two elevator doors. "Violet," Klaus said. "None of the other floors have two elevators. I think this one must be ersatz."

"Erwha?" Sunny asked.

Violet also looked curiously at her brother. "Klaus, what does ersatz mean?"

"It's a German word," Klaus responded. "It means 'fake.' I read about it in Esme's library. German words were once very in."

"Enyi!" Sunny shrieked. She meant something along the lines of, 'Our friends might be trapped down there!'

"Good thinking, Sunny!" said Violet, who was tying her hair up in a ribbon to help her think. "And Olaf might move them at any moment. We should find some sort of rope, and we should bring bolt cutters if we can find them."

"Violet, Esme said that tools are out," Klaus reminded his sister. "I don't think she'll have them lying around.'

"Klaus, you're right." Then, suddenly, Violet's eyes lit up. "I have an idea. Klaus, find as many long metal objects as possible." Klaus went to do as his sister asked. Violet turned to Sunny. "Sunny, can you find some rope-like things that we can tie together?" Sunny nodded her head. "Alright, I'll find some heat sources. See you all soon."

An hour later, Violet had made welding torches. "For light," she explained. "And to melt a cage, if that’s what the Quagmires are being held in. If the Quagmires are being held in a net, Sunny can chew through it. And Klaus, you've finished tying those neckties together?" Klaus nodded his assent.

An hour after that, they were staring a cage that held their two best friends, Isadora and Duncan Quagmire.

"Violet, Klaus, Sunny!" Isadora said. "You found us!"

"Yes, and we're going to get you two out of there," said Violet. "Klaus, Sunny, you two have your torches, right? Let's melt this."

"Isadora, Duncan,  don't get close! It's hot," Klaus warned.

Soon after, there was a hole in the bars of the cage large enough for the two remaining triplets to crawl out of. The two disheveled children made their way quickly out of the cage and to the Baudelaires.

"Violet, Klaus, Sunny," said Duncan, "Olaf had us trapped in there. He was going to put us into one of the lots of the auction and whisk us away."

"He said he was working with a woman named Esme," Isadora said. "Do you three know her? I'd imagine she's dangerous."

"Esme?" Klaus asked. "Esme Squalor?"

Isadora looked at Duncan. "I don't know. He just said, 'Esme lives in the building this elevator shaft goes to, so don't even think about trying to escape.' He didn't say a thing about her last name."

Klaus's jaw dropped, as did his sisters'.

"Varrier!" Sunny shrieked. 

"My sister means," Violet said, "That Esme is our latest guardian. So she is in cahoots with Olaf!"

"So where do we go from here?" Duncan asked.

"We run," Isadora answered.

"Oh, will you?" The five children turned and gasped. It was the bald man with the long nose. "So the three bratty orphans came to save the sapphire twins."

"We're triplets! Just because our brother died doesn't mean we're not triplets!" Isadora said scornfully.

"Oh? Well, be careful, little girl, or you'll end up being an only child," threatened the villain. "Boss sent me down here to collect our two little gems, but he'll be even happier if I bring him the orphans as well."

Violet dashed forward and struck the bald man with the long nose over the head with a bundle of welding torches as hard as she could, and he went down.

“Run!” Violet shouted, and the children ran . The bottom of the elevator shaft seemed to be some kind of passageway.

The five children moved swiftly through the passage, Klaus having picked up Sunny. The passage wound on for quite a long while, and when they finally came out of it, Violet felt as if they’d run a mile or more. SORE had prepared her, so she wasn’t as exhausted as she might’ve been, but she was certainly winded. 

But the wind was knocked out of her again as they climbed, blinking in the sunlight, into the burned-out remains of the old Baudelaire mansion. 

“What is this place?” Duncan asked, a little hushed.

“Home,” Violet said quietly. 

“Why—why would—” Klaus shook his head. “Do you think Mother and Father knew?”

“I-I don’t know,” Violet replied. She shook herself off. “Let’s close off this passageway quickly. And… we’ll have to get out of here. We don’t know if Olaf and his troupe know where the passageway goes.”

The children worked together to pull debris over the trapdoor and looked around. The wreckage of Violet’s old home was roped off with caution tape.

“I know we have to leave, but…” Isadora trailed away, looking around. “Do you need a moment, Baudelaires? If this was our home…”

Violet looked at Klaus and Sunny, and they all came to a silent agreement. “No. We need to leave. We don’t know what Olaf’s plans are, but we need to get away. This is a big city; we can find someplace to hide.”

“Evael,” Sunny shrieked, which probably meant something along the lines of, ‘or we could leave the city and go somewhere else.’

“You’re right, Sunny,” Klaus said. “We should get out of here.”

They gathered themselves up, picked a direction, and started walking. Violet didn’t look back. This was her family now; her home. The scorched wreckage was just debris of the past. The passageway, the question of whether their parents knew... that could be tackled once her family was safe. 

Chapter Text

"Where will you live, children?" Mr. Poe asked them.

"Anywhere Olaf isn't," Violet said firmly.

"Da!" Sunny shrieked. 

"You can say that again, Sunny." Klaus agreed. "She said that we don't care where we live as long we're together."

"I know a place, then," Mr. Poe said. "Have you ever heard the saying, 'It takes a village to raise a child?'"

↞↞↞↞↞↞↞↞↞↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

"When Mr. Poe said that idiom, I didn't think he meant literally," Klaus told Violet.

"I know. Now we're here in the middle of Suburbia," Violet said.

"VFD!" Sunny shrieked. She meant something along the lines of, 'I wish Mr. Poe had chosen that town VFD. Maybe we could find the Quagmires.'

"I know, Sunny," Violet said, holding her sister close. She was full of anxiety about their only friends in the world. Even now, Olaf could be doing something horrible to them.

But then her thoughts slowly turned to all the horrible things the people in this town could do to her and her siblings. Yes, these chairs were comfortable, but a new place always meant Olaf. She wondered if he was already here, disguised. Maybe even in this room, behind the bench? There were five people sitting there who must be councilors.

The person sitting in the middle banged his gavel against the bench. "The meeting of Suburbia's council will come to order. Today, we discuss the placement of these three youngsters in our village. I move to give the children the floor."

"I second it," A woman said. "All in favor?" All the adults raised their hands.

"Motion carried," the one with the gavel said. "Children?"

Violet stood up, holding Sunny close. Klaus put an arm around her. "If I may ask,” Violet said, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice, “who are you?"

"Oh, how rude of me!" The middle one said. "I'm Mayor Jay Hawkins. To my immediate right is Councilor Henrietta Welsch, and to her right is Councilor Boris Utgard. To my immediate left is Councilor Tom Hesler, and to his right is Councilor Mae Chen."

“And h-how—” Violet swallowed. “Forgive me for my rudeness. But how long have you all been serving on this c-council?” Usually, they could tell right away when Olaf was in disguise, but maybe he’d sent a new henchman, or his disguises had gotten better. It was better to be rude and alive than to be politely dead.

The mayor smiled down at her. She was not comforted. “We’ve been briefed on your situation by Mr. Poe,” he said. “He seemed rather flippant about it, but… rest assured, Violet, none of us are in disguise. I’ve been serving as mayor for the last three years, and I’ve lived in Suburbia my whole life. In fact, we haven’t had new residents here in quite some time. You’re the first in—what would you say, Henrietta? Five years?”

“At least,” Henrietta responded. “I’ve been serving on the council for two years, and the rest of my colleagues predate me. I don’t know how much this calms your fears—if I’d been chased by such an evil man, I’d certainly be nervous in a new town. But we hope you’ll be happy here.”

For a while Violet said nothing. She was nervous. And everything here was so new. Even how kind the adults were was making her more and more nervous. She squeezed Klaus’s hand. Finally, to be polite, she said, "Thank you, Mayor Hawkins. Thank you, Councilor Welsch.”

"Of course,” the mayor said. “Now, unless you have more questions for us, we would love it if you would tell us about yourselves."

“Ocaut!” Sunny shrieked. 

“Sunny!” Klaus hissed. 

She meant something along the lines of, “Will you believe us when we tell you somebody is Count Olaf or his henchmen?”

“We’ve been told your sister has a unique language that you can understand,” the councilor to the mayor’s left, Tom Hesler, said. “Would you translate?”

Hesitantly, exchanging a glance with Klaus that meant ‘What choice do we have?’, Violet translated.

“Of course, children,” Mae Chen told them. “We were heartbroken to hear of the homes you’ve lost because of that terrible man. As Jay said, we weren’t terribly happy with how flippant your Mr. Poe was about your troubles.”

"Thank you,” Violet told the council finally. She still held on tightly to Klaus’s hand and Sunny’s small body. Unfortunate event after unfortunate event meant that Violet wasn’t willing to let her guard down. But there wasn’t much more to ask, and she didn’t want to be rude, so she said, “We can’t tell you how much that means to us. I'm Violet. I’m fourteen, and I enjoy engineering and inventing mechanical devices."

"My name is Klaus. I’m twelve and I enjoy reading and research."

"Sun!" Sunny shrieked. "Bite!"

"Our sister means," Klaus said, "that she enjoys biting hard objects like rocks or carrots. She doesn't bite people. Her name is Sunny Baudelaire, and she’s two."

"Thank you, Violet. Children, you may be seated." The mayor got up from behind the bench and went to open the door. 

Two women came in. One had long red hair in a braid down her back, and the other had short hair that had been dyed blue. The one with red hair came up to the bench, but instead of addressing the council, she addressed the children. "Hello, Baudelaires," She said. "My name is Charlotte Mayes, and I was wondering if you would like to live with me and my wife, Lynn. We've wanted children for a long time, you see, and Lynn and I would really love to take care of you. We’ve lived here in Suburbia all our lives. I’m a teacher at the local school, and Lynn takes care of a flock of chickens. We produce eggs for the town."

Violet couldn’t speak. Something was blocking her airway. New guardians. Would they be like Uncle Monty and Aunt Josephine and Charles? Would these women die soon because of them? Or would they be like Esme, already in cahoots with Olaf? Perhaps two of Olaf’s henchwomen had taken the real Charlotte and Lynn’s place days ago when Esme and Olaf went on the run. 

She managed to look over at Klaus, and she could see that there was a similar sort of paralysis in his eyes. 

“I—I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she managed to say after a few long moments.

“We wouldn’t work you like he did,” Lynn rushed to say. “You don’t have to help with the chickens or anything like that.”

“N-no,” Violet said. “That’s n-not it. I—” she broke off. She was clinging to Klaus now as if he was the only stable thing in a room about to collapse. She didn’t like being this vulnerable in this room. “When Olaf comes,” she said finally, “either you’ll be c-collateral damage or turn out to be working with him. We’re very responsible. We c-could—If we had just a small space somewhere; a corner or a closet or a shack, we could take care of ourselves, and then we would all b-be in far less danger.”

“We couldn’t put you in a shack!” Councilor Boris Utgard exclaimed.

“We already lived in one before,” Klaus said. “At our old boarding school.”

“That’s terrible,” Charlotte said, aghast. “I—I know terrible things have happened to you children,” she said. “The council passed along much of what Mr. Poe told them to us. And we understand if you don’t trust us now. Or ever, honestly. But you’re still children. Fourteen is too young to take care of your twelve-year-old brother and a baby, Violet.”

“We want to take this at your speed,” Lynn said. “But you need a roof over your head and real guardians to keep you safe.”

“Popcock!” Sunny shrieked.

“M-my sister means,” Klaus said, “that we have never had a guardian that could keep us safe from Olaf. Right now, we don’t know if he’s already here, or if—” Klaus squeezed Violet’s hand. “Or if he’s doing unspeakable things to our friends the Quagmires.”

“Well…” Charlotte was clearly thinking hard. “Can we persuade you to stay the night in the hotel in town? We’d pay.”

“No need,” Mayor Hawkins said. “As of now, the children are still the responsibility of the whole town. They’d stay for free. And I think that’s a good solution for now. They can stay in the hotel if that would make them feel safer. And they’d go to school, and that would familiarize them with you, Charlotte.” He turned back to the children. “We don’t have many students here, since we’re such a small town, so Charlotte and one other teacher look after the whole school. What do you think about that? We can delay your official adoption as long as you’d like.”

Violet burst into tears, and Klaus looked like he was soon to follow. She hugged Sunny to her chest.

“A-are you alright, Violet?” Charlotte asked, before shaking her head and grimacing. “Stupid question. Of course you aren’t. Well… will you let Lynn and I get you settled in your rooms?”

“Room, please,” Klaus said. “I want to be able to see them.”

Violet hastened to agree, and added, “And we’d only need one bed, truly.”

“We’ll give you one room with two beds and a cradle,” the mayor said. “And… we hope you’ll settle in here.”

“W-we thank you for your accommodations,” Violet managed to say. “You’re being very kind, and we’re sorry that—”

“No need, children,” Councilor Welsch said, smiling. “We understand.”

Suburbia was pleasant. The hotel room was nice. It had two queen-sized beds and a cradle under the window, as promised. Everybody was being so kind, and yet… Violet couldn’t let relief course through her yet. Olaf could still be lurking. 

And she wondered, after she’d put Sunny in her cradle and said goodnight to Klaus, if this was her life now. This fear, this mistrust.

She hated Olaf for it.

Chapter Text

"Klaus, come on!" Violet whispered. "I know you're miserable. I am too. But we have to get away from here." She put Sunny down to rest her own back for a moment.

"I can't believe they were right there... Everything we wanted, Vi!" Klaus wept. "A peaceful, safe life with Hector and Isadora and Duncan. Now we're in the middle of the desert, alone, and the whole world thinks we're criminals, that Olaf is dead... I can't take it, Vi! I want to go home!" The thirteen-year-old leaned on his sister heavily. "I don't know what we're going to do."

"I know." Violet fought back tears herself. "But nowhere is home. We have to get away from here before people find us and call the authorities."

"Angcono," Sunny said, suddenly. Her siblings turned to her in shock. She meant, ‘The authorities are better than Olaf. If they have us in custody, he can't hurt us anymore.’

"Sunny, I don't understand," Violet told her youngest sibling. "You want us to give ourselves up to the police?"

Much to her siblings' surprise, Sunny rose unsteadily to her feet, then spoke. "Olaf is bad!" Sunny argued. The use of regular words shocked Violet to the core. Her baby sister really was growing up. Her first steps... her first real sentence...

And the rest of her life would be spent on the run, or in prison.

But Klaus saw a glimmer of hope. "I think Sunny's right, Vi," he said, taking her hand. "We're alone, a two-year-old, a thirteen-year-old, and a fourteen-year-old, on the run, in the middle of nowhere. We know what Olaf will do to us. At least we'll be together if the police get us. At least we'll be alive."

Violet thought it over. "Klaus... Sunny... I love you two more than anything in the world," she said finally. "I don't want either of you to ever be hurt again. And this running, this fear... the control Olaf has over our lives..." Violet sighed. "You're right. Let's find a phone and call them ourselves. We can show we're innocent by giving ourselves up. We'll show we have nothing to fear from a trial. And maybe the police will trust us. We are children."

Half an hour later, police vehicles surrounded their position at a phone booth they had found in the wilderness. 

"Keep your hands where we can see them!" An officer called.

A tall black police officer came closer to Violet, gun aimed at her chest. She flinched and stepped in front of her baby sister. “Please don’t shoot!” she cried. “We’re g-giving ourselves up.”

"They're children," the officer said. He lowered his gun and waved other officers closer. "Detectives?"

"These are the perps?" A woman asked gruffly. "Veronica, Klyde, and Susie Baudelaire are kids?"

"Terry doesn't like arresting kids," a man—presumably Terry—remarked.

"P-please, officers, the Daily Punctilio got their facts wrong," Violet stammered. "My name is Violet, and these are my siblings, Klaus and Sunny. My sister is accused of m-murder. Th-the Daily Punctilio said that S-susie Baudelaire killed someone, b-but my sister’s name is Sunny , and she didn't do it. Please believe us," Violet said desperately. "We're so afraid."

"The baby is younger than Nikolaj," Another man said, softly. He nudged another man. "Look, Jake, she can barely stand up."

"Captain, Charles is right. Doesn't it seem a little off that the one accused of murder is the baby?" Jake asked the captain.

"We should at least question them before arresting them, Captain. They don't seem like they're about to run away," said a woman with her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail.

The first officer who had spoken—the captain—nodded. "I agree, Santiago.” he turned to Violet. “My name is Captain Raymond Holt, Ms. Baudelaire. We have a few questions for you. Your sister has been accused of murder. What exactly happened"

Hesitantly, Violet told the captain their whole story. How Olaf had tried to marry her, then how he killed Uncle Monty and Aunt Josephine, how he'd hypnotized Klaus, impersonated a gym teacher, kidnapped the Quagmires, and framed her sister for murder. She was crying by the end of her story.

The captain seemed deep in thought. "What do you think, squad?"

"I think she's probably telling the truth," Jake replied. "Look at her. She’s what, sixteen?"

“Fourteen,” Violet said. All the detectives reacted as if she’d said something shocking.

“Okay, so that’s much worse. I don’t like it, Captain,” the gruff woman said.

"And she and her siblings called us. They gave themselves up," Terry added. "Why would they do that if they're guilty?”

“He’s right, captain,” put in the woman with the neat ponytail—Santiago. “They could've just kept running, but they didn't. That has to count for something."

"I have to agree with all of you." the captain turned to Violet. "Ms. Baudelaire, I'm going to bring you and your siblings back to our precinct. Then we'll talk further."

Chapter Text

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire held their breath as Count Olaf and his theater troupe left the car. Then, quickly and quietly, the three children carried out the plan they had formulated in the trunk of Olaf's car. 

Sunny looked around for a bag and any food supplies or money. After a moment's hesitation, she also took Olaf's car keys—he’d left them in the ignition—and bit all four wheels, as well as the spare. She wanted a large head start. Then the youngest Baudelaire crawled all around the villain's car, picking up objects and examining them as fast as she could.

Klaus took any scrap that had writing on it. It might be a part of the Snicket file. Though he couldn't find many books, he did find a sheaf of paper. He looked at it and saw blocks of handwritten words. Immediately, he picked out two. 'Baudelaire,' and 'Quagmire.' He looked at the page for a moment more, then tucked it away, searching for more papers.

Violet gathered disguises, clothing, and materials for inventions. Then she looked down at the trunk of the car and saw a long, sharp knife—the same knife 'Stephano' had threatened Sunny with, all those long months ago. She bit her lip, closed her eyes tightly, and then picked up the knife, which she held carefully by the handle. She thought that she might look like an evil spirit to passersby, with the hospital gown she wore blowing around her knees in the wind and the blade she held in her right hand.

Then Violet consolidated the things that they found into a duffel bag Sunny had procured and shouldered it. Klaus picked up his baby sister, and the three children ran into a nearby forest. Violet wordlessly handed coats to her siblings before taking one for herself, slipping the knife into one of the coat's deep pockets. 

"Klaus, any luck?" She said finally.

"I don't know. I'll have to read through everything when we get a moment," Klaus replied. "But I know there's a paper with our names on it. Us and the Quagmires." He sighed, hating being in the dark. "Sunny, what about you? Anything helpful?"

"Fukil," Sunny said. She meant something along the lines of, 'If it's not all rotten.' She rummaged through the duffel. She brought out a handful of dollar bills and coins and a few pieces of bread, cheese, and fruit. She also had found several jars, one filled with what seemed to be olives, one filled with possibly spoiled milk, and one with a hunk of something that might be meat. She could still taste the rubber she had bitten.

They heard a crack behind them. The two older Baudelaires whirled around. Violet pulled the knife out of her pocket. Klaus stared into the trees. When nothing came out, Klaus sighed and turned to his sister. Then his face changed. "Violet, is that the knife 'Stephano' had?" He asked warily.

"Yes," Violet replied. "It's better I have it than he does." She said it to convince herself as much as her brother. She slipped the knife back into her pocket and sat down. "We'll spend the night here. Then we'll leave. We'll go as far away from here as possible, and try to sustain ourselves on our own."

Chapter Text

"Are you... sure about this?" Klaus asked finally, staring at the hole that he, Quigley, and his sister had dug to capture Esme Squalor. Although Esme was Olaf's villainous girlfriend and had been a terrible guardian for the Baudelaire siblings, did she really deserve to be trapped in a pit and used as a hostage to get their sister back?

Violet looked back at him helplessly. "Yes." She turned away from the pit and stared up the mountain where Olaf had their sister- no longer a baby, as she had made painfully clear to Violet. "What choice do we have?" She said quietly, then turned to Quigley. "You have the masks?"

Quigley nodded grimly. "I'm sorry, Klaus. I'm sorry, Violet. I'm sorry that this is necessary." He handed a mask to both siblings, then donned his own. 

Klaus felt his heart clench in his chest as he turned the mask over in his hands. Were he, Violet, and Quigley really any better than Count Olaf and his theater troupe if they went through with this? 

Violet, obviously as troubled as he was, put her hand on his back. "Listen, Klaus, whether or not this makes us wicked, we have noble intentions, and that is more than Olaf can say. Our sister is up there, risking her life so we can learn more about Olaf's schemes. I feel that this is the least we can do, because even if—" Violet's voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Even if our sister isn't a baby anymore, she is still a child. And I want—oh, god, Klaus, I want to protect her." A tear fell, then another. "She shouldn't be risking her life for us." Violet slipped the mask on, covering her tears.

Klaus embraced his sister tightly. He stared into her masked face, certain she understood what he was trying to say. Then, his heart heavy, emotions swirling uncomfortably in his stomach, he put on his mask, lit a Verdant Flammable Device, and threw it into the pit.

Then he, Violet, and Quigley stepped back to watch. To see whether their plan had worked.

A dark shape moved at the top of the mountain. Then got closer and closer and closer. And fell, fell, fell, fell into their pit, and their scheme had worked, at least the first part of it.

And they were no longer noble, were they?

"Help me out of here!" Demanded Esme Squalor. "You masked people must know better than to hold a lady who is so In with Count Olaf."

Violet glanced at Klaus, then cleared her throat. "Count Olaf is holding a young girl," Violet told Esme in a disguised voice. "We will give you back to him in exchange for the girl."

"Of course Olaf would agree to that,” Esme said, tossing her head. “He loves me more than any fortune."

That was that, then. The terms of their hostage switch had been arranged. Quigley found a knife from the burned-out VFD kitchen. He held it to Esme's throat. Violet handed Klaus a pair of ice-climbing shoes, then threw some at Esme. "You'll need those," she said in her disguised voice. "Put them on." 

Esme complained and complained, but finally, they reached the top. The scene was chilling. Olaf had a gun. Sunny was cowering near his car. Two people she didn't know, a woman with hair but no beard, and a man with a beard but no hair, loomed about ten feet away, somehow more terrifying than Olaf himself.

Klaus steeled himself, taking a deep breath, before saying in his disguised voice , "We have something you want. You can have her back if you give us Sunny Baudelaire."

"Olaf! These very Out masked people have taken me hostage," she pouted. "Give them the bratty, bucktoothed baby and you can have me back."

Olaf looked at the elder Baudelaire siblings and the lone Quagmire triplet, all three masked, Quigley holding a knife to his girlfriend's throat. Then he let out a wicked, wicked laugh. "I need that bucktoothed baby brat if I am to have the Baudelaire fortune."

Esme pouted again. "But, Olaf—" and the villain silenced her with a wave of his gun.

"I can find another girlfriend. She-" Olaf pointed, and Klaus saw his sister, crouching behind the villain's car. Looking scared. "Is the only Baudelaire brat left."

Esme crossed her arms. "Olaf, you knew me before you wanted the brats' fortune. Aren't I more important to you than—"

Olaf shot the gun into the air, cutting her off. “Shut up, Esme.”

Her eyes widened, and she seemed to understand then, as Klaus now did, that Olaf didn’t care about her at all. That this had all been for nothing. They had nothing to bargain with... what now?

Klaus looked towards Sunny. 

She was the priority. Getting his little sister out of here.

Violet must've had the same thought, as she began edging over to the car where Sunny sat weeping.

Klaus knew he had to keep Olaf's attention on him to keep his sisters safe. "The child," he said in his high voice. "Give her over. We don't want a fight, but..." he left the empty threat hanging. 

Olaf seemed to know the threat was empty, but at least his attention was still on them, the gun pointed towards them, and not his sisters. "Why do you want the baby brat? Are you VFD?"

Violet tripped on a patch of ice, and Olaf whirled and shot. She ducked and the bullet slammed into the villain's car. Violet screamed, dashed towards Sunny, and held her tightly.

Now Klaus ran too. Beside him, Quigley brandished his knife. But Olaf was approaching with his gun, and his theater troupe came closer.

Klaus went into a dead spring. He needed to reach his sisters. 

Finally, he and his siblings embraced. A gunshot rang out, then another. Klaus wasn’t sure where Quigley was anymore. More horrible… he wasn’t sure he cared. He just held his family tighter, cowering. This was all he could think about. This was all that could matter right now. 

Klaus thought about the discussion they had at the burned-out ruins below.

‘Noble’ was out of the question. He would just take ‘alive.’