A/N: This is my first AHS fan-fiction. I watched the first season and I became absolutely enthralled with Violate. Now, I'm terrible at writing ships, so please be a little patient with me...it's kind of ironic that two people can create such a teenage angst-fest like Glee, then turn around and create a mind-fuck like American Horror Story... I got this idea from a Violate video I saw on YouTube.

Disclaimer: I own no one of American Horror Story. It belongs to their rightful owners.

Summary: She swore she would never let him back in, never let him hurt her again. She swore she would never forgive him, but dammit, if he didn't try...


Families came and went, but the Harmon family remained. Not by choice, mind you, but they learned to cohabit with the previous owners. Violet learned to adapt a 'it is what it is' attitude about the situation. And then there was Tate, the boy who hurt everyone in her family in a very big way and yet still had the gall to try to make it up to her. She nibbled on the edge of her thumb in frustration before slapping her wrist with a rubber band. It was such a stupid cliché girls used to get over the guys they were in love with, but it was surprisingly effective. When Violet thought about Tate, she merely tugged on the rubber band and she jolted from her thoughts.

Then there was Hayden. There was no lack of trying to sneak Ben from Vivien and she was vindictive enough to try for second-best: Tate Langdon.

You don't care anymore, Violet told herself, flicking the band again, twice this time. You don't care about him. You told him to go away.

She spent her days playing with Beauregard, Tate's brother. Beau was content to just roll the ball back and forth and clap excitedly when it reached his waiting hands.

"Play!" came the excited cry when he saw her. Violet gasped at the sudden outburst.

"Not now, Beau," she told him in a hushed voice. Immediately, his head bowed and he scampered to collect the red ball.

"Play?" he repeated hopefully. Violet shook her head sadly and he let out a disappointed sigh. Ordinarily, she would love to play with him a few rounds, but only if she wanted to roll the ball for hours on end.

"Maybe later," she conceded before walking down the now all too familiar hallway. Her black Converse high-tops scuffed on the worn, squeaking floors as she made her way down the stairs. When she said she loved the house, she hadn't known she would end up staying there for an eternity.

Once upon a time, she would have been fine with eternity in the Murder House. That was when she had Tate and she lived in ignorant bliss of all the evil he had done in his life, both living and dead. Before she knew what a monster he was.

He spent the first year of her eternity begging for her forgiveness. After a while, he kept his distance, but she could feel his dark eyes on her wherever she turned. Violet had always been tempted by darkness, but dipping her feet in it for so long with Darkness personified had burned her. She wanted to forgive him, to love him again, but she couldn't find it in herself to do it. He put on a latex suit and raped her mother. Gave birth to a monster.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Violet dropped her gaze to the rubber band to see it spotted with blood.

"That old rubber-band snapping trick?" came the mocking comment from behind her. Violet turned around to see Hayden standing with her arms folded across her chest and grimaced. "Boy, you really are desperate, aren't you?"

"Fuck off," she snarled.

"It's kind of tragic if you think about it, Catherine. Your Heathcliff killed so many people and fathered a child out of rape with your mother while donning a latex BD-SM suit, yet you still love him...that's fifty shades of fucked up," Hayden drawled.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, you home-wrecking whore?" Violet countered. "At least someone loves me." She felt a jolt of satisfaction at the way Hayden's face fell.

"And you throw him away like yesterday's garbage," Hayden spat.

"Go away!" Violet yelled, squeezing her eyes shut and holding on to her dirty blonde hair in fistfuls. When she opened her eyes, that irritating little redhead vanished. She curled up in the window seat, hugging her knees and staring out the window. "Kiss me again, but don't let me see your eyes. I love my murderer, but yours...how can I?" she murmured the infamous Wuthering Heights quote.

"And I pray one prayer. I pray it till my tongue stiffens, Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you...haunt me then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts do wander the Earth. Be with me always, take any form...drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss where I cannot find you. Oh, God, it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"

Tate's quote from the famous tragic novel always beat out what Violet thought Heathcliff sounded like. Smooth and rough, his voice was like velvet.

"I didn't take you a fan of the classics," Violet commented, not taking her eyes from the window. She couldn't; that quote hit far too close to home and fit their situation perfectly, and meeting Tate's dark brown eyes would dissolve her instantly.

"When you have eternity, you tend to spend it doing tedious things. Reading classics, cookbooks...I could probably bake a chocolate-rum soufflé easily," he responded.

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips and she shook her head with a dry chuckle. "You were always so full of shit," she remarked.

"Once upon a time, you loved that," he reminded her. Violet shook her head and nestled closer to the cold glass of the window in her old room. The familiar furniture had long since been thrown out, but her beloved window seat remained, thankfully. "Talk to me, Vi."

"I thought that was what we were doing," she snarked at him.

"Not much of a conversation if you're hellbent on staring out that goddamned window," Tate returned. "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

Violet's hazel eyes snapped up to meet his in shock. "You don't just apologize for all the shit you put us through, Tate!" she informed him icily.

Her beautiful, sadistic monster actually looked hurt as he recoiled from her words as if she'd slapped him. Hell, she wished she had. "It's in my nature...I thought you understood that," he said.

"And I told you that I can't forgive you until you've paid for what you've done and until you've fixed this!"

She knew he couldn't.


Tate felt numb. Everywhere. The impulse to go out and do something stupid reared its ugly head once more, but he found himself anchored to his spot. Normally, he would go and pick a fight with one of the queers to satiate his violent cravings, but this time, he resisted.

Violet was responsible for this change and he both hated and loved it. Tate never felt like this about anyone before Violet and he wouldn't ever feel the same way about anyone after her. She changed the darkness into light, the monster into a tame beast. He had never felt like he could do anything because of someone and she made him believe he could.

He told her that he would leave her alone if it was what she wanted, but deep down, it killed him to keep his distance. Violet Harmon was his angel, the only light in the hellhole that was the Murder House. Tate was love-starved without her. Constance had neglected him, belittled him, abused him...

But the first person to show him any affection was Nora Montgomery and she was a fucking ghost. The other person to show him any love that he felt he could freely reciprocate was Violet. She pushed him away, yelled at him to leave her alone and go away, but it broke her heart as well as his.

He heard a crunch and looked down to see his dead black rose under his shoe. Tears immediately flooded his vision as he picked up the dry bloom. Memories of when he gave it to his odd little flower raced through his mind.

"I know how you don't like normal things."

Tate stroked the petals and inhaled it. Old paint and dead rose fragrance filled his senses and his eyes squeezed shut.

Fuck it. He would try one more time to get back the love of his life, to make her his for eternity.