Title: Forgotten Love

Author: mng042197

Summary: Forgiveness is hard, but forgetting is easy. The punishment for his sins is this—fallen into the recesses of her mind so that, to her, he never even existed, doomed to love her eternally. A girl who doesn't even know his name…

Spoilers/Warnings/Triggers: Rated M for language and whatever.

Author's note: Hope everyone enjoys. This was my AHS fic-exchange request. Just a quick one shot but I think it turned out well. Have fun and happy REVIEWING, people!

Disclaimer: I do not own American Horror Story.

Such a long time had passed since her death that she couldn't remember anything anymore. She couldn't feel any pain, couldn't recall any of her life. The cd's hidden away in the attic that she had once listened to daily, whenever the house was empty, had long ago been covered with dust and spider webs and the checker board beside them which she had burned was nothing but a sad pile of ash in the corner. Violet liked to look at it sometimes, and try to wonder at what it had once been. She could feel the energy behind it, a certain connection—as sadness which it evoked from her dead, forgotten soul. But she could never remember quite what.

It was Vivien who had hoped she would forget more than anyone, hoped she might waste away into confusion so that she wouldn't have to be in pain. And she had gotten her wish, but with the ignorance her mother saw a new anger and resentment much stronger than the past one, so cold and lifeless that there was almost no humanity left in her daughter's lovely brown eyes. She had become nothing so abruptly that there was nothing anyone could do to rescue her. It was that day when Violet changed for good that Vivien realized the truth: that pain was sometimes better than unawareness.

Violet existed all on her own now, hidden away in the darkness of the attic, staring out the window at the world below that no longer made any sense to her. She remembered living in it; she remembered all of the wonderful things that she had so loved. But she couldn't seem to draw a connection between that Violet and the creature that she was now. She had changed sometime, sometime in all of the confusion that surrounded her end.

End. Because, of course, she didn't believe that she was dead, only trapped in a hell that she could not ever escape.

Tate liked to watch her, yet he never would reveal himself. She didn't want to see him, and she wouldn't remember him regardless. He was a blur to her, a passing shadow that she was afraid of, a figure in the darkness that she would catch a glimpse of and then shy away from. But all he wanted was her. For years, he had thought of nothing but the feel of her skin against his, the sound that came from her beautiful lips when they made love. He couldn't forget the way that she would smile slyly at him when she knew she was right, or her voice forming the words "I love you," saying him name.

It was Halloween again and he watched her as she slept peacefully. This was the only time when she didn't seem angry or bitter or confused. It was the one moment in time when he could look at her, touch her, and imagine that she still loved him, the one moment when he could pretend that he wasn't a monster, that they would still be destined to spend an eternity lost in love. He ran his hand down her arm from her shoulder and she stirred underneath him feather light touch, rolling onto her side and mumbling something that he couldn't quite understand.

"Oh, Violet…" he sobbed, tears running down his pallid cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry you never got to go all the places you wanted to go. I wanted you to have everything; I really did, I swear. But this house…this God damn house…it got in the way. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and alive. And I wanted you to love me. I wanted you to love me forever." Tate took a deep breath, steadying himself as he looked deeply into the hoods of her closed eyes, the curve of her lips as she breathed slowly in and out. "I remember you told me you wanted to go Europe and just backpack all over. You told me that you were gonna have a life out there too, like I always said. I was so much like you, Violet, but you were good. You could have had what I couldn't, and I ruined that for you.

"I would have gone with you if I could have. If we had been alive together, in the right place and the right time, I would have followed you anywhere. I could have been good for you. You changed me. My life would have been…so different. Remember when I looked out at the ocean and said that that was my life…that high school counted for jack shit? If you had been in my life, that would have been true. I could have done it, Vi. I could have done anything if it meant I could have you."

He was hysterical now, sobs ripping from deep within his chest. Time had not dulled his love as it had Violet's memory. She was everything to him—the moon and the stars and all of the life and potential that he had wasted in one moment of complete insanity. He knew that it was his entire fault, that he had been wrong and evil, that he had destroyed the whole world, taken the lives and happiness of so many people. He wished with all of his black little heart that he could take it back, but he couldn't. So he just cried. He cried and cried until, before he even realized what he had done, he was curled up on the bed beside the only person who had ever meant anything to him in his filthy, disaster of a life.

Violet could feel warm, strong arms around her, feel hard cries shaking her body with his. She couldn't remember who was crying, but it felt familiar and safe. She had been in this place before, just like this with a boy that had been important even if she couldn't remember why. Groggily, she opened her eyes, ran her hands down his arms this time, running her fingers of the exposed scars and matching them to her own. This, she remember and for once Violet didn't feel so lost.

Rolling over, Tate realized that she had awoken. His body stiffened as she looked into his deep black eyes, searching them for something, her eyebrows creased, her soft pink lips pursed into a hard line. Her fingers came up to graze his cheek, wiping the tears that stained the skin there and she herself felt wetness pooling at the corners of her own eyes. "I remember you." Violet whispered, her mouth hanging open for a second as she examined the plains of his perfect face, his messy blonde hair, his rumpled clothing. "I remember you." She said again, leaning her forehead against his. "Tate. You're Tate. And I'm Violet."

For a moment he smiled, laughed a little even for the first time in what felt like an eternity. As he tried to count the years, he began to think it just might have been. Then, he thought again and his smile fell. "What else do you remember, Vi? Do you remember…what I did to your mother?"

He knew it would ruin the moment, but he couldn't let her do this to herself. If he had her now, and she regretted it later, that would kill him. It would crush him permanently and she would hate him for much longer than just forever. "I…I think…" she paused for a long moment, a flash of anger running across her beautiful face. It was that same disgust that she had felt years and years before and, as she relived this new memory, she hated the reminder of it. Tate had done the unimaginable. But eternity was a very long time. "I remember everything." The sentence rushed out of her with one single exhale of a breath and she felt a weight lifted from her shoulders. She had seen it all again, all the pain and regret and suffering. And with her new eyes she made a decision. "I want to forget, Tate. I don't want to remember what you did anymore."

It came as such a shock to him that this was really happening that he was sure that his dead heart was about to die again—out of sheer happiness. Could this be a dream, he wondered. But even if it was he'd already decided that he would never wake up. This darkness was the most divine place in the world now, and talk of travel and a life on the outside had completely left him mind. He would stay in that demonic house forever if it meant that Violet would be there to love him once again.

"Do you mean that, Vi? Can you really forgive me?"

"I haven't forgiven you, Tate. I've decided that I forgot." They both smiled as she finished the last words she would ever speak regarding this subject. "I forgot, and I do like to remember. But I've been alone for a very long time and I don't want to be alone anymore. I want to be with you. So, I forget."

And as their lips met for the first time in decades, as his sinful, dirty, bloody hands curved themselves around the most sensitive parts of her tiny body, there was born a new covenant between the two. Of course, Tate would always be a monster, and Violet would always know. But love was stronger than that. Compassion was stronger than that, and they would find there twisted peace beneath the rubble of his murderous ways.

"I love you." Tate whispered against her mouth.

And, for once, she answered him back. "I love you too, you sick bastard." Their laughs mingled together, evolving into moans and entangled bodies joining together in the most intimate way that the two lovers knew, their companionship recovered by the mercy of their long forgotten love.