A/N: It was much easier to skip over raising these children. Now they're adults (and a teenager) so writing will be much much easier on me. Couldn't leave it without a little drama though, I'm just not really sure where I'm going to take it yet...
Love to all of my readers who have been following me since I started my first fanfiction, Hearts of Wax. I got such amazing reviews for my last chapter. I love you guys! You know the drill, but I'm going to put it up for safety reasons. I do not own House of Wax, Vincent Sinclair (wish I did!), or Bo Sinclair. I only own my characters: Angela Sinclair, Dakota Sinclair, Robin Sinclair, Alice Sinclair, and Delilah Sinclair. Please enjoy and review!
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Angela stood in the kitchen, making lunch as she hummed softly. Strips of gray now meddled in her mahogany colored hair. She heard claws click on the tile and she dropped a piece of chicken on the floor. Luke ate it happily, wagging his tail and vocalizing his pleasure. She smiled at the young husky, scratching behind his ears. He wagged his tail some more before running out the door as soon as Vincent walked in from tending to some yard work.
"MOM!" Alice cried out down the stairs. "TELL ROBIN TO STOP LEAVING DEAD WAXED MICE IN MY MAKEUP BOX!" Robin's laughter followed. Angela shook her head with a sigh, before giggling slightly to herself.
"Robin, stop torturing your sister!" Vincent called up the stairs, half a grin on his own face.
"But it's my duty as a big brother to ensure that my sister is thoroughly tortured," Robin claimed, the now 18 year old sliding down the banister with a big grin, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He was the spitting image of a young Vincent, with his thick black hair still long and true blue Sinclair eyes, and his tall and lean but muscular frame. He chuckled when Angela cuffed him upside the head. After pulling his mother in for a hug and kissing her forehead, he headed out the door. He ran across to his uncle's, walking in the door. Dakota, Bo, and Delilah had moved into the house where the wax woman once continuously pulled back her curtains. It had only made sense once Alice outgrew her crib, and now she had the bedroom that was once Bo and Dakota's.
"What are you doing?" Delilah asked from the couch, stretching. She had inherited her mother's perfect figure with curves in all the right places, her red wine colored hair reaching her tailbone, and eyes that mirrored her cousin's. She was hardly shy, wearing a red tube top that only covered her chest and a matching flowing knee-length skirt. Robin arched an eyebrow at her.
"Nothing, what are you doing?" he plopped on the couch next to her.
"Being bored..."
"You're hardly ever entertained..."
"There's hardly ever anything entertaining other than torturing and killing hitchhikers..." A sly smiled passed over Delilah's lips as she let her head rest back against the couch. She had inherited her father's passion for killing, but took it one step further with an insane blood lust. She loved to torture her victims, killing them slowly and listening to them scream. Robin took after his own father's passion for forming creations with wax and rarely ever killed with Delilah. He preferred to go out in his Uncle Lester's truck to collect dead animals. When Lester died, it had been his wish for Robin to carry on for him. Alice was alright with killing, but she preferred making the kills quick. She was a good back up to have in case one of Delilah's victims ever managed to get loose, which rarely happened.
"Hello, Robin," Dakota said as she walked through the living room.
"Hi, Aunt Dakota," Robin said sweetly, smiling. Delilah rolled her eyes and smacked his arm before getting up and walking outside. Robin frowned slightly before getting up and following his cousin outside. He draped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her with him. She smiled softly, letting him take a hold of her hand and lead her to the truck. He opened the passenger door for her, and she got in. He closed the door behind her and got in the driver's side before driving to the next town over.
Alice wandered downstairs. The 14 year old looked more like her mother, except for the black hair she inherited from her father. She looked out the window to see Robin and Delilah leaving. She sighed softly. She walked outside the house and over to her grandmother's wax museum, going down below to her father's workshop. Sitting over on the table was a small wax bust that resembled Delilah perfectly, right down to her cold emotionless eyes. It must have been a newer piece her brother had made. A sick sensation twisted her stomach and she knocked it over, letting it break to pieces on the floor.
"Oops," she said sarcastically, to no one in particular. She was alone after all. She picked up the pieces and melted them until it became soft and easy to mold. She worked her hands, molding the wax with her fingers until it resembled a bird. A red-breasted robin to be more specific. She took it upstairs, nonchalantly placing it beside the black-capped chickadee her brother had made 13 years before. She sighed softly and walked upstairs to the wax bedroom.
She looked at the wax representation of her newborn father and uncle within their wax crib. She had only ever been warned by her mother that no one could understand her father's deformity. But for Alice, she hadn't known him by any other face. She knew the amazing heart that lie beneath, just as her mother did. And she had never been able to imagine why no one else would be able to see it either. She sighed once more, walking back down the wax staircase and out to the main street.
Alice aimlessly wandered around Ambrose. She let herself into the wax pet store and looked around before walking to the theater and sitting down to watch "Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?" again. She snuggled up on the shoulder of the wax man beside her. She was bored again before long and she wondered back out onto the street just in time to see Robin and Delilah return.
"Little cousin," Delilah regarded her as they climbed out of the truck.
"Hey there, Delilah, what's it like in New York City?" Alice sang to her. She giggled when her cousin glared at her. Delilah had always hated that song and found it to be incredibly irritating when anyone sang it to her. Robin chuckled along with his sister. Even he used it every once in a while for a good round of humor. Delilah huffed softly and walked back to her house.
Robin took Alice's hand and pulled her over, pulling open the truck and handing her some grocery bags. She groaned softly but helped him carry them inside and put everything away. Afterward, she tugged on his sleeve, just like she did when they were younger. Robin had always hated when she tagged around after him and Delilah. Being four years younger, she had always been the annoyance. But now her brother smiled at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"What?" he asked, squeezing her slightly and causing her to giggle.
"Watch a movie with me?" she begged him sweetly, tugging on his t-shirt. He chuckled lightly and nodded, following her to the living room. He sat down on the couch and let her pick out the movie. Of course she picked out her favorite; Phantom of the Opera. If she hadn't known any better, she would have been able to swear she could cast her father as Erik and her mother as Christine. In fact, she remembered one Halloween when her mother and father had dressed as Christine and Erik just to amuse her. She sat on the couch, snuggled against her brother happily as they watched.
"You love this movie, don't you?" Robin teased her.
"It's romantic and makes me think of Mom and Dad," Alice admitted, grinning. "Don't you like it to? I would expect you to for the same reason."
"Eh, I can take it or leave it." He shrugged slightly. "Kind of pisses me off that Raoul gets Christine in the end."
"I just pretend that that's not the case." She giggled softly. "I pretend Erik came back to kill Raoul and claim Christine for himself like he should have done in the movie."
"That would be just like you, killing someone to claim your love for yourself." Robin grinned, making Alice giggle again. She remained curled up against his side as he kept his arm around her protectively, eyes captivated by the screen and a small smile on her face.