/AN: Hello everyone! This is my first American Horror Story fanfic. I wasn't going to post it until after the last episode but I couldn't wait so here it is. Please note: I have two other fanfictions that I'm working on that are for different fandoms so I might not update every week like I normally do. But I will try to make it as often as possible.
Summary: When Violet first meets Tate, she hates his guts. However, when she begins having vivid visions of murders past, she realizes she needs him to unlock the secrets of Murder House. Relationships grow close and eventually both must hide a secret neither of them can ultimately keep, as Murder House ruins the lives of all who enter. Alternate Universe/
Tate's POV
Constance spied out of our kitchen window, watching out new neighbors move into the old house we used to live in. "Tate, why don't you be a gentleman and run and help our new neighbors move their belongings into the house next door?" Bitch. She was going to have me cleaning all night. I dropped the plate in the sink, splashing soapy water all over my mother, smirking at the scowl on her face as I walked out the door. "And you'll finish the dishes when you get back! Don't think just because you're doing a good deed you get to skip out on your chores!"
I threw up a sarcastic salute into the air and thrust my hands into my pockets, as I walked across the lawn. I'd probably get in trouble for that too later; a scolding and a few hours in the 'bad boy' closet. What the old cocksucker doesn't know is that I don't react to the closet of mirrors like Addie does. I simply take a long and much needed nap.
I finally made my way over to the dark, looming brick house, to the right of ours. I watched as a girl about my age took a box in, not even bothering to make a glance at me even though I was less than a foot away from her. She was maybe about a foot shorter than me, and her long soft looking hair maybe a shade darker and a shade or two redder. An old tattered hat hid her eyes. I turned away from her as the house engulfed her in darkness – and walked straight into someone.
"Oops, sorry." I muttered. The person I had run into was a guy, probably her father. Damn. I was hoping he wouldn't be in the picture. Oh well. I could always work around that, no big deal. His hair was short and dark; almost black. His eyes were green… maybe hazel. It was hard to tell with this light. He loomed a good half-foot taller than I was. He looked like he was in his early to mid forties.
"Um. Hi. Ben Harmon. Can I help you?"
"I just came over to help out. My mom," I slightly cringed at the word, "Constance, is baking something to bring over later… I'm Tate." Let's hope Addie doesn't spit in the cooking this time.
"Well, Tate, I think we're pretty much covered with the help –"
I panicked. I didn't want to go back yet. "I insist. It'll get done quicker, the more people you have helping." I gave my best, "I'm a good boy" smile. Ha. Yeah, right.
Ben looked conflicted, but finally sighed in defeat. I knew I'd won. "Alright. Grab a box and set it in the living room." I gave my "good boy" smile again and nodded. When I entered the House, I passed the girl again. Annoyance flashed in her eyes. I figured she'd warm up to me eventually. Finally around sunset, the moving trucks were unloaded, and we all gathered in the kitchen.
"Would you like something to drink, Tate?" Mrs. Harmon asked. She was an inch shorter than me. Her hair was a strawberry blonde and her eyes blue.
"Thanks, Mrs. Harmon. Water will be fine." How I loathed my good boy act.
The girl bumped into my shoulder, reaching for a bottle of water, sitting on the counter. She retreated into the living room. Ben sighed. "We're sorry about Violet. She isn't in the best of moods."
"It's cool. I was the same way after we moved to Las Angeles. I totally get it." I bided my time before I went to look for her. Violet. The name suited her.
"Do you have any siblings?" Mrs. Harmon asked me.
"Three. My younger brother Beau is twelve. He was born with Down syndrome and cerebral palsy. He was pretty much normal until a few years ago. We got into an accident and he had severe brain damage and some bad scarring to the face. Now he only has the brain of a small dog." Ah, the accident story. It turns out, Beau is smart. He just can't express it in the same form most people can. But the Harmon family didn't have to know that.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mrs. Harmon sounded genuinely apologetic.
"Don't be. He doesn't really remember and he's happy the way he is. Anyway, there's also my older sister Addie, she's twenty-four. She also has Down syndrome. And then finally my twin sister, Emma. I'm afraid you won't be seeing her anytime soon."
"Did something happen to her?"
"No, not really. Mom just has her locked away in a loony bin. We don't know when she's getting out." Mrs. Harmon began to say something but I grew tired of this game. "So can I look around? I used to live here when I was four and I remember how much… fun Emmeline and I had when we were here. I want to see how much has changed." I flashed my "Good Tate" out again.
"Um yes. I'm sure Violet won't mind." Ben called for Violet. "So do you go to the local high school, Tate?"
"Westfield? Yeah. It isn't too bad."
Ben nodded. "Could you do us a favor and maybe try and help Vi out tomorrow, it being her first day and all? It always helps to know someone. Maybe you could introduce her to some of your friends?"
"I can help her find her classes and stuff but as for friends, I'm pretty much a loner."
"You rang?" Violet appeared beside him.
"You want to show Tate around for us?"
"Not really." Ben gave Violet a stern look. "Fine." Violet turned to me. Like a stupid kid, I hoped for maybe a word, a slight nod to the knowledge of my existence. Instead, she just gave me a dirty look and gestured to follow her.
So I did. Through the living room, up the stairs and into the hallway. Complete silence. I grew tired of her ignoring me, pretending I didn't exist. My patience wore thin. So, I did the only thing I knew how to do. I stepped in front of her. "You know you can't ignore me forever." I said, giving her a genuine smile.
She rolled her eyes. "Hi. I'm Violet. I' clinically depressed." She probably thought that would scare me off. With my family? Not a chance.
"Okay. That's a start. My turn. Hi. I'm Tate. I'm criminally insane. Nice to meet you." She looked slightly taken aback.
"Great now get out of my house." Quick recovery. I think I'm gonna like this girl.
"Aw, but I thought we were starting to bond!" she flipped me the bird; I wasn't fazed by her actions. "And besides, you promised to give me the grand tour."
Violet stepped around me and walked further down the hall and into a room. I followed suit. "This is my room. Happy? No? Too bad." Violet scrolled through her IPOD, as she sat on her bed.
"Actually, this does make me happy. This used to be my room when I lived here. I know how to get in and out from this room without ever being seen." I smirked.
"If that's supposed to scare me, you failed."
"It wasn't meant to scare you. It was just a simple fact."
"Get out before I scream."
"I'll leave. But in a few days, you'll call me back to answer all of your questions. Goodnight, Violet. It really was nice to meet you." I gave her another one of my genuine smiles and left as she asked. No point in causing trouble just yet.
On my way out, I passed a familiar old red head in the living room. "Good evening, Moira." I smiled.
"Good evening, Master Tate." She barely glanced at me as she walked into the study.
"Hag." I said under my breath. I could've sworn I heard her call me a brat, but oh well. I was convinced I had met the girl of my dreams. I didn't care what anyone did to try to bring me down. Not even Constance could do anything to bring me out of my high.
"Good my Mr. and Mrs. Harmon!" I didn't get an answer but I didn't expect to either. I left the house and returned to my own.
As I predicted, I spent the rest of the night doing dishes and cleaning the house. Fuck. My. Life.
/AN: So this was the first chapter. Hopefully I'll have the next one up soon. If you haven't caught on yet: Tate isn't dead. Which means the Westfield High shooting never happened. And Tate was born in the same year as Violet. So Tate's 17. Not 30 something. Just wanted to make that clear. I promise the chapters will be longer and better. In the mean time: review please and I'll have chapter two up ASAP.