The day after the non-vengeful ghosts scared the newest family out of the Murder House, Tate had what alcoholics often refer to as a moment of clarity. Ben had told him that it wasn't enough to be sorry for something, but that he had to take responsibility for his actions. He couldn't just keep apologizing to Violet; he had to show her he was sorry. He had to make things right, give her reason to forgive him. And so he set out to do so.
Vivien was sitting on the couch with baby Jeffrey, cooing in her arms, when Tate approached her. Up to this point, she had tolerated him merely because she was a kind and loving person, in life and in death. Plus she had found several of Violet's passive-aggressive love poems written about him, his name written in beautiful typography, angst teenaged song lyrics that were very obviously played on repeat dedicated to his memory. Vivien knew her daughter well enough to know that 1.) she was mad as all hell at Tate for what he did to her family, and 2.) she loved him anyway. Because of this last fact, she had already forgiven Tate, even though her daughter wouldn't.
"He's beautiful, you know," he said nervously. "He really is. His eyes shine like yours, and he already has Ben's chin."
Vivien looked up at him and smiled slightly. "I always wanted a son. When I had my miscarriage about a year before we moved here, I was convinced I was going to have a boy. I didn't know what I would have named him. It's best to wait until the baby comes into the world, and they have a way of naming themselves. Sit," she nodded to the seat next to her, so Tate sat. "We originally wanted to name Violet 'Nadia,' but she didn't look like a Nadia when she came out and we cut the cord. No, she was a Violet, without a doubt. I saw Jeffrey and knew he was a Jeffrey, without a doubt. How did your mother name you?"
Tate was smiling boyishly at the baby as he tried to remember. "All her kids before me had something wrong with them, in one way or another. Beau had…breathing problems. Addie, well, was Addie. Nathan…we don't talk about him much. Did she tell you that her womb was cursed?" He glanced up at her as she smirked, remembering that it was one of the first things Constance had said to her when the Harmons moved into the Murder House, what seems like decades ago. "Well, she never said 'cursed' before. She named me Tate because it sounds a lot like 'taint.' Her womb was tainted by something." His eyes lowered to the ground and his expression grew serious. "Before I came out, at least. She always said I was her perfect son, beautiful enough to be a model, smart enough to be a genius, whatever. She named me Tate ironically, because I was the only one that wasn't tainted by the house. All the other kids were. Well, I wasn't physically, at least. The older I got, the more she realized something wasn't right with me," he trailed off and tapped his right temple with his index finger, indicating his mind. "She tried so hard to make me her one perfect child, but I think this house had gotten to me way before I was even born."
Jeffrey hiccuped and Vivien shifted him in her arms. "Would you like to hold him?" She asked Tate.
He stuttered. "Um…you trust me to hold him?"
She laughed caustically. "I don't trust you, Tate, but I trust you a lot more than some of the other spirits in this house. You're the least of many evils, but at least you're trying to change." She set Jeffrey in Tate's arms, being sure that his head was supported by Tate's arm at the right angle. "My husband liked to tell me little details about some of his patients over coffee, though he never gave any names. When you became involved with our daughter, he started telling me a lot about you. He's said from the beginning that you were a psychopath, but I don't think psychopaths have the ability to love. You've loved Violet from the beginning, haven't you?" A tear rolled down Tate's cheek as he lowered his head once again. This meeting wasn't going anything like he'd expected.
"She told me about the way she died. How you tried so hard to save her, and when you couldn't, tried to protect her from the truth. I think that's a very noble thing that you did, Tate." She leaned back in the comfortable couch and closed her eyes as she breathed out slowly. Metaphorically, at least, seeing as it had been a while since her lungs actually functioned. "Love is a scary thing. It's scary as hell. Even scarier than Thaddeus down in the basement." They both chuckled at that. She looked at him, this beautiful boy that had done so many bad things in his life, yet she allowed him to hold her infant son. Although, to be fair, her infant son was already dead, as were she and he, yet the sentiment held true. Truth be told, she'd never hated Tate. She'd never hated anyone in her life, or her death. There was something about him that seemed completely ineffable, and so she gave him the benefit of the doubt, always.
Tate did his best to hold back tears and quiet sobs. Jeffrey had fallen asleep, and Tate was calmed by his presence. "I love her so much, Mrs. Harmon. I'd never been in love before her and I don't think I'd even liked a girl before her. She's beautiful, and complex, and deep, and intellectual, and perfect. I know I messed up, so bad, but I really am sorry and I really do want to try to fix things."
Vivien couldn't help but reach out and touch the cheek of the crying child before her. That's all he was in that moment; a scared, sorry little boy. She pulled him into and let him cry, Jeffrey nestled soundly between them. A sad smile crept across her face as she remembered all the times she'd done this for Violet, when she was crying over stress from school, or (most common) from a heart broken by some silly boy at school. After a long moment or two, Tate pulled away and looked her in the eye.
"I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Mrs. Harmon. I didn't know you or Violet, back then, and I was just trying to get Nora her baby back, because she was nice to me when I was little and she saved me from Thaddeus. That's why I did a lot of the bad stuff I've done since I died here. That's why I killed Chad and Patrick, because they weren't going to get a baby after all, and that's why I raped you." He was openly weeping now, so Vivien took Jeffrey from him, placed him in the bassinet beside her, and held Tate in her arms once more. "I'm so sorry for everything, Mrs. Harmon. I shouldn't have done any of it, but I swear that Violet changed me after everything. She made me a lot better, she made me hate myself less, because I thought, if this beautiful creature can love me, even though I've messed up so much, maybe I should be able to love myself, too. I swear I never did anything bad after I told her I loved her, I swear it. I want to make things right, so that at least she won't hate me. I love her so much, Mrs. Harmon." He completely broke down then, and Vivien just held him as his tears flowed.
"I forgive you, Tate. But you need to tell all of that to Violet, if you want her to forgive you, too. And to Chad and Patrick. Maybe they wouldn't be so bitter if you at least tried to explain and apologize." She rubbed his back, consoling him. "It was very brave of you to talk to me today. Good job. I'm proud of you, for growing up and trying to make everything better." She pushed him up and wiped his tears with her thumb. "Talking to me was a good first step." She smiled, gently, and his tears finally stopped. There was so much of Violet's same personality inside of him, and that's one of the things that made it so hard for Vivien to hate him. Plus there was that boyish charm. His curly hair and crooked smile made him very attractive, and made him appear very vulnerable and human. There was something in his voice that couldn't be faked, that let her know that he really was sorry. His tone made it incredibly clear that he just wanted Violet back, but there was more to it than that. He was genuinely apologetic for everything he'd done. Deep down, he was nothing more than a scared and irrational child, eagerly seeking the simplest solution to things, even if that meant creating more problems. Clearly he was doing everything he could to grow out of that state of mind, but there was plenty more growing to do.
"I don't think Violet will talk to me ever again. She yelled at me to go away, and then she said goodbye. She probably doesn't love me at all anymore." His eyes threatened to shed more tears, but he tried so hard to hold them back. It took all the strength he had to stifle the crying.
"Oh, that's not true." Vivien leaned in so she could whisper into his ear. "I know she does, she just doesn't really want to, because of everything. But she does still love you." Sitting back up, she smiled. Violet had helped him grow, yes, but he had also encouraged her to come out of her shell, even just a little bit. And he had done everything in his power to save her when she accidentally overdosed on sleeping pills. In a sense, she almost owed him her daughter's life. Almost.
He sniffed, hard. "She does? Violet still loves me?"
"Of course I do, you idiot." Both Tate and Vivien turned to see Violet standing in the arched entryway to the living room, crying. "I just can't forgive you. Not yet, maybe not ever." With that, she vanished.
Turning back to him, Vivien smiled sympathetically. "The best you can do is continue trying to make things right, and just let her come back to you. Don't force her, at all. When you love someone, let them go. And if they come back to you," she paused, staring into the distance for a brief moment, as if recalling a moment buried deep within the confines of her memory. "They're yours."