I do not own American Horror Story: Murder House.
And I simply cannot watch Evan Peters cry anymore. So this is a little different.
The Longest Game of Life Ever
"Really?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
He peered at her closely as if trying to read her brain.
"And you think this is a good idea?"
His tone was dubious. She shrugged calmly.
"I don't know. It's worth a try."
He took a deep breath.
"Okay then."
He twirled the spinner and moved his car along the board. It was green.
Collected money. Spun again. Moved again.
"Your turn."
She twirled the spinner and moved her car along the board. It was red.
Collected money. Spun again. Moved again.
"Hey, now you can go to college, Vi. You were always smart enough."
She smiled a little and then motioned to his car with her chin.
"Well, what're you going to do?"
He snorted in light derision.
"Me? Career, baby. Instant money."
He took a card and read it. Made a face, then tossed it over his shoulder dismissively. And reached for another card.
"Hey, you can't do that! You gotta stick with the card you got first."
He glared at her peevishly.
"But I don't want to be a hair stylist, Vi!"
She stifled a grin and held a straight face.
"Sorry, that's the rules."
He seemed to study the board and the placement of all the items as if strategizing the possible successfulness of diving for the cards. She calmly picked up the rest of the career cards and sat on them.
"Well, now I just want to go for them more."
He grinned his dimple at her and she returned it.
They played for a few minutes, spinning the wheel, moving their vehicles along . . .
"My little blue guy sticking out of the car looks like a penis head, Vi . . ."
. . . collecting money, paying money . . .
"Snowboarding accident, really? I have never snowboarded in my life, Vi. Or my death . . ."
While in the meantime, Violet got honor roll along with an influx of cash and landed on the 'get married' space.
"Hey, is that us getting married?"
"No," she said. "You're in your car. I'm in mine."
He furrowed his brow at her.
"So you're marrying someone else?"
She tilted her head at him.
"In the game."
He glared at the board.
"Well, then don't get married."
She huffed at him.
"But I have to. It's the rules of the game."
He pouted.
"So I can't even be married to you in a game? This sucks."
He folded his arms over his chest like a big petulant baby.
"Tate, it's just a game. Would you please spin the stupid wheel?"
He grumbled and spun the clicking contraption.
They played for a while longer in relative peace.
They earned money, lost money, relocated jobs, and won meaningless awards.
Finally it was time for them to buy houses.
"I think I'll take . . . the mobile home."
Tate raised his eyebrows in disbelief at her.
"Really? You're going to take the crappy little mobile home over a Tudor mansion?"
She threw his look right back him.
'I sorta died in a house like that, Tate. This one, in fact. I'm not doing that twice."
His expression immediately switched over to childish hurt.
She ignored it and bought the mobile home. He bought the log cabin.
The game continued.
Finally he spoke again.
"If you could do it over, would you choose not to live here? Would you choose never to meet me?'
She was quiet.
"I don't know. What might have happened out there?"
He didn't respond.
Then the inevitable happened.
Violet had twin girls.
In the game.
And Tate started going to pieces.
"Twins, really? You have twins with some blue penis head guy and I have to live with some pink penis head chick and be a hair stylist?"
Violet sighed.
"Tate, it's just a game."
He stared seethingly at the board. She could practically feel his emotions rising.
"Of Life, Vi. You know, like we don't have."
She sighed and put her chin on her knuckles, staring at him.
"I thought you were okay with that, Tate."
He shrugged.
"Sometimes."
Then Tate had a baby.
In the game.
"Hey, a girl. Cool."
Nora Montgomery wafted slowly past their door, her pale, pretty face glum.
"It's not all it's cracked up to be," she proclaimed darkly.
Tate shut the door without bothering to answer.
She might've proclaimed the same statement over morning toast.
They went back to the game.
All was peaceful.
Until Tate landed on the one thing that was as sure as death.
Taxes.
"Well, I'm not gonna do that," he muttered defiantly, reaching to spin again.
Vi stopped his hand, annoyed.
"Tate, it's the rules."
He trembled a little, then lost the battle with his frail willpower.
"I don't want to play by the rules, Vi! I don't care about this game! It's stupid! I hate it!"
And he slammed his fists down on the board, making everything scatter.
Then he jumped up and was gone in midair.
"Tate? Tate?! Tate!"
No answer. Violet was alone.
"I hate when he does that," she reflected impassively to herself.
She looked down and saw the board game reset as it was before Tate had thrown his hissy fit.
She continued playing for both of them.
Tate had twin girls. Violet went to the Grand Canyon.
They both got paydays and hospital bills and lottery wins and losses on jeopardy games.
She tried to make decisions that she thought he would like and would benefit him most.
"You kept playing?" he asked, bewildered.
She shrugged without looking up.
"Yeah, I don't give up on Life just 'cause you're not here."
He looked slightly amused.
"Is that a metaphor?"
She smiled a little.
"No. It's a game."
He sat back down crosslegged before the board once more.
"I'm sorry, Violet. I was taking it too seriously."
She didn't coddle him but she didn't attack him either.
"Did you hurt anybody?"
He shrugged.
"Stabbed Patrick. Then he got up and threatened to popsicle me with a fireplace poker but then I just vanished so . . .'
She didn't bother to ask. Sometimes unlife without too many details was better.
Besides, none of them could really hurt each other. Not really. Not permanently.
"I'll bring him some hot chocolate or something later to apologize," he said, as if trying to mollify her.
She flicked her eyes at him mischievously.
"That's a little gay, isn't it?"
He looked at her, a hint of a gleam in his dark eyes.
"Then it's a good move, right?"
She shook her head, a brief smile flitting across her face.
"Do you want to continue playing?"
He shook his head slowly.
"Not really. You?"
She shrugged.
"I don't care."
He looked around.
"Well, what do you want to do?"
She shrugged again.
"Want to go stab Patrick?" he offered.
She laughed despite herself.
"No! That's not fun."
He grinned a little.
'Well, depends on how you do it, Vi."
The board game had vanished and now she was at the window.
"I wish I could leave this house sometimes. You wouldn't think something so big and cavernous would feel so small and suffocating."
He appeared behind her, gently wrapping her in his arms.
"Yeah, I know."
She let him hold her because it made him relax. It made him calm. It made him happy.
And, most of the time, it made her feel better too.
"Besides, we don't have to wait much longer, Vi. Tomorrow is Halloween."
She smiled. It was.
Tate Langdon continued talking quietly, gently in her ear.
"Yeah, we can get Taco Bell and go to the beach . . ."
Violet smiled. Tate dreamed about her, he always said. And tacos.
" . . . watch the waves and all the big, vast expanse of possibility . . ."
His voice trailed off as he softly kissed her neck, making her shiver.
". . . and build a bonfire and make love on the beach all night long . . ."
Violet Harmon looked out the window at the darkness beyond.
And waited for tomorrow night when she could finally leave the house.
At least for a little while.
Really no reason to write this.
Except it was so sweet and heartbreaking when they sat down to play cards together.
Plus boardgames can be soooo tedious sometimes.
And I just finished AHS: MH yesterday.
Thanks to Mordaking and iWritexx for graciously reviewing!
Thanks to The Cry-Wank Kid , DramaticFanaticPrincess, Adventuretime11, Violatefan609, and Mayceex3 for adding your support to this lil' oddball.
Everyone appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.