Disclaimer: I do not own Revenge or its characters. Sadly. There would still be a lot more happy Vivid flashbacks if I did.
Author's Note: This is not a continuation of of my other story, "Silence", although it does follow a similar path and design. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings in regards to the season finale and what we now know so I may continue to do random character and relationship based one shots for a bit. I don't know if I will keep this one a one shot or look to make it a chaptered story yet, but for now it's a one shot.
All mistakes are mine, please message me if you find any I missed.
Reviews would be lovely.
This was the life.
Free from worry, from a Grayson breathing down her neck, from revenge. When she was a young girl training with Takeda, he had once told her how once the path of revenge was finished, and all of her enemies lay dead in the sand, that only then she would truly be at peace. And while Satoshi had never lived to see his peace, Emily thought she could finally say that she was living it for the both of them, the three of them. Although she never said his name, he was a constant thought on her mind and deep down she knew that he would have been proud of her. Despite what it had cost.
Friends, family, her life. Along the way she'd alienated just about everyone she had left, upon learning what she had done Jack honestly couldn't say he knew who she was anymore, could take the monster he knew she'd become. He'd called her no better than Victoria, an insult that cut so deep her base instinct had been to react just as Victoria would. She slapped him, pushed him away and told him never to come back. And he didn't. Charlotte on the other hand never outright said that she suspected her in her mother's disappearance, but Emily knew she blamed her. Jack had kept his promise and not told Charlotte about her dead sister, who turns out was never her sister to begin with.
And Emily was nearly ready, to bring Charlotte home where she belonged, to take her under her wing and show her the terrible truth about her family, to protect her and teach her about the world in a way that she wished she had been taught. For now, she was funding a world travel trip for her sister, she could go wherever she wanted to. But not today, today was a day for reflection. Two years today Amanda Clarke had died in a boat accident just off the coast, her body washing ashore in the wee hours of the morning. She'd made many promises that day, and was finally able to live up to them. But it didn't make her miss Amanda any less.
But still, as she thought of Amanda and the little boy she left behind, she also thought of Jack, of Nolan, of Aiden.. She even briefly thought of Daniel and hoped that wherever he was, he was miserable and destitute. Emily almost laughed to herself when she thought of how foolish she'd once been, of how innocent he seemed to her in the beginning, he was no better than his father and she'd been so blind to it.. Never again.
The sound of a car's enging cutting broke her from her reprieve, and she found herself getting up from her vanity table and walking to out the turrent, her turrent, to see what was going on. Somewhre in the back of her mind Emily thought of the path she was taking, retracing the steps of a woman who once lived here and as she looked over the edge briefly remembered a little girl playing in a pool that seemed as big as an ocean, on a beach that burned her toes when the sun reached the highest point in the sky. But she also remembered how envious she had been, that she herself didn't have all of these things.. And now she did. She truly had taken everything from the woman that ruined her life, and she was happy.
Despite the fact that she was alone in Grayson manor, too proud to invite Nolan to stay with her, too hurt to think of apologizing and persuing Jack like her heart told her she should, and too determined to settle for anything else. Taking a sip of her tea Emily watched in silence as two lone figures got out of the car, a man carrying a large dufflebag and a woman, and as they walked side by side up the porch of her old beach house she noticed the ease at which the man moved. Like he'd walked that porch a thousand times, the woman however, who was wrapped in a blanket, seemed hesitant to be there, falling behind the man and waiting at the bottom of the stairs like a child.
Emily had been so wrapped up in her quiet contemplation that she realized she hadn't thought of the beach house in months, having rented it out once legally obtaining the rights to the manor. She could barely look at it without thinking of Aiden, and how he was just left there for her like a pair of dirty socks. But there was something about these renters that was nagging at her, a familiarity that she couldn't shake and as she set her tea down on the edge of the turrent she silently begged the figures to turn around, so that she could see them for herself and push her concern aside.
The woman stayed put as she man pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the house, going inside with the bag and leaving the woman huddled in her blanket outside, Emily knew that when she rented it out she left everything in tact, it would be fully furnished for the new owners save a small infinity box which she kept locked in the bottom of her dresser. She didn't need to hide it anymore, but something deep down told her that she had to keep it safe, for a time when Charlotte may need to see it someday. Why didn't the woman go inside, and why didn't she turn around to look at her? It was the first thing Emily had done, it was the first thing she always did when she knew she was being watched.
But she wouldn't budge, both of them had kept their backs to her thus far. Almost as if they knew, is this how Victoria felt everytime Emily came home, when she wouldn't give the Queen the satistaction of looking up at her. Victoria got so much from towering over others, both literally and metaphorically. Did she get off at being a voyuer, god knows what Victoria had seen from her royal perch. If Emily wasn't a careful person she might have blown her cover from her own front porch.. Time slowly ticked by and biting the end of her thumb Emily cocked her head to the side while she waited, unease was beginning to fill up in her gut.
And finally the man returned, coming out of the house with a small black trenchcoat clearly meant for his companion. He reached behind her to remove the blanket and Emily could see a dingy grey pair of pants and a barely there shirt you couldn't call a top, clothing that wasn't meant for a day in the Hamptons but instead that of someone returning from the hospital. Dread poured through her body and her eyes widened. "Turn around." Emily gritted through her teeth, willing the pair to look up at her, to confirm the pressure she felt building up in her head. The man reached to tie the jacket together, a smile on his face but a small movement of the woman's hand stopped him, before it gently brushed against his cheek and began to tie the jacket up herself, slowly turning to face the manor as quick fingers remembered what to do.
Emily's hands were gripping at the edge of the turrent, her breathing labored and tears beginning to well behind her eyelids, the figure in question finally looked up at her and as brown steely eyes met her own blue ones Emily's hand jerked beside her, sending her teacup falling over the ledge and shattering on the ground below. "No." She whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. This wasn't happening, the other woman couldn't be there, Michelle wasn't supposed to let her leave. No one could possibly know she was there, Emily had thought of everything.
But as a small smile that one might swear could make friends with the Devil began to shine on the former Mrs. Grayson's face, Emily remembered she hadn't come alone, the forgotten man who was so tenderly caring for the woman who ruined everything came to stand beside her, tall and unbroken... and angry. And as Emily stared down into his cold blue eyes she could only think of one thing: "Daddy."