"Sanctity"

Summary - It's the hardest thing to do, to let someone go when you love them so deeply. But what happens when Violet discovers she was pregnant just prior to her passing and is forced to confront Tate once more? Why do all the occupants of the house seem so desperate to have children? Was there another motive to all of Tate's horrifying crimes? Can he still be redeemed or will he destroy the one person who is his only chance at salvation?

Disclaimer – I do not own American Horror Story. It is owned and copyrighted by all its respective creators. I am a poor college student with only dryer lint and a half eaten cookie D;

Author's Note - Just as a small warning, the first couple chapters won't deal with the pregnancy. But I'll get there trust me, everything's got a point! ^_^ Thank you for reading and bearing with me haha!

Chapter One - "Premonition"

1994, Night Before the Westfield High Massacre

They walk in silence, mother and child.

Lights flash from passing cars, their horns blaring harshly against the warm night air, the traffic backing up for miles from the long rush hour commute. Late night partygoers fly past them, their laughter and free spirited nature mocking the obvious anger and resentment between the pair. Palm trees danced and swayed above in the wind, as if to point and shake with laughter. Or perhaps it was all within the boy's mind. After all, he was only a joke to his mother, whom he had begrudgingly agreed to accompany on this ridiculous holy crusade. Her quest to reclaim her so called "perfect prodigal son", even though nothing he did was ever good enough for her. If for no other reason than to shut her up and let her pretend a little longer so he could keep her the hell off his back.

The older woman sighs, her heels making short, annoying clicks on the pavement below, the 1950ish scarf on her head billowing in the breeze,the ashen blonde locks below it becoming disheveled. She refused to look at him, her eyes pointed straight ahead, her chin held high in defiance, refusing to be intimidated by her own child. Her voice was angry, and at the same time desperate. "You know, the least you could do is pretend you care how I feel."

He glances in her direction, his dark eyes staring at her with laced venom, his words no safer. "Sorry mother,but that requires far too much effort."

She rolls her eyes as they finally reach their destination, a small darkened store front on the corner, the windows covered by dark purple velvet drapes, which peeled away from the glass in a sudden breeze as the door opened. Small cheerful bells jingled against the door handle as various cream and white colored candles lined the store, their tiny flames flickering, almost as if in fear of his approach. Or at least the boy liked to think so. He liked it when things were afraid of him- it gave him control. He felt... godlike. Like he had some control over this miserable forsaken life of his and this woman that was his poor excuse for a mother. Every time he did something to openly defy her, he knew it lashed another scar into her heart and the thought thrilled him to no end.

The scent of various incense wafted around them, the light, airy, new age music playing softly in the background. They weaved through the various shelves and cases, herbs and powders and leather books lining them in an organized chaos. As they finally reached the back, a smaller girl, roughly the boy's age smiled at them as she stood, her long bleach blonde hair floating over her silver sequined shirt, golden hoop earrings framing her face as they dangled. "Can I help you?"

The older woman smiled at the girl, her southern tinted accent drawling kindly as she put her hand on her son's shoulder, secretly gripping it in a way that told him he had damn well better behave. He stared hard at her, having zero intention of obeying, his dark eyes burning into her as she continued to address the girl.

"Yes my dear, my name is Constance Langdon. This is my son Tate. We're here to speak with Madame Billie Dean, as we discussed on the phone last night. For the...reading."

"Do you believe in the devil?"
"No..."
"I do. I've looked into his eyes..."

The girl looked over at Tate, becoming slightly uncomfortable in his presence. Her smile fell as she looked up at him, his lack of smile and soulless eyes driving into her. She quickly turned her gaze back to Constance, shifting nervously in place. "Ah yes, right away. The Madame is expecting you. Please follow me." Quickly turning her back on them both, the girl lead them down a darkened hallway, all too happy to be out from underneath Tate's consuming gaze. There was something about him that didn't sit very well with her and if she continued to look into those eyes any longer, she felt like her soul would be devoured alive.

As soon as they were half way down the hall, she led them through an open door. Inside the room were more candles on small wooden tables, a large rounded table draped in a bright blue shimmering material, with various other patterned silk materials draped from the ceiling and walls. In the middle of the table sat a large crystal ball, glowing with a bright purple aura, changing every few seconds to other various colors as a swirl of mist floated within. A deck of ornately decorated tarot cards stood off to the side of it.

Pulling out the chairs, the girl motioned for the pair to sit, Constance sitting first and undoing her scarf with a heavy sigh. To prove a point, Tate quickly grabbed the other chair, moving as far away from her as possible, crossing his arms and legs in further protest, smirking when she only rolled her eyes at him. Smiling uncomfortably, the girl quickly turned on her high heel, shutting the door quietly behind her as if scared they would see her and drag her into their war.

Tate continued to stare mockingly at his mother as she pulled a cigarette from the case in her purse, lighting it and taking a long drag to ease her stress. The smoke swirled around her head, covering her face in the dim light as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Tate continued to watch her, amused. "I already know what you're up to."

Constance never opened her eyes, even with the underlying threat in his words. "Oh you think so do you?"

"You're only doing this to scare me into line. That press on nail psychic is gonna come in here, look into that cheap plastic crystal ball that she probably got on the home shopping network and tell me if I stay on the same path I'm on, I'm gonna ruin my life, or whatever the hell you guys wrote into your script. Then she'll tell me I better get my shit together before I end up dead, or end up trapped in some loveless relationship where if my children don't turn out perfect I treat them like shit or kill them. Whichever comes first."

Sighing, Constance bowed her head, her words biting back, refusing to concede, refusing to look at him, to let him get to her this way. "Must you always be so goddamned difficult? Stop with the bullshit."

"After you. Ladies first."

Constance opened her eyes into a death glare, her mouth already forming into a nasty comeback, but was quickly interrupted by a woman who'd entered the room. She was dressed in a long flowing burgundy dress, her chest and shoulders covered by a light pink patterned silk from India, which wove up and around her head. A small golden charm bracelet adorned her wrist, jingling as she walked towards them. Her dark blonde hair flowed out from underneath it as she smiled at them kindly. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Billie's been helping me for years. I've been through all the phonies. But she...is 100% authentic."

Constance quickly rose, smoothing her skirt before she rose to take the woman's hand in her own. "I apologize, my son here can be...quite the little demon when he wants to be. I am at my wit's end. I was hoping you'd be able to give us some...wisdom so that we might be able to unlock his destiny."

"You know Tate, unlike your siblings you were graced with so many gifts. How is it that you can't bring yourself to use them? Just a smile...or a kind word could open the gates to Heaven..."
"No matter how much you want it...I will never be your perfect son."

Billie Dean took Constance's hand within her own, and embraced her friend. "I'm sure he's not as bad as you say. I guess all parents feel like their teenagers are demons sometimes." she spoke, looking down at Tate and reaching for his hand. He smiled up at her, the same mocking smile he'd given his mother. "Oh, no, that's actually the one thing she's right about." he spoke, feigning perkiness to further the charade.

But as soon as her warm hand met his, she snapped back, as if jolted by a sudden burst of electricity, her eyes widening in shock and fear. She stepped back from him slowly, as if he'd just shot her. Tate stared up at her, the mocking, dangerous smile still plastered on his face. Constance stared at the scene in confusion, not quite sure what to make of it. "Is everything alright?"

Billie turned to look at her, her eyes and mouth still wide, her breath finally releasing. She exhaled slowly, swallowing hard as she plastered on a fake smile. "No...it's...it's nothing. Just sometimes when...a medium meets someone with such a strong aura so directly...it can have a powerful effect. But it's nothing to worry about." she finished as she rounded the table, sitting in the old wooden chair in back of it. She brought the crystal ball closer to her as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and focusing as she began to whisper several latin phrases, sometimes humming and chanting.

Constance stared intently at her, while Tate threw his head back laughing. "Are you kidding me? Humming and chanting? Am I supposed to be scared right now or something? I could've gone to one of those carnival fortune tellers and got better results."

Groaning, Constance reached over and slapped him hard on the arm. "Be quiet! You're being disrespectful."

Opening her eyes, Billie reached across the table toward Tate. "Give me your palm."

Letting out another laugh, he rolled up his black hoodie sleeve, putting his hand in her own. "What, your crystal ball couldn't tell you anything? Shocking. Let me guess. I'm gonna die."

Billie ignored his taunts, lightly dragging her finger over the lines of his palm, her brows furrowing in concentration. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid...it's much more serious than that."

"I can't read your future. That's a different gift."

Tate snorted and pulled his hand away. "You hear that mother? It's more serious. Super serious!" he said, clapping. "Bravo, you two really went out of your way to try and scare me. I'm impressed. B+ for effort. So do tell me, what's so serious that I had to be dragged all the way out here?"

Staring intently at him, there was no smile or laughter in her voice. "Death and darkness surround you. You are at a fork in the road Tate. Your actions now will ultimately decide the fate of many."

"Are you listening to her?" Tate asked as he rose from his chair. "Did she get this off a goddamned fortune cookie?"

"Heed my words." she said as she rose with him, her words becoming firm and urgent. "If you do not act with care, your actions may ultimately cause the end of the world. You need to take this very seriously. You and those you love are in grave danger."

Walking over to Constance he smiled at her, standing in front of her with his hands clasped. "You hear that mother? I do have an important destiny after all. I'm gonna end the world. Aren't you proud of me? I'm gonna end the suffering of all the miserable people on this damn shitty rock. I'm a goddamned saint."

Constance could say nothing as she looked away from him, the ashes from her cigarette falling to the floor. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She hated when he got like this...there was something maniacal about him, as if a switch had been flipped and something in her son was turned off and he was no longer himself.

Laughing darkly, Tate gripped the table firmly, flipping it against the wall in a sudden burst of anger, the crystal ball flying to the ground, shattering to pieces as Billie fell to the floor, her arms covering her head for protection. Tate only continued to laugh, throwing one last glance at his horrified mother and laughing harder when he saw her shock and outrage. Turning for the door he opened it and stood outside it. "What a joke. Don't quit your damn day job."

Constance, more used to her son's outbursts than others, stood up from her chair and approached him. "Where the hell are you going?"

He only grinned at her. "Gonna go call up the White House. Figured they might hook me up with some nuclear missiles. I'm sure they'll have no problem, seeing as I'm the chosen one and all. Mind as well let the world go out with a bang." he finished as he turned to walk away.

But before he could leave, Billie rose from the floor and darted over to him, desperate as she clasped his wrist. "I know Tate. I know...what's inside of you. There is a shadow, a darkness within you. This is not the true you. Please...you must fight it and hear what I'm saying to you. I know you're in there."

"He was a model of physical perfection. He was my gift. But I lost him to other things."

It was Tate's turn to jolt in fear, as he turned back to her, eyes wide. The previously dangerous smile was no where to be found, and there was no longer any humor or mirth in his demeanor. A slight tremble entered his voice as he turned to face her. "Wha...what?"

She gripped him by the shoulders now, as firmly as she possibly could. "Listen to me. I know you don't want to truly hurt anyone. But there is something in you that can, and will. I know you're a good person. But you have to fight it. Banish it Tate...you have the banish the darkness with light. If you don't...the suffering you will bring to others will be unspeakable."

Completely shaken and visibly disturbed now, he shook free of her grasp. "No...no you're lying. I never told you that. Who told you about that!"

Billie shook her head sadly. "I could feel it the instant I touched you."

Tate clumsily backed away from her, knocking some bowls and papers off the shelf behind him which hit the floor and broke with a loud, shattering crash. "No...please...I don't wanna hurt anyone...don't let it take me...please...I don't want this..." he spoke, barely above a whisper, tears pouring down his face. "I can't fight it...it's winning...help me..."

Her face wore a sympathetic, sad smile now as she reached for his hand once more. "I can help you Tate...but only if you want to be helped."

With a scream, Tate ripped his hand away from hers, and stumbled out the door as the bells hanging from it fell to the ground with a clash.

She simply stood, looking on with fear and sadness as Tate tore away from the building, while Constance approached her from behind. "Is he...?" she asked.

Billie only shook her head. "I'm sorry...he is lost to you now."

…

The Next Morning, The Day of the Massacre, 4:00am

"Good people don't just have a bad day and start shooting people."

"Maybe he wasn't a good person."

Tate sat on the bed staring straight ahead, for hours. The night air was still, the crickets chirping outside in a monotone lullaby. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there. But then he wasn't sure if he even cared. He was drowning, and he knew it.

He saw the shadow out of the corner of his eye, in the corner of the room, it's darkness blocking out the blue paint behind it. He hated looking at it, it was like staring straight into hell itself. He was afraid if he looked at it directly, he'd lose himself completely.

"Negative energy feeds on trauma and pain. It draws those things to it. The force here in this house is larger than the many individual traumas. And it has a need. It wants to break through. It wants to move in our world. It's using those trapped between this world and the next as conduits."

"Go away."

It was silent as it hovered, saying nothing as Tate repeated his forceful request. "I said go away."

The shadow moved towards him now, slowly creeping up on him in a smoke like trail.

'You are helpless to stop it. The oncoming darkness.'

Shaking now, Tate clenches his fists at his side. "Shut up!"

'You know the truth. You cannot defy me. You belong to me now.'

Eyes fully tearing up now, Tate rises and punches his bed in frustration. "What the hell do you want with me? Leave me alone! I'm a good person! I don't want this!"

'Kill them Tate. Kill them so they won't suffer. Kill them so they won't have to endure what's to come.'

"No! Fuck you!" he screams, running out the door, desperate to get away from the shadow's grasp. All but throwing himself down the stairs, he passes Constance lying on the couch unconscious, a drink in hand, oblivious to her son's distress, his angry pleading screams.

Running as fast as he can, he runs without purpose. Without destination. Knowing that he only wants to escape. The air has chilled with the morning dew, his breath escaping in thin clouds, releasing all of his fear and anger, mindless to anything but escaping its destructive grasp. The sun begins to rise as he stops, no longer able to draw on any breath, knowing not even a track star's lungs can last forever.

Doubling over, he puts his hand on a wall, panting in fury and frustration. Tate glances over his shoulder in worry that the shadow has only followed him, but relief floods through him when he sees nothing but sunlight coming over the horizon. He relaxes finally, his body releasing all tension. As he breathes one last comforting sigh, he turns to look where he is, shock igniting inside him when he realizes he is once again in front of the psychic's store.

Blinking with awe, he remembers her words all too clearly last night.

"I can help you Tate, but only if you want to be helped."

Swallowing hard, Tate begins to bang on the glass door, the bells obnoxiously banging against it. "Billie! Please if you're in there! I need to talk to you!" he screams through the door, alternating between yelling and peering inside to see any signs of response. "Please...help me! You're the only one who can!"

With one last glance inside, Tate drops his arms back to his sides, defeated. Turning away from the store front, he stares out into the street, his gaze blank and empty and helpless as cars pass him one by one, none giving the faceless nobody the time of day.

"I knew you would come."

Jolted back to reality, Tate whirled back around to find Billie standing in the doorway of the store front, none of the glitter and glamour from last night present. "You...knew?"

"Well...more like guessed. Truth is you're right. I'm a fraud. This gig is only to pay the bills, since my son of a bitch ex husband walked out the door on me. I can't see futures, only spirits. Being a medium and having foresight are two very different gifts. But I do know a bad soul from a good one. And I do know you want to do the right thing."

He looked at her incredulously, and yet there was a small spark of hope deep within that maybe she'd been lying about her prediction too. "So you lied to me?"

"No." She said firmly, staring intently into his eyes. "The reality of your situation is very real." Reaching forward, she took his hand in hers. "Now, come inside."

Crestfallen, he follows numbly while she leads him to a plush couch next to the counter and motions for them both to sit.

Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, she lights one before puffing, sighing as she turns back to face him. "Tate...do you know why I wanted you to come back here? To have your mother bring you here in the first place?"

He only shook his head and looked at her thoughtfully. "You know...you shouldn't be smoking when you're pregnant."

She stared at him thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "Because the future isn't set in stone. We may be able to get glimpses into our futures but in the end the choices that we make ultimately define who we are. There are many futures and the choices we make daily affect those futures. For instance... a married man can be tempted by the love of another woman. He can choose to fall under her spell and ruin his life and that of his family. Or he can refuse her advances and keep his peaceful life."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you need to fight this Tate. You need to let the light in. You need to choose to fight."

Laughing, he leans his head back and closes his eyes. "That's all great and wonderful but you still haven't told me exactly how to do that. If you know so much, don't you think I've been trying?"

"I know you have." she said softly. "But this is gaining power over you and it won't be long before it overtakes you completely."

"It scares me..." he admitted. "It takes over me...I black out. And when I wake up...I know bad things have happened. But I never know what." Sighing, he pauses before speaking. "...So what do I do then?"

"Dark spirits feed on negative energy. Anger...hatred...sadness...vengeance. With these, it will thrive. Light is love. The love between lovers...friends...a parent and their child. Darkness will never win because it does not understand love and will always underestimate it."

Tate laughs again, this time with bitterness coating every word. "Fantastic. Too bad I have no one that loves me. My father ran away when I was six to go fuck his mistress without the burden of me around. And my mother...well you saw what happened last night. She doesn't care about me, she only wants to fix her own mistakes through me."

"Everyone has someone who loves them Tate." Flicking the ashes in her tray, Billie takes another long drag. "She is coming for you."

Tate's eyes snap open as he sits upright, turning to her with cautious hope in his eyes. "Who is "she"?"

Billie smiles slyly. "You've seen her haven't you? In your dreams."

Nodding, he smiles, for the first time in a long time, with no bitterness. "Yeah...everytime I see that...thing in my dreams. She always comes and takes it away. She... saves me. The girl in white. The one with purple violets in her hair. She's so beautiful."

"She's your guardian angel Tate. Cherish her, don't ever let go of her or mistreat her." Reaching one last time for his hand, she squeezes and gives him a hopeful smile. "Stay strong Tate. Everyone can be saved. Even you. Remember that a shadow cannot exist without a light shining."

"I...I understand."

"Good. Now...come back and see me after school. We'll figure this out. We'll get you help."

Nodding, Tate rises from the couch, feeling like maybe there was hope for him for the first time. Moving towards the door, he turns to look back at her his voice quiet. "I...I'm sorry for last night. I'll help you fix it."

Smiling at him, she makes a dismissive motion towards the door. "Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out later."

"Right." he says. Turning to walk out the door, he walks out into the bright morning sunlight, feeling stronger.

"He's a sensitive boy, you know that. A young man with too deep feelings, the soul of a poet, but none of the grit or steel that acts as a bulwark against... the horrors of this world."

But before he can turn the corner, his body stiffens as he feels the familiar icy darkness creeping into his vision. He can feel himself losing control, a loud piercing shriek pulsing in his head. Dropping to his knees he tumbles to the grass below, clutching his head in pain. "No...please...not now. Let me go..." he begs, his plea falling on deaf ears. "I have...to fight it..."

'Tate...please...get up. You can do it Tate...fight it.'

Struggling to lift his head, he raises it enough to see a girl in front of him, a familiar white dress and an unearthly aura, her face framed with delicate violet blossoms. 'Don't go...don't leave me Tate. Please...' she pleaded.

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, his breath coming in sharp, jagged coughs. "I'm...sorry. I can't...so...sorry..." he breathed, before blacking out completely.

The last images to cross his mind were of her...of his angel...reaching out to him. A small, crystalline tear falling from her eyes, fading from his eyesight as the darkness won the war.

Author's Notes
- First of all, I wanna say I hope it's okay so far- this is my first time for writing something other than anime admittedly. I know there's no pregnancy stuff yet, but trust me I'm building to it. :D Let's just say I love my plot twists, yes indeed.
- This story does operate off the assumption that Tate was in fact possessed by a demon, thus explaining the "dual personality".
- I know it said in the series that Constance met Billie Dean through Craigslist...but I figured this could be something to write off as another one of those lies she tells because she doesn't want people knowing the full truth. And truthfully I'm also trying to build up the whole "why does everyone have baby fever" stuff and make a confrontation between Billie and Tate that would explain down the line her harsh reaction to him in "Birth" (not that being demonically possessed wouldn't)
- And yes, he did in fact go commit the massacre after he blacked out at the end, as well as set Larry on fire.
- And... I guess that's all for now. Hope it wasn't too boring ;/ Haven't written in awhile so I'm kinda out of touch. I'm sorry if I didn't fully proofread it yet- I'm dead tired (hah) and I just wanted to get it up on the site for now.

Thank you for reading ^^