A/N: According to /2011/10/31/the-real-american-horror-story-house-in-l-a/, the actual square footage of the murder house lot is 30,000. To me that seems like way too much freedom for the 25 ghosts we know to be trapped on the grounds, and a lot more than we ever saw pictured in the show, so I'm whittling it down to a Seattle sized 7,000. I also chose the second name of three Vivien threw out for the baby that only drew one breath in "Afterbirth" because I liked it the best.

The look that Violet gives at 45:52 during "Afterbirth," makes it obvious that she knows Tate is just outside the living room, she looks bothered and then complacent, like she is thinking about things. She doesn't look mad. I may be pathetic for going off of one single second of the finale, but forever is an awfully long time to hold a grudge, so I am going with the optimist view here. Feel free to combat my rationale or provide your own spin in reviews.


Violet stared at the wrought iron gate, as though she could will it to the opposite side of the street. Five years ago she was alive. She could stroll down the street, steal her father's contraband cigarettes, even attending school was preferable to being trapped inside the 7,000 square feet that made up the lot of the Murder House. Now, postmortem, all she could do was gaze out at the world she would only be able to venture out into once a year till the end of time. "I can't believe I'm doomed to an eternity of being a teenager," she muttered under her breath.

"Doomed is a pretty strong word." Violet's mother Vivien said.

"I know." Violet was quick to amend her comment. "I've just been so bored."

"You know what they say-"

"Only the boring get bored. I know, I know." Violet cut in, having heard the very same cliché from her mother dozens of times a week in the years before their deaths. "I feel boring. I love you and Dad and Jonah, but it just feels like every day is exactly the same. I don't have friends, I don't leave the house, I'm going a little nuts. Totally open to suggestions at this point." Viven smiled at her daughter.

"I can always use help with Jonah." Violet groaned as Vivien laughed. "Alright, alright, I get it. It isn't fun to change newborn diapers on an unending rotation. I guess I'm tapped out of ideas, too, honey. Did you talk to Elizabeth or Nora? I bet they have some ideas about how to keep busy."

"Next you'll be asking me to clean with Moira." Violet sighed.

"Now that isn't a bad idea."

"Goodbye!" Violet jumped off the porch and strolled into the yard.

"Fucking house." She glared up at it, only to catch a glimpse of Tate watching her from her dad's office.

As soon as she looked back up, he was gone. He'd been watching her since the incident with the family that moved in last- the Morenos. Violet shivered inwardly as she remembered distracting Tate so Gabe could escape with his parents. If only someone had done the same for her! Violet's trek ended at the edge of the backyard, past her mother's lines strung for clean sheets. If only things were different. She was torn between longing to talk to and touch the troubled boy and feeling utter disdain for everything he represented. Hadn't he been just as disgusting and full of shit as her father?

Violet drew her legs up into a criss cross, trying not to think of all the tim'es she and Tate had occupied this space together. At times she would contemplate her life if she had not managed to take her own life. Would she be in college out of state? She'd probably have graduated and have a job by now, something in history or art. Maybe geology, even archaeology? She'd always relished the past and demanded concrete evidence... Now everything seemed skewed and in stasis... Would she ever feel like an adult?

"Miss Violet?" Moira seemed to appear from between the sheets her mother still insisted on air drying.

Violet nodded, acknowledging the older woman. "Your mother is very worried about you." Violet's eyebrow raise was her only response.

"She is. Ms. Harm- Vivien went down to speak with Tate a while ago." Violet almost fell off of her concrete perch.

"What?"

Moira nodded, affirming her earlier comment. "She is a very forgiving woman. And she is worried you aren't happy. Are you happy?" The older housekeeper tacked the question on, almost as an afterthought.

"No." Violet answered before she had time to think.

Moira's sharp and reprimanding glance made her backtrack. "I mean, I know I am a lot better off than a lot of the spirits here, I just..." Moira gave a small smirk / smile.

"I think I understand. He seems to feel the same- I know the young Mr. Langdon has done awful things; many I've had to clean up after, but I do think he has changed." after a pause, "I've probably overstepped my bounds, Violet."

Violet shook her head fervently. "No. I need some outside opinions at this point. I'm completely cashed out of my own theories and ideas right now. I don't know what to think." she offered lamely.