A/N. Anyways, this is a One-shot about my favorite CATCF OC that my sister and I have come up with. His name is Tempest, he is thirteen, and I think I already mentioned he was my favorite. I only have co-ownership of him with my sister, but I gave him his name, which I had already loved, and came up with this story line. My sister is already planning on writing a CATCF fanfiction with Tempest, his siblings, cousins, friends, and the rest of the gang at some point, but this is just my take on what would happen. This scene might be featured in her story, but it would look entirely different, besides the fact that it's still Tempest at the center of that certain point of the story. Also, if anyone is confused about the title, the word Tempest is basically a more sophisticated word for 'storm'. Well, technically, 'a violet storm', but I don't want to get too into detail. So, the title is in a way, talking about Tempest. And Violet, which you might have guessed from the description. Anyways, that's just about it! I hope you like this story, and once you're done, leave a review, favorite, follow, and as always… Enjoy! Tempest
Hello everyone! I bet no one knows me on this fandom, because it's my first CATCF fanfiction, so let me introduce myself. My name is LunaOdin1234… and that's basically it about me.
I'm wide awake when I hear the whimpering a few doors down.
"Gus...Gus!" I say, shaking Augustus hard. He yelped, startled, and sat up in bed next to me. "Vi, what's wrong?" he asked. I held a finger to my lips, and pointed at the door so he could listen. "Is that Tempest?" I asked. He was always better at identifying who it was than I was, which left me pretty guilty. I should know when my children were distressed.
A few moments of listening from my husband, then, "Yes, it's him." We leapt out of bed at the same time, me grabbing a flashlight off of the bedside table. We always had one on hand when this happens, so we wouldn't have to turn on any lights and wake up the whole factory. A few doors down we rushed into another room, me turning on the flashlight to see what was going on.
There was Tempest, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat, shaking in terror, with tears beginning to roll down his pale cheeks. The sheets were a mess, Tempest's black hair was all over the place, and his deep blue eyes, the eyes he was so frightened of himself, had a faint look of horror as the nightmare he had apparently just woken up from replayed in his brain.
Immediately, I rushed over to his bedside and pulled him into a hug just as he was really starting to softly cry. "Shh. Shh. It's okay." I said slowly. "I'm here. Dad and I are here. You're safe. You're not blowing up…" Even as I said this, Tempest continued to cry into my shoulder. Augustus grabbed a trash can from the corner of the room and brought it over in case Tempest ended up getting sick.
"How bad was it this time?" Gus asked. "Bad." Tempest answered weakly, breaking away from me and turning to face his father. "I kept calling for help...no one came, even when it felt like I was about to burst."
"Tempest, you're not gonna burst. We would never let that happen." I said. All he did was sniffle and lean his head against my shoulder again. It always hurts to see him this upset over his fear. Of course we knew how he felt, and understood, but it was a real blow for me. It always made me feel like this was all my fault.
After the factory tour when I was a child, I had to stay and recover for a few months. It hurt, a lot, and my father was furious at Mr. Wonka for what happened to me. But as I did recover, and I heard what had happened to the others, I realized just how much we deserved our fates. How much I deserved to be turned into a blueberry. And I couldn't have been happier for Mr. Wonka teaching me a lesson. We were all pretty satisfied. And Mr. Wonka offered me, at age thirteen, a job. A real job, to be in charge of advertising, which I would share with Mike Teavee. It was an offer I couldn't refuse.
Then, things took a turn for the unexpected. Mrs. Teavee called the cops on my father, for a reason they weren't telling me. Suddenly, I was being taken in to draw blood for DNA tests, and they came up with the unthinkable. Apparently, she was my biological mother! Meaning Mike was my older brother! My father had wanted to raise me to be famous, but when she disapproved, he ran with me. I hadn't even thought to wonder who my mother was. And when she failed to find me, she turned to alcohol, leaving Mike to his own devices. It had happened because she couldn't find her daughter. And for once, my father was getting what he deserved. A life sentence.
Another major change happened when a young girl broke into the factory disguised as Veruca, Mr. Wonka's new secretary. It got pretty crazy when the real Veruca actually caught the girl pretending to be her, but they looked so alike that for a few weeks we couldn't trust either one. Eventually, we caught both in the same room, and found the imposter.
And to our shock, she claimed to be Mr. Wonka's daughter.
Her name was Elizabeth, Eliza for short. She had come to take the factory from her father and Charlie, after claiming it was rightfully hers as his daughter. Surprisingly, Mr. Wonka had tearfully said this was true, and apologized for sending her to live with his elder sister after her mother's death. Charlie and Elizabeth would now have co-ownership of the factory.
Thank goodness that was the last crazy event for a few years afterwards. Eventually, we grew up. Charlie's grandparents all had a chance to test out a pill that would make them at least thirty or forty years younger, and they were still around, better than ever, no longer bed-bound. Things were absolutely perfect.
Then they became even better. I actually started a relationship, with Augustus, who had been promoted to head taste-tester. After a few years, we got engaged, then married. And two years into our marriage, I discovered that I was pregnant. Gus and I were both so excited for the baby, and that we were going to be parents. We spent the long months preparing and counting down the days until it was time. Finally, just as summer was coming to a close, Tempest was born.
He was beautiful, and perfectly healthy. I will never forget the moment I held him for the first time. So tiny and precious. Augustus and I had both cried, because there was so much joy that day. I wanted to spend hours holding my son, and never let him go. Then the real trouble began.
Gus and I both have brown eyes. They are pretty common in our family, especially on my side, due to my heritage. And we both knew that if we had brown eyes, Tempest would surely have them too.
Until he opened them to reveal blue eyes. And they weren't the normal sky blue or baby blue you would find as an eye color. They were dark. Almost indigo. Almost…
Violet.
Any happiness I had was almost entirely replaced with fear for my child's well-being. I panicked, and immediately called Mr. Wonka to tell him what happened. Once we were back at the factory, Wonka took a look at him, and partially confirmed my new worst fears. He said that currently, Tempest was still in good health, and the violet eyes might have just been faulty genetics from my side due to the incident when I was thirteen, but there was a possibility that it could happen. If luck wasn't on our side, Tempest could undergo the same transformation that I underwent, at any given time.
As you can imagine, I was devastated. I hadn't even thought of what would happen if I did have children and they might accidentally have inherited something leftover from the incident. To even think that Tempest might turn into a blueberry one day, would be unbearable for me.
Still, we couldn't let fear get the best of us. At this point, all we could really do was pray for the best, and for now, ignore it. Life went on as usual. Tempest was growing normally, and pretty soon, he was walking and (somewhat) talking. Charlie and Elizabeth (who had married), had a daughter named Raven, and Mike and Veruca had a boy, named Vito, my nephew. Even so, whenever I looked at Tempest, I couldn't help but pay attention to the fear nagging at the back of my mind. I couldn't help but fear of what would happen if he, and/or any other children I might have had in the future would transform against their will…
So you can imagine how terrified I was the second time I was pregnant.
The first time, with Tempest, it was easy, because we didn't even fathom the upcoming situation. The second time, I was on edge every minute of every single day. I could barely sleep. I kept to myself, and my own thoughts. It was so bad that even Tempest, who was barely two, knew something was wrong. I just wanted to see if the baby had violet eyes or not, and that would be that. A few more months of waiting, and our daughter Julia was born. She looked exactly like me...brown eyes and all. I literally breathed a sigh of relief when she opened her eyes for the first time.
Tempest loved his baby sister. He would spend hours doting over her, and begging to let him help me take care of Julia. That was a sign that things were returning to normal, Mr. Wonka had said, and to be honest, I couldn't help but feel like it was true.
Seven more years went by after Julia's birth. Besides Tempest and Julia, I ended up having two more children. Jackson, who looked like me and Julia, also had brown eyes. And Bianca, who looked like Tempest and Augustus, was known in the factory for being the only child to inherit her father's red-blond hair (and brown eyes, leaving Tempest the only one we had to be nervous for regarding anything blueberry like). Besides them, Mike and Veruca had another son, named Forest, and Charlie and Eliza had another daughter, who they actually named Charlene, and called her Charlie as a nickname. But most of the time, everyone called her CJ.
Tempest was nine. He and his siblings were growing up fast. Tempest was a responsible older brother, making sure his siblings didn't get out of line, and was very caring and kind. But of course, he eventually began to notice things, and ask questions. Why did I get so scared when he got sick? Why did our family avoid eating blueberries? And of course, why were his eyes blue-violet and ours were all brown?
Augustus and I made up our minds to tell him. We called him up to our room one night, and explained everything, which heavily included the story of the tour. And, boy, did I wish we had waited longer. He seemed fine afterwards, maybe a little quiet, but that night he had the first of the nightmares. If felt like we had walked into a living nightmare ourselves.
Tempest had come down with a slight bout of anxiety, and it mainly revolved around the new fear he had accidentally developed; transforming into a blueberry, like I had. And it didn't stop there. Thank goodness the nightmares are every few days, and not too frequent, because they are nasty. And mostly, the same thing. His skin turns blue, then he helplessly swells, and to top it all off, it ends in a grizzly explosion. That's what he's told me, and nothing sounds as if it had been exaggerated.
I couldn't have felt more guilty than when I was told he had anxiety. It felt like it was my fault that he had been wrapped up in all of this. Not just from him being traumatised by the story...but from the fact that I had ever taken the gum in the first place. I was a fool, thinking what I had thought...and now thanks to my wayward plans, Tempest was suffering. And it could only get worse from here if our fears came true.
The nightmares have been going on for four years now. Tempest had turned thirteen a little less than two months ago. Augustus and I have adapted to the situation, and were prepared for when a nightmare springs up. Like tonight.
It's been about fifteen minutes now, and I think Tempest is fine. "You okay, honey?" I asked, just to be sure.
He nodded. "Yeah. I think I'm okay." he said quietly.
Gently, I placed a kiss on the top of his head. "Okay. Try to go back to sleep, then we'll talk about it in the morning." Gus and I stood up, and we were about to leave when Tempest suddenly lunged for the trash can.
"Oh crap." Gus said. We both rushed back over just in time for him to get sick. Once he was finished, he looked sheepishly back at me.
"I'm sorry. I thought I was fine…" he trailed off. I put my hand on his forehead to see if he was coming down with something, but I was surprised to find that it wasn't warm at all. Maybe it was just nerves from the nightmare...then again...
Frowning, I put my hand back to check just for sure. And just as I had felt before, to my confusion, his forehead was strangely cold. That was definitely off. Now worried, I took my hand down and tried to think of an explanation. "Mom? What's wrong?" Tempest said, looking frightened. He looked up at me…
Just in time for the tiny bits of violet to break out on his face.
In two seconds flat, I had scrambled to the door and was now screaming nonsense, in a desperate attempt to get help to the room. I could barely think straight. My only thought was to save my child. Behind me, I heard Tempest cry out in alarm.
The next few minutes had become a blur. Pretty soon, the entire factory was awake and ready. Mr. Wonka pulled Charlie out of his and Eliza's room and they ran upstairs together, claiming they needed something crucial for the situation. The children were all up, and tried running down the hall to see what was happening, but Mike got there first, and slammed the door so we could have some privacy. I could see the sense of dread in his expression. We all knew what was coming.
And I wasn't happy about it...neither was Tempest, of course.
He was a wreck, clinging to his father as if he would disappear into thin air, and sobbing. The bits of violet had grown into large blotches on his face and arms. Even his hair was beginning to change color. If I had been scared as a child when this had happened to me, and I had no idea it was coming, I couldn't imagine how bad this was for Tempest, because he knew what he was in for.
"Here, lie down honey." I said to Tempest, tears pouring down my face. Tempest laid down on his bed, putting his head in Gus's lap. Maybe that would be a little more calming before the change began. It didn't make much of a difference though. "Shh...shh… don't cry, Tempest, please. You're gonna be okay." I said, kneeling down next to the bed.
"I'm scared." he whimpered, turning his head to face me. He already had one hand on his stomach, and was reaching to place the other one there as well. Being as gentle as I could, I placed my hand there as well, and just as I suspected, I could already feel liquid running underneath his skin and the fabric of his shirt. It was all I could do not to break down crying even harder right there. Tempest, still in tears, began moaning in discomfort, probably from a stomach ache building up from the pressure.
Augustus, who looked extremely worried, began stroking the back of Tempest's head to keep him calm. "Shh, just relax. It's going to be okay." I was surprised when Tempest actually did calm down, still crying softly.
Through my own tears, I asked, "How did you do that?"
Gus shook his head. "I don't know." he said truthfully before looking back down at Tempest, who had closed his eyes and was trying not to look frightened. "I just hope it won't be too much for him to handle." he whispered.
The door swung open and in came Charlie, who immediately shut the door behind him. "Mr. Wonka thought of something we can do!" he said. "Really?!" I shouted, standing up. Tempest's eyes opened and he turned to look at us again. "Yes, but I want you all to listen to me, because we probably don't have a lot of time before the swelling starts." Charlie explained.
"Right now, Mr. Wonka is upstairs with some of the Oompa-Loompas. They're making some kind of medicine, which they'll give to Tempest before he can fully transform. This means when they do get down here to give it to him, he'll stop swelling immediately. The bad news is that stopping the change is all it can do. It's not powerful enough to reverse anything. So if we give it to him at any point in this, he'll have to be stuck like that for a little while before we can come up with a way to reverse it. The situation isn't good, but it's not the worst either. At this point, this is the best that we can do for Tempest." Charlie finished.
I felt numb. Tempest was going to be stuck, half transformed, for an unknown amount of time. We can't fully save him from this fate. And it's all my fault.
...Why?
…..Why?Why did it have to be poor Tempest?
I turned when a scream of pain rang through the room.
And I was forced to watch my beautiful child begin to transform before my eyes.
The swelling started faster than we were prepared for. I had rushed back over in seconds, and there was nothing Gus or I could do but hold our baby tightly and pray that it would be over soon. We pressed Tempest tightly in between us, trying hard to do anything that could ease the pain, but it was no use. No matter what we tried, he was still in agony. Charlie still stood at the door, looking out every now and then to watch for Mr. Wonka.
I was in hysterics. "This is all my fault!" I shouted. "If I hadn't taken that stupid gum, none of this would have happened!" Gus looked up at me, eyes filled with tears.
"Violet, this will never be your fault! You didn't know this would happen, none of us did! Besides, it doesn't even matter! We just have to fix it now, and it'll all go away!"
'I just wish it was that easy!' I bitterly thought to myself. No, now wasn't the time. Tempest needs me. His breathing was speeding up, and he was shaking. It was all happening so fast, and I didn't think he could handle it for much longer. He had his face buried into my chest, and I think he was trying not to scream. All I wanted to do was make this end. What I would do to turn back time, and keep him protected from any harm. Thank goodness they would be able to stop this before it got to a dangerous level. Then he'll at least have some dignity left, because I was just realizing how embarrassing this must have been for him.
The door burst open a few seconds later, and in came Mr. Wonka, and a few Oompa Loompas. "YES! THANK GOODNESS!" Gus shouted upon their arrival. Mr. Wonka paid no attention to either him or me. He came over and knelt down.
"Tempest, can you listen to me?" he asked calmly. In tears, Tempest nodded. "Okay, we need you to hold out your arm and keep it as still as possible. We're gonna get this fixed, I promise." Tempest did as he was told, not daring to open his eyes. I think he didn't want to see what he looked like. Mr. Wonka noticed this too. "Poor thing. I never wanted this to happen to him."
Mr. Wonka pulled out a large syringe, and proceeded to insert it into Tempest's arm. No one even protested. Just as Mr. Wonka said, the swelling stopped immediately. It hadn't gotten to the point of him fully transforming, but it was still pretty horrible. Tempest stopped crying to try and catch his breath, and when he did, he head flopped backwards onto the pillow. Then he was still.
I almost panicked seeing this, until Mr. Wonka said, "Alright, let's let him rest now. He's exhausted."
I turned to face Mr. Wonka. "Please tell me he'll be okay…"
All he did was let out a sigh. "I'll do everything I can Violet, I'll promise you that. In the meantime, let him sleep. The best thing we can do for him now is to let him recover."
Gus and I made a silent decision to stay with Tempest for the rest of the night. It would probably be a bit more calming when he woke the next morning to see both of us. Gus fell asleep quickly too, also due to being exhausted, but I couldn't find sleep for a few hours. There was just too much on my mind. I couldn't stop asking myself why it had to happen, and why it happened to my poor baby.
While sleeping, Tempest seemed frail and fragile, his breathing soft and delicate. Occasionally, he would moan or whimper in his sleep, reminding me that he was probably still in pain. All I could do was keep him cradled in my arms, safe and sound.
Guilt had completely overtaken me. Just seeing him like this made me feel sick. I remembered what Gus had said earlier, about it not being my fault. Even though his words were kind, I still didn't know if I believed him. This was worse than when I was a child. The same fear, but completely different pain. Because it was Tempest this time, not me. It pained me to just think about how terrifying it must have been for him to completely loose control of his own body, and how much it had damaged him in return.
Somehow, in all of the turmoil I was experiencing, sleep finally overcame me. It was a only a few hours before I awoke again. Both Gus and Tempest were still peacefully dreaming, which I was glad about. When I looked at the small nightstand, there were painkillers, and a glass of water. I knew Mr. Wonka must have left these while we slept. Silently, I smiled and thanked him.
It was another thirty minutes before I heard Tempest stir. Quickly, I sat up. "Tempest?" I whispered. "Are you awake?" Silence at first, until his eyes fluttered open, blinking to try and get used to the light. Then, once he was fully awake, he groaned. "Ow…" was all he could mutter, quietly.
I had the painkillers and water in my hands within two seconds. "Here, drink this. You'll feel a lot better." I said. After sitting up with some difficulty, he took the medicine and water gratefully. It was only afterwards when he was finished that he focused on the now blue skin of his hands. Instantly, I wanted to cry. The feeling only got stronger when he pushed away the blanket that was covering him, and saw his horribly swollen abdomen and legs. The whole time, he was silent, but I could tell how upset he was.
'This is my fault. All mine. I could have stopped this.' Was what went through my mind at that second. Without a second thought, every mothering instinct overcame me, and I slowly pulled Tempest into an embrace, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. I shouldn't have taken that stupid gum..." My voice cracked, and I couldn't finish.
"No."
"What?" I ask as Tempest looks up at me again. "Mom, don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault." he said quietly.
I am unbelievably stunned. "But...what do you mean? I took the-"
"You couldn't have known this was going to happen. None of us did." He pulled away and sat facing me. "Hear me out. Sure, you did take the gum without permission. But, no one told you what it was going to do to you. So, it couldn't have entirely been your fault. Plus, it's not like we could have made a choice about if this was going to happen to me or not. It was pretty much fate before I was born."
"But that wasn't fair for you!" I said. Tempest quickly lifted a finger to his mouth and shushed me, pointing to Augustus and reminding me that he was still asleep.
"Listen, what happened, happened. It's okay. There's a way we can fix this, and we will fix this. But for now, we just have to make the best of a bad situation. That's how I'll get through this. Sure, it was painful, and terrifying, and everything I've been having nightmares about for the last four years. Heck, it still hurts really badly, but that's okay. We'll both get through this, I'll help you with that. And I definitely know it should be the other way around, but you need this most." He took both of my hands into his, smiling sadly.
"You shouldn't blame yourself anymore about something that happened years ago. I don't." he said. "You've already been through enough. And the only person who hasn't forgiven you...is yourself. It's time for a change."
He was right. Tears went flowing down my face as I realized immediately he was right. Seeing this, he pulled me closer and whispered into my ear, "It's okay, Mom. Don't cry. I'll be fine, trust me." I couldn't help but feel as if this was true.
I shouldn't have been locking away my mistakes and pretending they didn't exist. I am human after all, even after ironically ending up a little less so for a day. Of course I learned from the experience, and I should be proud that I did. As long as I could get past it was all that really mattered from the beginning. Tempest had figured this out long before me. And he accepted it. As his mother, I couldn't have been prouder of him, not only for helping bring me out of my shadowy past, but for being incredibly brave during all this. He may not have known it, but he was wise beyond his years. And eventually, we'll both be healed.
Behind us, Augustus yawned, then sat up, rubbing his eyes. When he finally focused his eyes, they widened as he remembered what had occured the night before. "Tempest!" he said, looking at his oldest child with worry. "Are you alright?!"
Tempest answered with a wide grin, "I feel a lot better than last night." He rested his head on my shoulder, making me smile. "So do I." I said.
Every worry I had experienced suddenly ceased to exist. I felt calm, and at peace. And to be honest, it was a little bittersweet. My thirteen-year-old self was contented with the apology she never knew she had gotten. And that made me feel as if I didn't have any of my old worries anymore. The past was gone now, and we had to focus on the future, like Tempest had said.
Knowing this will make his recovery so much better.
A/N. Just to clear up any confusion, in the musical, Augustus is Caucasian, while Violet is African American. Therefore, I decided to have two children take after Augustus, while the other two take after Violet. Tempest and Bianca, the youngest, are Caucasian, like Augustus, while Julia and Jackson, the two middle children, are African American like Violet. It's just a little fun fact that I wanted you guys to know about just in case anyone get's confused. I might do another one-shot with his siblings, and their reactions to the situation, and I have another one-shot idea involving Tempest and Jackson, and a lot of sweet fluffiness. I don't know which one I'll do first though, and I need to think it over. Other than that, that's pretty much it for now! I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I did, and once you're done, leave a review, favorite, follow, and as always… Thank you! ;)
Wow! That took a really long time to write. But actually, I really think it was worth the wait. I've actually wanted to write that for a long time now, I just was having trouble thinking of how to put the story into writing.