Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from the ASOUE characters. All other characters are the product of my imagination and belong to me.
Warning: Incest.
A/N: Yes! Finally! From this point on, things should be moving along much faster. Here, I think, is the start of what we've all been waiting for.
~ Pretani
Convergence
We're one, but we're not the same. Well we hurt eachother, then we do it again.
~" One"
"How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said."
~Victor Hugo
She was giving in, wilting in front of him, and he couldn't… he couldn't just stand by and let her fall.
"Vi, there's got to be another way. We'll break into someone's basement, or a storage closet." He threw out ideas randomly, like darts at a target. One would hit the mark- it had to. There's always something…
He was no inventor; that was her role. But her silhouette lay behind his every move, in each thought and word and action, so much a part of him that he almost couldn't tell the difference anymore. "You can still pick locks, can't you? Violet?"
She refused to look at him. " Vi?" He held her arms, all but pinning her to the wall. " I know you can. Please…"
" I.. I don't know." Violet tried to imagine what she might use, but she felt empty, as if every ounce of her ingenuity had vanished along with her ribbon. She was no longer that girl, the one with all the confidence.
And she was so tired of being strong. "It depends on the lock… I don't know… I don't…" She closed her eyes so she wouldn't see his face. This would be awful enough without the knowledge that she was hurting him severely. " I'm done, Klaus. I don't have anything else to give."
" Vi…" he was pleading, willing her to believe in herself again, because he did. " You're a brilliant inventor," he told her. " It's who you are. Nothing can take that away. You don't need your ribbon- you don't need anything else."
Instinctively, he crushed her to him, though the slightest touch from her lit a bonfire under his skin. Pain like he'd never known, scorching and brutal. But he didn't hesitate, not even when she clung to him just as tightly. He couldn't let her go.
"It was always you," he murmured into her hair. "We're still alive because of you."
There was a terrible love in him in that moment, a ferocity that she'd only glimpsed in traces. She could feel it, passing through her like heat, and it shook her to her core. He would fight and bleed and suffer willingly, but he would not give her up...
"Alright," her voice was muffled against his shoulder. "I'll try… I'll try, Klaus."
The old, dilapidated motel seemed to leer at her, its black-curtained windows like so many glaring eyes, fiendish and sinister.
She felt her brother release the breath he'd been holding, his taught, lean muscles drawn in around her like armor. And for the first time in so long, she felt safe. If I could just stay here…
"It's probably infested with cockroaches, anyhow," she said, almost reluctant to separate from him.
" Well, at least one that we know of."
She had to smirk at that, if only a little. "Once we settle on a place, I'll see what I can do with the lock."
And then they were both talking at the same time.
"A house won't work. We need to be sure no one will come in during the night. I think we should look at-"
"It has to have a storeroom or cellar we can access from the outside. What about-"
" The Hardware and Goods Store," they said in unison.
Affection graced her features, like embers flaring into life. She was Violet again, his Violet, and it seemed she had never been lost or listless at all.
"How do you know me so well, Klaus? "
Levity turned to terror, stark and explicit, as his mind went numb. Does she know? But her eyes told him she was searching for something- the solution to a riddle, the missing piece… What I wouldn't give, to be able to tell her…
" It's easy," he managed a grin. " I- "
He was interrupted by another sneeze from Sunny, who'd been watching them silently.
The elder Baudelaires practically flew apart, remembering their sister- both of them red in the face, as if they'd done something they shouldn't have. And Sunny wondered what it was.
" Mr. Engels was nice to us," she spoke up, to remind them that she was a good listener. And that she was there. "I don't' want to make a mess in his store."
"I- I'll be careful," Violet promised, after she'd found her voice. She glanced at her brother then, almost shyly. " I just hope we can pay him back one day."
" We will, I know we will," Sunny brightened. She clapped her hands, and then she sneezed again.
They hadn't even set foot inside the store when Mr. Engels greeted them once more. "You folks still fixing to stay around?
"For a little while," Violet evaded the question. She tried to sound nonchalant, as if they'd merely come by for a chat. "We were hoping you could tell us more about this area."
Mr. Engels smiled at Sunny, who diverted her attention away from the cereal aisle to peer up at him, sweet as a little cherub.
He didn't know that she was biding her time, waiting for an opportunity to sneak out of sight while he talked with her brother and sister. It was her job to find the storeroom and report back to Violet. " A reconnaissance mission," Klaus had called it. And she was not going to fail.
After all, for most of her young life vigilance had been more important than the shoes on her feet. I'll be the best spy ever. Just wait, she told herself. When he looks away…
But he didn't, and now a woman was there too, and Sunny wanted to stamp on the floor in frustration.
The lady seemed nice, though. She was older, with white hair. But she seemed relaxed and friendly in a way, in jeans and a plaid, button-down shirt. Like a farmer wears. And she smelled like ginger and soda pop, not at all unpleasant.
Apparently, Mr. Engels wanted her to meet them and Sunny thought she might as well go along with it. For now...
"There's someone I'd like you to meet," the shopkeeper said. "This is Ethel Borden. She owns a farm spread a ways from town." And he turned to the woman. " These are the kids I was telling you about. The… uh… what did you say your names were? "
Violet extended her hand. We're well prepared for this, at least. She couldn't afford to be indecisive, didn't think twice about lying. Not anymore. Without missing a beat, she gave the false names they'd chosen earlier, on the long walk from the train.
"The Wilsons," she said. " I'm afraid we didn't introduce ourselves before. I'm Helen, and this is Will and Annabelle."
"Annie," Sunny amended. She preferred the short version; it was more like her real name.
"You can call me Ethie - everyone does. " The elderly woman shook her hand with surprising strength. And then she told them all about the town and her nearest neighbors.
Something about her made Violet think of people she'd met years ago- as her family had been shuffled about from one ordeal to the next.
The way she talks… as if everybody is inherently good. Or at least, she expects them to be.
Violet understood this as naiveté- she'd seen enough adults with that look to last a dozen lifetimes. This woman belonged to that other world, where integrity prevailed and life was fair, where houses didn't burn and children were not abandoned to the mercy of vile predators.
But just as surely, she had learned that people often saw in others a mirror of themselves. She believes that everyone is good, because she is good.
"What an adorable little girl you have," The kindly voice encroached on her memories.
"Thanks!" Sunny beamed. She'd never been one to shun a compliment, when it was genuine.
" If you don't mind my saying, you two don't look old enough to have a child her age. How old is she? "
Violet shared a secret glance with her brother, and one simultaneous thought. Maybe we can trust her. Suddenly, the whole room seemed lighter somehow.
And she decided to risk a little honesty. "She's our sister."
" I'm four," Sunny told her, as though it were a grand accomplishment.
"Isn't that wonderful ?" Ethie smiled.
Klaus could've sworn the woman felt just as proud of Sunny as he and Violet did. She was frank and outspoken, if a bit nosy. Not unlike his little sister, when he thought about it.
Sunny's natural curiosity got the better of her then. "Do you have any kids?"
"Why, yes, I do. I have a son, but I seldom see him. He's away, serving in the army."
"A regular hero," Mr. Engels put in. " It's been some time since his last visit."
" That's very true," she went on. "And it would be so nice to have him home again. You see," she said to the Baudelaires, " I've lived alone on the farm since my husband died last year."
She looks sad, Sunny thought. I wish I could give her a hug.
"I hear you kids were asking about work. Lord knows I could use some help, if you're interested. I can't pay much but room and board."
Another look passed between Violet and Klaus, a tacit conversation, and he understood her question as well as if she'd spelled it out for him.
His response was the barest hint of a nod, imperceptible to everyone but her. And she had the answer she wanted.
" We'd be pleased to come and work for you, Mrs. Borden. I mean…" Violet paused, a bit self-conscious. " I mean, Ethie." She wasn't used to such openness with strangers.
"Really? You'll really give us a job?" Sunny could scarcely contain herself, and she launched herself at Ethie, hugging her legs. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Klaus wondered if he should intervene before Sunny accidentally knocked her down, but the woman seemed delighted with the little girl.
"Bless me," she said. " If I didn't need the help I could use the company."
The farmhouse was as warm and comfortable as it was isolated, Klaus thought. There were no beds in the room he shared with Violet and Sunny, but they made do with the blankets and pillows they'd borrowed from Ethie. It had been her sewing room, he guessed, judging by the machine in the far corner.
How quickly things can change… One minute we were ready to resort to breaking and entering, or worse, and now…. Who would've imagined we'd be here, on a farm?
Their new employer couldn't have been more thoughtful and generous. She treated them like a doting grandmother, and she was especially fond of Sunny.
Nearly two months had passed since their arrival, without incident. Sunny recovered from her cold, and his ankle had healed well enough, though he never did rest it properly.
No unforeseen problems had emerged, and no malevolent stalkers had come knocking at the old screen door. Yet here he was, staring at the ceiling on another sleepless night.
His near-flawless memory wouldn't let him forget… It would surely be the end of him… And not only him… Violet… Her voice, and the look in her eyes when she told Sunny that nothing would tear their family apart…
Together, he knew they could conquer any misfortune, outlast any adversary lying in wait. But now, the threat was inside of him, like acid in his blood… and if he didn't find some way to control it…
He'd never cared about sharing a room with his sisters before, but this… this was torture, plain and simple, and the more he fought it the more he felt…
Sunny provided a welcome diversion, but in her absence, he was afraid of what he might do. And he couldn't avoid Violet. Not always…
Before dawn, day in and day out, there were chores to be done in the barn. Violet didn't want to drag her little sister out into the frigid air, and truth be told, neither did he.
So it was only the two of them, alone each morning, and at first, he thought it would kill him. Yet, in a strange sort of paradox, he was glad just to be with her.
When their work was finished, they'd open the barn doors to see the sunrise. It had become a kind of ritual with them, ever since that first morning under the open sky. Violet would lean against the doorframe, looking out across the fields, now covered in a dusting of frost and snow that glittered like a sea of glass fragments.
The reflected sunlight will blind us if it snows any harder, he thought. Things are different out here. Without the piercing city lights, the black of night seemed deeper, the dawn that much more beautiful in contrast. He could understand how it came to be a symbol of hope.
Violet seemed to draw solace from the idea of starting again with the new day. In the morning, all worries fell from his sister, and when she closed her eyes he knew that she was somewhere far away.
But he'd never had use for such imagery. Like Sisyphus eternally pushing the boulder up the hill, to Klaus the dawn stood for a fruitless, never-ending task; another day to get through.
Did she see better days ahead? No matter how he tried, he couldn't see the future as she did. While she watched the sun and snowfall, he watched her. And these moments sustained him, gave him hope.
They never lasted long enough. Without fail, Ethie would ring the iron cowbell on the front porch to call them in for breakfast; and dutifully, they would go. She insisted on cooking for them, as a way to show her appreciation, and she would not take "No" for an answer.
She's a good cook. Not like the rest of us, although Sunny's learning fast…
He shifted onto his side, wincing in discomfort. His spare moments were filled with running now, with push-ups and sit-ups and other forms of exercise he'd read about, but never tried before.
He'd believed that exhaustion would ward off the deplorable thoughts that hounded him constantly. If nothing else, he was growing stronger; his sore muscles were a testament to that. But his mind gave no quarter, not even in sleep.
At night, he would tumble, bone-weary, into his pile of quilts, unable even to think of his own name. And still, she was there, inside his head and in his heart.…
In dreams, he'd kiss her endlessly, breathing her breath, and she would hold onto him…. her body curled around his… her skin soft all over….
Centripetal force… That's what it is... The term he'd once gleaned from a physics book seemed especially apt… As if he were trapped in a winding maze, all his roads led back to her, to Violet. There could be no escape.
She was sleeping now- he saw her from across the room, her arm draped over Sunny on the makeshift pallet they shared.
God, how he wanted to trade places with his baby sister… The first pangs of jealousy set in, with the all-too-familiar shame, and immediately, he chastised himself. What's wrong with me? I can't be like this. He felt like a traitor, betraying their trust in him.
How many times had he wished for the courage to tell Violet the truth? Should I do it? Should I tell them both? They'll be devastated… they'll hate me… Sunny's resilient, but this might scar her forever…. We're her stability, her one constant. How can I take that away from her? And Violet's suffered enough, with Olaf and those other perverted men…
Awareness hit him then, painful and nauseating. Is that what I am? A pervert? As much as he despised himself, he believed it to be true.
He chanced another look at Violet and Sunny. How can I leave them? And he felt a tightening in his chest. I can't keep pretending…. The future was apparent to him now- his future- bleak and desolate as a wasteland. A part of him would die without his sisters. But there's no other way.
Would they ever forgive him, when he couldn't forgive himself? He pulled out his pocket watch, now ticking along flawlessly, and with admiration, he remembered how Violet had fixed the inner workings with a toothpick and the small metal point of an earring.
Another stab of pain tore through him. I'll never be with her…
The thought was like a stranglehold, choking the air out of his lungs, and he sighed heavily; it was nearly two o'clock. Maybe I should just go now.
But he remembered the animals and all the work that she'd have to do alone. And, compelled by guilt, he found himself lighting a lantern and heading out to the barn.
Without Violet, the morning chores took more time than he'd expected; two hours elapsed before he finally headed back to the house.
As soon as he walked through the door, he felt his heart skip twice over. Violet was there, pale in the lantern light, awake and dressed and visibly irritated with him.
"Klaus, what are you doing?" Her voice was a heightened whisper. " We're supposed to share the work- you know that."
" I… I couldn't sleep," he offered lamely.
"You might've waited for me."
" I've been waiting…. to talk to you. " Even in her borrowed, hand-me-down work clothes, she was so beautiful… How can I do this?
It was too painful to see her, to want her in every possible way, to know that it would never be…
He tore his eyes from her, one thought resonating in his mind. " I'm going away, Vi- I can't stay here."
She sighed. This wasn't the first time he'd talked of leaving… Sometimes she could still feel the draft in the cramped, dusty room in Olaf's horrid old house. The boarded-up windows, and the rancid smells that wafted up from the kitchen… A shudder ran through her. " Why, Klaus? Is it really so bad here?"
He shook his head. " I can't…I can't hurt you, Vi, you or Sunny… I have to go."
" So that's it, then? You're just going to leave? Don't you think that will hurt us?"
The look on her face was more than he could bear. " If I stay… you don't know…"
"You think we'll be better off without you?" She wanted to shake him, to drive out this imposter and bring back the brother she knew. "It's always been the three of us together. Do we mean so little to you, Klaus?"
" No, Vi … That's the problem." Speech seemed an enormous task, beyond his capability. "You mean too much to me."
"Klaus," she cornered him, forcing him to meet her eyes directly. "What is it? Have I done something?"
She'll blame herself for this. He was in turmoil, guilty of a transgression far worse than stealing, and he loved her… More than anything, he loved her….
"Violet, I love you," the words flew out of him before he could think, pure impulse taking over.
Oh my god... He looked to her immediately, panic-stricken, but she didn't seem the least bit scandalized.
"And I love you," she said, bemused. "You're my brother."
He flinched, as if she'd struck him, and his wounded expression sent her spiraling into regret.
I've hurt him… She'd never felt quite so alone, so entirely at a loss. She only knew that, somehow, she had to convince him to stay. "Klaus, please, don't go. Sunny needs you… I need you, too."
Without warning, he rushed at her, catching her mouth with his. She was intoxicating- sweeter than any feeling his mind could conjure- and he poured all that he had into the kiss, all of his love and hunger and pain.
Her eyes went wide, body stiff with shock, but she didn't push him away, didn't recoil as he'd thought she would. He shut his eyes, kissed her until they were both dazed and breathless. And he was vaguely aware of her hands grasping at his shirt, holding on like he was the last true thing she'd ever see…
They were pressed together, the wall at her back, his forehead against hers. She could feel his breath, his hair under her fingers. And she kissed him then, faint as a brushstroke…
But he reeled back, appalled as he realized what had happened. "Vi, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," It seemed he couldn't say it enough.
She didn't speak, only touched the back of her hand to her lips. She could still feel him there.
"Do you see, now? Do you see why I have to go? I love you, Vi… I'm in love with you."
He said it like he was confessing to a crime, and she wanted to scream, to laugh and cry all at once.
He loves me… He loves me, he loves me, he loves me… The words reverberated, filling the dark places in her mind, wrapping around her, and she felt liberated suddenly, as if she'd stepped out of a shadow.
But his voice ripped into her thoughts, until only the frayed, jagged edges remained. " I can't help it, Vi. I don't want to love you. I don't want any of this."
It was too much, a violent tumult of emotion. She couldn't stifle it, couldn't face him anymore. And she ran away from the farmhouse, away from her brother, leaving him in the echo of her sobs and the sound of the screen door slamming shut.
