Patience's corresponding deadly sin is wrath. Wrath often reveals itself in the wish to seek vengeance.
The very bones of the house had twisted easily to her will, the steady tempo of her heartbeat entreating the pipes to push through the wallpaper to coil and form binds around the wrists and ankles of her adopted Father, who was now splayed up in the entry.
Pogo was in the living room, mounted on the walls. She could still distantly hear the pit pitter patter of his blood dripping on the rug below, even though his pulse had spluttered to a stop long enough ago that his body was now growing cold.
Grace was designed to withstand her; she had proved slightly more difficult. Throwing her across the room had only temporarily stunned her. In the end, she had melted down her legs leaving her immobile – her head tilting in curiosity as she assessed her mangled form. Thankfully the first attack had rendered her mute. The White Violin couldn't stand the pitiful sounds she might have attempted to produce otherwise.
"Number Seven." Reginald roared at her, attempting to tap into that deeply instilled fear he had put within her decades ago. Unfortunately, for everyone involved, it didn't work on her anymore. Her blank eyes surveyed him coldly, scanning his body like a time hardened butcher choosing where to first slice into his latest delivery of meat.
"Number Seven, you will stop this at once." He continued fruitlessly, observing her carefully. There was no flicker of concern behind his eyes for his two dispatched servants, only an increasingly visible fear that his caged monster was finally loose.
She shushed him, gently. Like a mother soothing a wailing baby.
Reginald tried tugging his wrists free. She didn't know what he expected to gain from the attempt – he didn't have Luther's strength, there was no way he could free himself from metal bonds.
A glimmer of hope came into his eyes as the front door creaked behind her.
"Vanya." Luther entreated after a beat. "What have you done?"
"Don't just stand there, boy." Reginald cried. "Attack her."
The air was disturbed where Luther shook his head. "We can fix this. Okay. Vanya. We can, you just need to..."
The White Violin never made the same mistakes twice and, rather than listen to his lies a second time, she decided to end him immediately with a clean twist of the neck.
A sickening crunch was followed by an even more horrific sound: Allison's anguished scream as she watched Number One crumple down like a disconnected marionette.
She flinched at the sound, but not from remorse or sympathy. Her voice was recognised as one of the most deadly weapons the family possessed, one which could not be tolerated – not if she were to finally have her revenge.
Diego's tightening grip on the handle of his blade came from her left, and she used his ineffective attempt at ambush to her advantage. As his arm rose to throw, she swung it out – Number Two powerless to regain control of his limb against the force of her power – and ploughed the blade against the smooth skin of her only sister's throat.
A horrified cry nearly eclipsed a bloodied gurgle, as Diego dropped his weapon in favour of stemming the fountain of blood spewing from Allison's neck. The White Violin didn't bother lingering on her fight for life; so long as the vocal cords were destroyed it hardly mattered whether she lived or died. She was no longer a threat to her.
As she tried to return her attention to Reginald, she felt spindly arms encircle her waist, a mound of untamed curls shoving themselves into her face.
"Vanya. It's okay. It's okay, just come back to us."
Klaus slammed back into a door, hard enough to wrench him of his breath and knock him out cold, but his bones remained intact and his heart continued to beat strongly.
Ben tried in vain to make the eldritch attack and restrain her but for once they refused the freedom they were being granted by their host. Unlike the rest of the Academy, the eldritch had always been smart enough to recognise her power and accepted they stood no chance against her.
Still, hearing Ben squirm against them raised the possibility he could eventually force their hand. Best to take no chances.
He was the next to be cast aside.
"Five!" Diego yelled from beside Allison. "Do something!"
The White Violin had never cared for his voice. It was the voice that had constantly ridiculed Number Seven; while she had remained caged inside unable to right that wrong. He would never allow her anything. So why show him mercy? He would only get in the way.
Frowning she honed in on his pounding heart and stopped it. A crumple told her she was successful in ridding herself of another obstacle.
"Where were we?" She asked Reginald.
"Number Five. Now is not the time for frivolous sentimentality." Reginald screeched. She didn't care for his tone.
"Kill her!"
Turning, she watched Seven's favourite stood torn in the doorway. His fists were clenched, body geared to attack but something held him back.
What was it Reginald had said? Something about sentimentality.
Distantly a voice pleaded for Five but, since that voice rarely listened to her, she saw no gain in heeding her.
A tear looked ready to escape the boy's eye as she rose her arm ready to strike yet another obstacle down, when suddenly a feeling the White Violin didn't care for started to bubble up.
She resisted it, turning away from the boy who seemed to prompt the repulsive emotion, and returned to Reginald ready to strike him down.
There were so many ways, so many things she wanted to do. All the different methods she could utilise to draw blood – it was an almost overwhelming choice. But she sensed there wasn't enough time, not enough time to do everything she wanted to do before that annoying...
"Vanya!" The boy eventually managed, choking out the words. "Seven – please. Stop. Just stop and we can go."
She gritted her teeth. "I want him dead! After what he's done to me, I deserve his head."
"I'll give it to you." He pleaded. "Just come back to me and I'll kill him for you."
"Number Five!"
"Shut up!" Five yelled at Reginald. "Seven! Come back! I can fix this and we can start over again."
"No." The White Violin moaned. "I don't want to!"
She lifted her hand, pushing together her thumb and middle finger, ready to snap them together and use the sound to tear her Father's flesh from his bones.
Five pleaded to her: "Seven!"
The click of fingers seemed to reverberate around the room. It destroyed everything.
Gasping, Vanya threw back the sheets and bolted so quickly from her bed, any observer would think it had transfigured into a wild beast ready to eat her alive if she remained on it for another second.
Running for the mirror she was shamed to see her eyes were glowing brightly enough to illuminate the space before her. Thankfully she wasn't so far gone that her skin was similarly transformed, but the growing prickling from her subconscious worried her that it wouldn't take much to provoke her past the point of no return.
Glancing at the clock she saw it was the middle of the night, but the invitation stood no matter what time of day it was and she knew if there was ever a moment she needed to take it it was now.
Heart thumping in her chest, Vanya forced herself to keep her eyes wide open despite the urge to hide their ugliness from the world. She was scared if she shut them again she'd see the carnage behind her eyes. It was bad enough she could still hear the screams echoing in her ears.
She still took care to keep her eyes downcast and half hidden by her fringe for fear of the cameras still installed in the hallways. There wasn't much she could do about Reginald seeing her creeping into Five's room, but the punishment for that would come nowhere near what she could expect if he found out she was utilising her powers.
As she walked, she hugged her arms around herself, body shaking so strongly from the leftover adrenaline she felt as though she were about to fall apart.
Pushing open Five's door, she moved over to his bed.
"Five," Vanya called out as she approached, waiting for some sign that he had heard her. While she was scared out of her wits, she wasn't so far gone that she would do something so stupid as to climb into a trained assassins bed without first giving him some warning. "Five. It's me."
"Seven?" He asked groggily.
"Five, I need help."
He quickly opened his eyes, blindly reaching out to switch on his bedside lamp. "What, what is it?"
All she needed to do was lift her head and look at him fully.
"Oh, crap." Five muttered, getting up and walking over to her. "What do you need?"
"I don't know."
"Okay." He said, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "Shit, Vanya. You're freezing. Get in the bed."
"No." Vanya insisted, her voice wobbling almost as strongly as her legs. "I don't want to lay back down. I might fall asleep again."
With a sigh, Five coaxed her to sit in his desk chair instead and draped a spare blanket over her shoulders.
"You're not even wearing any socks." He noted, bending down to feel the blocks of ice masquerading as her feet. "Here, you can borrow a pair of mine."
He rummaged in a drawer before producing a balled up pair which he shoved under her nose. When she made no move to take them, not yet trusting her trembling hands, he let out another sigh and put them on for her.
"There. That feels better right?"
Vanya managed a shrug before scooting over on the chair. It left only half a seat but Five still took it, throwing an arm over her shoulders.
As he leaned into her, he kindly commented: "You smell really sweaty, Ven."
"I know." She huffed. The hair at the nape of her neck was practically drenched in it.
"Are you going to tell me what the nightmare was about?"
She opened her mouth but hesitated. What would he think of her?
"It might help?"
Looking up at him she asked: "Are they still white?"
"Yeah." He told her gently, pulling the blanket more securely around her. "You know you'd come in good use the next time we have a power cut. We could use you as a torch."
"Thanks." She said wryly, casting her eyes down before confessing: "I had a pretty violent dream."
Five stayed silent, prompting her to continue. She didn't really want to go into detail, hoping that like most dreams it would become hazier as the day raced away from the night, although she didn't think there was much realism in the hope with a dream as vivid as this one had been.
"Total casualty count. I killed Pogo, Luther, Diego and possibly Allison. Maimed Grace and knocked out Klaus and Ben. And I was about to kill Reginald."
Nodding, Five had no words of criticism. "The last time I dreamt about killing Dad I scooped out his eyeballs with a melon baller and then slit his throat with a shard of glass from his monocle – which I particularly enjoyed smashing over his head. What were you going to do?"
Vanya sharply turned her head so she could look at him.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you think you were the only person with psychotic delusions of murdering our psychotic Father?" He said unapologetically. "If it wouldn't risk disturbing the timeline, I'd consider a shallow grave for him and I know several siblings who would help me dig it."
"You don't consider killing us though. Or Pogo." Vanya accused.
"Is this turning into a contest, because you know I have to win if it is." Five grinned. "What did you do to me in this dream?"
"I was going to kill you." She nearly screeched, bringing her voice down into a barely contained hiss.
"But?" He pressed.
"You asked me to stop."
Five nodded sagely. "See that's your subconscious telling you that you can trust me."
"When did you start going in for psychology?" She snorted, wiping at her eyes in frustration.
"I'll go in for anything if it helps me win an argument." He replied through his smile. "Are you ready to get back into bed yet, because my ass is getting numb sitting on this chair."
"Yeah, okay." Vanya conceded, already feeling bad for waking him. She prepared to stand but Five jumped them to the bed instead.
"Seriously, why can't you give me a warning before you do that?" She groaned, shivering deeply from the sensation of the jump.
"You won't always get a warning, best get used to it." He dismissed, settling back on the pillows. "Your eyes are brown again by the way."
"Oh." Vanya breathed with relief. "Thanks."
Five pulled her back, confessing into her hair: "I don't know how well training will go if you're always going to be this afraid of your powers, Vanya."
"I can't help it, Five. It doesn't help that I know I've ended the world twice with them. It makes it hard to be optimistic, you know."
"I told you, everything will be fine this time. Three times lucky, right?" He encouraged, brushing the bangs away from her warm forehead. "For a start I'm here. We all have foreknowledge. We will stay out of the Commission's way. And as soon as Harold Jenkins gets out of jail I will flay him alive."
"Or we could just move to the other side of the planet?" Vanya counter-suggested, squirming at the violent image so soon after her nightmare.
"No. I'm killing him. You did it last time, it's my turn next. If we have to have another do-over, Allison will probably call it that time." Five sighed, leaning forward to pull the discarded blanket at the foot of the bed over them.
"You don't have to do that for me." She said uncomfortably.
"I know – you never asked me to. I'm doing it because I want to."
"Why? You never even met him." Vanya asked curiously, turning onto her side so she could rest her head on Five's shoulder.
"I have always put a lot of effort into keeping you safe and then, after all those decades I spent trying to get back to save you all, I send you off almost the very minute I get back. The one time I stopped trying to keep you safe, you went and got hurt." Five confessed gruffly. "I didn't like that. Guilt never settles well with me. So he's dying."
"Unless you object?" He asked, the previously unconsidered notion abruptly occurring to him.
"No." She said carefully, not sure how she felt about so casually discussing her former boyfriend's death. Re-death, technically. "To be honest, it would probably be quite a relief. But won't that alarm the Commission?"
"That close to the day, it won't matter. They'll be descending on us, anyway." Five dismissed.
Fisting a hand in the shirt of his pyjamas, Vanya allowed herself to really think about Leonard (Harold) for the first time since they arrived back. She still didn't know whether to scold herself or cry.
"I genuinely thought I loved him." She acknowledged. "But now, I think I just wanted someone to care about me. I don't think it would have even mattered who that person was. What I wanted was...well, I wanted my family to care."
Her eyes tried to travel up to his face, an impossibility since she refused to lift her head up from its comfortable perch.
"Five?" Vanya said after a few minutes had passed.
"Yeah?"
"You're being uncharacteristically quiet." She prompted, her tongue stumbling over the long word after such an adrenaline filled night, prompting a soft chuckle from Five.
"I didn't lie when I caught you, Vanya. I wasn't trying to trick you or guilt you into telling me the truth." Five eventually said. "We all love you. I love you," he mumbled uncomfortably, "we're all just really shit at showing it."
"An emotionally stunted upbringing will do that to you." Vanya pointed out.
"Did your therapist tell you that?" Five drawled.
"You can mock all you want..." She tried to say, however a big yawn interrupted her to Five's relief.
"We'll save the mocking for the morning. In the meantime I wouldn't say no to some sleep."
"Okay. But..." She drew out.
"But?" He impelled, amused by her tone.
"I love you too." She managed, glad it was dark.
Five hugged her to his chest tighter yet remained silent.
"And I don't hold it against you. What happened that week – with you leaving and then conspiring with Klaus behind my back..."
"You heard. Fucking moron, I told him to be quiet." Five cursed below his breath.
"...and in no way is what happened with Leonard your fault. I had Allison there practically the whole time telling me something was wrong with him. I didn't listen. It wouldn't have been any different with you."
"We both know it would have been." Five said after a beat.
"Yeah." She agreed. "It's still not your fault though. Don't think that."
"It's hard to censure your own thoughts."
"I think our conversation about how to best off Dad sort of proved that one already." Vanya intoned.
"We can kill him eventually if it would help." Five conceded, scrubbing his forehead with his hand as if trying to erase the frown lines that had suddenly appeared there. "It would be a logistical nightmare, but I guess we could do it on our way out. Don't kill the rest of us though – that would be a real dick move."
Despite the lightness in which they were said, Vanya was sobered by his words. The dream had only served to remind her how close she always was to losing control, and that it was the people who were closest to her who would be the first to feel the consequences.
"Don't joke about that Five."
With a huff, he apologised.
"What do you think prompted tonight's dream? Did Dad say something to you yesterday?"
"Nothing too terrible." She mused. The only time Reginald had spoken to her was when he told her to get out of Number Three's way when they found themselves at an impasse in the corridor.
"Do you have dreams like this a lot?"
Nodding felt easier then saying yes.
"So what made tonight's different? You don't usually come to find me. Even though I've told you to." Five accused.
"This one felt so real. Everything about it – it was almost tactile. I could hear everything, blood dripping, Diego trying to sneak up on me, the sound of the pipes behind the walls. I don't know why, but it feels more like a memory to me now than a dream. And I've never had a dream make my eyes turn white before."
"How did you feel while you were dreaming?" Five asked curiously.
"Like there was a sense of urgency. That I had to act quickly before someone else could stop me."
"Me?"
"No." Vanya said, feeling certain of that. "When you asked me to stop, there was this feeling, here," she mentioned, tapping a hand to her chest, "like something was fighting me. But it wasn't you. I felt annoyed by it. She felt annoyed by it."
"You dreamt that you were the White Violin?" Five said, concern overtaking his intrigue.
"I know." She sighed, knowing how Five felt about her considering it as a separate entity. "But I wasn't in control – she was. In the dream," Vanya clarified, "and I think the thing she was fighting was me."
"Vanya," Five groaned, "your powers aren't separate from you."
"Ben's are." She pointed out.
"I don't feel like me when I go like that." Vanya worried. "At the Icarus I almost felt like I was outside my body watching rather than being in control. I don't know if that's me projecting to help with the guilt..."
"Ugh, more psycho babble." Five moaned, his hand dropping back onto the covers.
She ignored him, "...or if it really is separate. I mean, Dad suppressed my powers for a long time, Five. What if that had a side effect, what if deep down those powers kept manifesting?"
"But you use that power." Five pointed out. "When we train together, that's all you. You are in control."
"I know. I know," she whined, "but how I access those powers is so different. I think about it, I try to control it. When I was – that day – it was all feeling. And everything was so easy! I get exhausted levitating a few books in circles, that day I destroyed a building, barely thinking about it, and I walked away feeling like I had more power than I started with. When I was locked up..."
Five pushed her gently off his chest so he could turn onto his side to look at her. "What happened when you were locked up? What aren't you telling me?"
"You'll think I'm nuts." Vanya breathed.
"I've been nuts before, I won't judge." Five reassured. With a squeeze of her arms he implored her to tell him the truth. "What aren't you telling me, Seven?"
"I saw me. But child me – Number Seven. She was in the reflection of the glass window and, and she started talking to me. Guiding me in how to use my power – powers I didn't even remember having. She encouraged me to use my heartbeat, telling me it was the only viable sound in the room I could use, and once I escaped she stayed with me. Telling me what I needed to do. She was so angry, all she wanted was revenge. There was no hint of compassion, or fear, or regret. She scared me, but I couldn't stop listening to her."
Groaning, Vanya flopped her head on Five's pillow. "I think I'm nuts just saying that."
Five seemed to struggle for words.
"What?" She prompted.
"Maybe now that Ben knows, it would be useful to talk to him about his powers. Ben has always been rather...tight-lipped about how they work. But if you really think your powers can manifest separately, then perhaps talking to Ben – whose powers we know for a fact has a consciousness of its own – will give you a baseline of sorts. If your experiences align, then perhaps the White Violin really is a separate entity. If not, then as you say, maybe it's all just a coping mechanism. Or some other psycho babble that Allison will claim to completely understand because she read an article about it, once, in Cosmo or some other garbage magazine."
Vanya looked at him curiously. "How do you know about Cosmo? There were no dentist offices left in the apocalypse." She gasped when he shifted uncomfortably beside her. "Have you read Cosmo?"
"I might have glanced at one in the future," he said grumpily, "before using it as kindling."
"Oh it's all coming out now." She breathed. "Next you're going to tell me you only read Playboy for the articles."
"You know how, earlier, I said I like this new confident you?" He asked rhetorically. "Well I take it all back."
"Uh-uh, you told me before – you love me. There are no take backs in this family. Do-over's yes, but no take backs." Vanya said, knowing she was pushing her luck.
"Please go to sleep or I'll start considering another do-over."
"Fine." She agreed, shuffling a little further down the bed to settle more comfortably.
"Are you going to sleep better?" Five asked, speaking more softly than he did before.
"Only one way to find out I guess."
"Do you have nightmares every night?"
Vanya sighed, shutting her eyes. "Nearly every night."
"Since the apocalypse, or before then?"
"I had them a lot before, but not every night."
"What did you have nightmares about?"
She idly wondered if Five's uncanny ability to ask questions she never wanted to answer was an as yet undiscovered power of his.
For years she had wanted to talk about the horrible things she dreamt about, but when the opportunity arose years later in her first therapy appointment she had seized up and couldn't speak a word of it. They'd nearly always centred on abandonment, if didn't take much to figure that out. But Vanya had long been ashamed by how petty and angry her dreams were – how much she longed to outshine her siblings, and to gain some type of comeuppance for the multitude of times her family had shunned, humiliated and belittled her. A lot of her anger and fear was directed at their Father, but her siblings shared in a fair amount of vengeful scenarios – even Five had been the subject of her wrath on occasion, when the days had become particularly lonely and it became hard to reason that he wasn't with her because he couldn't be. She felt for sure if she ever spoke of their content she would receive nothing but scorn in return.
"Is it always the same?" Five tried instead, giving up on patiently waiting for her to find the right words.
"No, not always. Lately though...they scare me." She confessed after a beat. "They're just so, so, well...brutal. Someone always gets hurt."
"You said you have nightmares nearly every night." He pointed out. "When don't you? Is there something we can do to stop them?"
"I don't have them when you or Ben are around." Vanya admitted nervously, worried that her confession would make them feel they had to spend even more time with her than they already did. "But you two can't always be here, Reginald..."
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why don't you have nightmares then?"
"You were right before, we should get some sleep?" Vanya attempted futilely. She almost felt laughing at herself – Five never gave up topics easily, no matter how much he enjoyed his sleep.
She reached a hand back to switch off Five's lamp, but he batted her arm down. Feeling stubborn she flipped it off with her mind, plunging them into a safe darkness.
"I guess because when you two are around, I finally feel like I can relax. And that nothing will get me in the middle of the night."
"What do you think will get you?" Five scoffed. "You're not exactly helpless, Vanya."
"Aren't I?" She bit back. "One pill and I am helpless. And Reginald, or Pogo, or Grace – they could give me them without me knowing. What if he does tests on us in the middle of the night again, or catches us training, or I mess up and give myself away? He could ground them up and put them in my food, or maybe he has a liquid version he could inject me with and I would never know. Maybe he will tell Allison to rumour me again. Or maybe she will do it on her own – I couldn't even blame her if she did for what I've done."
Vanya was relieved when Five cut her off, feeling the back of her neck prickle with the paranoia she seemed to live with every day.
"What could Ben and I do then?" Five asked, trying to test the poor logic of her worries so she could see their improbability. "If any of those happened, what do you think we'd be able to do that you couldn't do yourself? We're just as susceptible."
"I wouldn't be alone when it did. Someone else would be there with me. I've always been alone, Five. Being alone scares me." She told his outline, glad that she couldn't see the details of his face very well amongst the shadows. An expression of disappointment or, worse, dismissal, was not something she wanted to see from him.
He pulled her close again, wanting to reassure her, before he promised: "We'll work something out. It's easy for me to sneak around anyway, especially with the cameras gone."
"You can't always be here, Five."
"I promised you, I won't leave you." He insisted. "You made a good point about the pills though. I think we should start adding combat training into our sessions. It won't be easy with the limited amount of space that we have, but I can show you a few moves the Commission taught me which Reginald won't know. Enough for you to get away if he, or anyone else," Five added darkly, "tried to do anything to you and you didn't have your powers to rely on. Or me around."
She nodded in agreement.
"There's always a solution, Vanya. We'll find one together. I promise."
I apologise for making you wait 2 weeks for the final update but I was sick, and this last chapter is over 4,800 words so at least I didn't skimp out ':D With this update my Then and Now series is now over 100,000 words which scares me a little because that's even longer than my book! And I only started writing this series in March! Does this mean if I applied half as much commitment to writing original fiction I could be producing a book every three months? No, no original fiction is not nearly as much fun as TUA fanfics that would never happen XD
Well the whirlwind (and the longest story in the series, to never be overtaken by another - I'm putting my foot down on that) is now over. I have to say thank you to everyone who has left such kind reviews! Thank you all for being such engaging readers, you really do inspire me to keep writing. The next story in the series is planned though you should know I am doing another Camp NaNoWriMo next month (starting tomorrow). However I've only set a 20,000 word target so I will most definitely have time to start writing the next installation which will be another from Five's POV. It's also going to be mainly Five and Vanya, so I know a lot of you have requests for interactions with Ben but that will have to go on hold until the story after.
I will stop writing this short novel of notes now. As always let me know what you thought, if you liked the switch in the story format by reversing Vanya's sin/virtue for now/then, and if you think my using an Italian title for the next story would come across as too pretentious. Have a good week all 3