~a/n: yes, I'm returning to one of my favorite subjects, not to mention one of my favorite words, for a probably one-shot fic. I don't know when this takes place, but it's sometime.later. I would just like to tell Mrs. Niles Crane that I love her too.

U n d o n e

The pale, listless creature on the park bench had shadows of beauty underneath her careworn face. She was alone--her siblings were gone, missing, lost.

She looked like she wasn't doing too well herself.

She cast her eyes across the park to the black canal across the way. For a moment she considered walking across and into the canal, letting go of everything and descending into blackness.

No, a little part of her mind protested, there's still a chance to find them. They've only been gone a month, you can find them and save them.

That little part of her mind got quieter every day.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She was so comforted by that warm, strong hand that she barely cared who it was attached to.

"Did you miss me?" a familiar voice pierced the cold film around her mind and a man sat next to her on the bench.

She looked up at him. too tired to run or scream, Violet Bauldilare couldn't even get angry. "You have them, don't you?" she asked. The little part of her mind was awakening, growing, spreading throughout her mind, waking her up slowly. She was almost fully alive again.

"They're safe." Olaf glanced around the dark, dreary park. "You know my hook-handed associate is rather fond of Sunny, and you don't really have to worry about Esme hurting Klaus. She's gone."

"Gone? What happened?"

He huffed. "Jerome happened. But she'll be back, she always is."

"Ah. So when do I get my siblings back?"

"Well, you don't. I'm here to take you back with me. Come on, you'll be with the little ones, and the troupe and I can keep an eye on you all."

"You know something? I don't think I like you very much. It may just be your multiple attempts on our lives, how many times you made said attempts to aquire out fortune, the people you've killed, kidnapping, not to mention obsession and --"

"Kindly get to the point," Olaf said, his temper shortening as his one eyebrow arched.

"--anyway, I'm not prepared to run. I'm tired of running. I'm not scared, or angry, I'm just tired. I'm even starting to wonder if it's worth it to stay alive.

"Hmm. Nice philosophy," he said, nodding. "And it works, too. Come on, Violetta, let's get going--the troupe is going to think I've gone soft or something."

"Maybe you have." Violet said, smiling. Filling the void in her mind was, for some odd reason, comfort.