It had been three months since Beatrice had arrived into this world without any parents. She was in good company.
It had been three weeks since Violet had her last period… so not pregnant, and Klaus was bound and determined to keep her that way.
It would be three more days until Violet's next birthday...her 18th birthday.
This was the birthday they had survived Count Olaf for. If they weren't stuck on this deserted island in the middle of nowhere, if they were back under Mr. Poe's and Mulctuary Money Management's care, Violet would be receiving her inheritance. A fortune. What good had it ever done them? What good could it do now? All that surviving, and running, all for nothing, because Count Olaf was dead, forever stuck on this deserted island with them, buried under the sand and probably eaten up by crabs by now.
Violet was going to be old enough to inherit the Baudelaire fortune. She had always said, before the island of course, that when she got the money she would fly them somewhere far away and they would buy a house and fill it with books, and tools, and food, and enough beds for everyone. She said she would always take care of them all and they would always be safe. There was no chance of that now, was there? They were a million miles, or might as well have been, away from Mr. Poe and their inheritance, and they had Beatrice now. Kit had wanted them to take care of the baby. Mr. Poe would only take her away from the Baudelaire's and put her God knows where.
At this point, Klaus couldn't really even say he was disappointed about being on the island. It definitely had changed their plans, but was it really for the worse? They were safe right now. They had enough to eat. They had one another. If they couldn't leave, they had better learn how to stay.
It was silly, and Klaus knew it would sound even sillier if he were to say it out loud, but he was worried about Violet's birthday. She would be 18, an adult, legal, at least where they were from…and he would still only be 16, which a couple of months ago he'd considered an achievement. Violet was always outgrowing him. It had been this way their whole lives. He would finally feel like he was catching up to her, that they were the same, equals, but then she would have a birthday and they would be a whole two years apart again.
Violet hadn't said a word about her birthday. He wasn't sure if she remembered, but she must. It was such a milestone. It was something they all had counted on for years now. He had whispered about it with Sunny when they were out swimming together and Sunny had been delighted at the prospect of a birthday party, though he wasn't sure what all they could manage with their meager supplies.
Klaus already had her present ready and hoped it would somehow cheer her up. Not that she was sad exactly, but different, and upset with him. It was definitely his fault, he knew that, knew that he deserved her angry indifference. He had been acting different, different with her…after last time. Violet wasn't stupid. He hadn't kept her pacified with his excuses, but she was too good to question him about it or his motives. Because he had messed up, hadn't he? He had selfishly played chicken with Violet's life, and it could have ended much worse than it did. Klaus was lucky and he knew it.
Last time he and Violet had been together, he was more than sure that he didn't make it out in time, that he had ejaculated his sperm straight into her vagina. Not all of it, but it only took one, didn't it? He had been sick with worry. He hadn't said anything to Violet at the time, unwilling to worry her without needing to, but it remained first and foremost in his mind…blood, babies, pregnancy, incest, death. God, he knew most people gave birth without dying, but the sight of Kit was still so fresh in his mind, all he could do was keep picturing her all over again, except with Violet in her place. He understood logically, too, that Kit hadn't actually died from the childbirth, but the whole experience was so terrible, and the events so closely linked that Klaus had a hard time separating the facts when it came to his horror of the whole experience.
So when, one day a few weeks ago, Violet had laid curled up on the bed, crying softly, Klaus had found some relief from his awful fear. She had been in bed since supper, and that was so unlike her, that Klaus had come into the darkened room to check on her. He had sat on the bed next to her, brushing her hair back from her sweaty forehead, concerned that she was ill.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?" Klaus asked her tenderly.
"No. Yes, I guess," she answered, trying to control her voice, to make it steady, so she wouldn't worry her brother. "I just have cramps. They're always bad the first few days, and there's nothing here to help with the pain."
"Oh," he said, realization dawning on him. "Oh, okay." He continued to stroke her hair. "Would you like me to make you a hot water bottle?"
"Yeah, okay. That would be nice," said Violet, clearly grateful for the suggestion. "Thanks."
"Okay," Klaus said, standing up, retreating quickly. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He practically ran from the room, barely making it outside the house before he threw up. He should feel glad,…Violet wasn't pregnant… but he just felt sick, sick, sick. Even when there was nothing left in his stomach, he just heaved, down on his hands and knees in the dirty sand outside their door.
When he could stand again, he wandered down the trail to where the waves rippled to shore and the wind muffled the world around him. He fell into the sand on his bottom, pulling his knees tight to his chest, and began to cry. He had felt so guilty, so guilty, but, Violet had started her period. She was not pregnant. He hadn't killed her with his carelessness. Now, the relief felt just as bad as the guilt. It meant he had a decision to make. If he were an honorable man, it would mean keeping her safe at all cost, and it would cost them. In a few short weeks Klaus had come to realize that Violet was everything to him. She was sister, mother, friend, lover. It was twisted, he knew that, but they were all each other had in this very isolated world. It just couldn't be possible, could it, to keep up this relationship with Violet? He would have to give part of it up. The thought of it made him want to throw up again. Hadn't they already lost everything? The universe demanded sacrifice after sacrifice from them. Whenever they had found a shred of happiness or comfort in the past, the world had seen fit to take it from them straight away. It wasn't fair, was it, that they would be allowed to live, but never be truly happy?
Klaus felt good and sorry for himself when he finally returned up the path home. God, he hoped everyone would be asleep by now and he could sneak in unnoticed. No such luck. Violet was on the couch, feeding Beatrice before going to bed. She looked up immediately when he came in quietly through the door. He met her eyes for a second, then averted his face, hoping she didn't notice he'd been crying.
"Where have you been?" she asked quietly, and not meanly, but worried. "Nobody knew you had even left. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," he assured her. "Just needed some fresh air. I didn't mean to worry you." He walked quickly past her to the kitchen area to heat up some water. "I'm sorry about the water bottle, Violet. How are you feeling?"
"About the same," she answered.
"I'm making it now and you can have it for bed."
"Klaus…?" she began, but he cut her off.
"I'm fine. Looks like the baby's about done. Why don't you go ahead to bed and I'll bring this to you in a minute." Klaus had thought his tears were over, but scrubbed at his cheeks with his palms when stray ones fell. He watched Violet out of the corner of his eye as she lay the baby down in her cradle and began the rocking mechanism on it. He watched her as she headed for the bedroom, pause to look back at him, then go through the door without saying anything. Thank God.
When the water was close to boiling, he filled the hot water bottle and wrapped it in a towel, fortified himself with a deep breath and followed Violet into their room. She accepted the bottle when he handed it to her, placing it low on her abdomen, curling around it on her side. Klaus took off his glasses and his shirt that felt grimy after his bout of sick and climbed into bed, also on his side, but facing away from Violet.
He still felt so sorry for himself and so tired, and knowing that Violet was so near and so out of reach, that he began to feel his throat tighten and his chest burn as he tried to hold back tears that he thought were already spent.
"Klaus?" he felt a cool, gentle hand on his back. "What is it? What's happened?" Sometimes all it takes is receiving an ounce of sympathy from someone you love to cause the dam to break, not that his dam had been all that sturdy to begin with. He turned quickly to her, reaching out and pulling her body to his, clutching her tight around her back to cry into her shoulder.
She rubbed his back and ran her fingers through his hair. She shushed him like he was a small child, murmuring, "It's okay," over and over again into his temple. The feel of her soft body and the smell of her, milky and sweaty, not as clean as usual, but still her, didn't comfort him, but made him cry harder, knowing that she couldn't be his. He could feel the hot water bottle pressed between them, also warming his stomach, but he didn't care. He cried until, finally, exhaustion took him.
In the morning, he awoke still all tangled up with Violet. He came to consciousness quickly, opening his eyes to find Violet's already searching his. They were nose to nose, so close that Klaus didn't need his glasses on to see every freckle across the bridge of her nose. She kissed his lips softly, tentatively, an opening and a closing of her lips. Then again, and the feel of her kisses pulled hard at something in his chest. He yearned for more, deepening the kiss, tightening his hold on her which he had never relinquished during the night. Then he remembered. He had made a hard decision. He pulled away abruptly, extricating his limbs from their tangle of bodies, and stood up quickly.
Violet looked confused as she sat up, a furrow between her eyebrows, hurt clear on her face. He tried to smile, to reassure, but found he couldn't quite manage it. Beatrice began to cry from her cradle. "I'll get her," Klaus said, turned and fled the room.
So, how many times had he turned Violet away in some form or another in the last couple of weeks? More than he cared to admit. He had made excuses not to kiss her, found reasons to pull his hand away from hers, busied himself in chores and activities that never involved her, and found in the last few days his efforts had worked too well, that Violet never even spoke to him anymore. What was the point of her trying when he answered questions with as few syllables as possible or excused himself from conversations that involved him?
He knew he was hurting her, could tell by the hollow expression on her face, the furl of confusion on her forehead, the puffiness of her eyelids that said she had been crying. He wanted to comfort her, but that would involve letting his guard down, and if he let his guard down for just one minute, Klaus was sure he wouldn't be able to avoid the temptation to hold her, to kiss her, to…well, you know. It wasn't like he didn't feel the pain from it, also. He longed for her in the worst sort of way, had given his heart to her and surrendered his body to her, only to have to yank it back from her warm care.
But the worst was five nights ago, when Klaus woke from a nightmare, sweating and panicked, reaching out instinctively for Violet and realizing she wasn't there. He found her asleep on the couch, having left their tiny room sometime during the night, cause he was sure she had started out laying in bed next to him, though silent and impassive. He didn't disturb her, but as he lay back in bed he felt a solid ache of loneliness settle on his chest.
They had not slept apart hardly a day in probably the last four years. He had always blamed their circumstances, only having one bed, or one room, or one blanket, or one shack. Terrible circumstances. He had always thought that once they had their money, they would each have their own room with their own bed, but now he was starting to realize that maybe he had always been a little grateful to sleep next to Violet. It was a comfort at the end of the day to know they were still together, still had each other, even if everything else was falling apart. And now she didn't even feel comfortable enough to sleep beside him anymore and he had done it on purpose, driving her away, and he deserved this awful feeling of aloneness. He just didn't know what he could have done differently. God, he was miserable as he finally fell back asleep, plenty of room to stretch out, but curled into a tight ball in Violet's spot on the bed.
The next day Klaus, waking to his lonely bed, decided he needed to make up somehow with Violet. There was no need to make her so miserable. He would find a way to explain himself, maybe, and she would understand.
But Violet wasn't anywhere in the house. Sunny and Beatrice were gone, too. Panic surged through him. Had she left him for good? If he had felt saner he would have realized that the girls didn't really have anywhere else to go, or they would have all gone together weeks ago. He tore down the trail to the beach, and sliding on the sand dunes, spotted Violet, with Sunny running ahead of her, serpentining in and out of the ocean. Violet was pushing Beatrice in… was that a stroller? Clever, clever Violet. She had made a wonderful little contraption for Beatrice using a basket, a piece of umbrella, and large enough wheels that could push through the sand easily.
He slowed as he neared them. Sunny spotted him first and ran to him, jumping into his arms. "Good morning, Sunshine," he greeted her. Violet was smiling as she watched her siblings embrace, but as soon as Klaus made eye contact with her, she looked away, smile cooling into an aloof expression, then continued on her way pushing Beatrice ahead of her.
"Good morning, Violet," he tried. She ignored him. "Hey," he said, jogging to catch up with her, Sunny still in his arms, "can we talk?"
Violet scoffed, "Oh, you would like to talk? Now, you would like to talk with me?" She didn't slow down or look at him, but waved her hand in an exaggerated manner. "That's funny, because for a moment there I wasn't even sure if I existed anymore. Or, maybe you were all talked out, because, you know, of all the other people to talk to on this island." She continued to rant. "Seems like you better go ahead back to whatever important business it is that keeps you away from us all day, because," and she finally looked at him, "I don't think I feel like talking right now."
"Violet, please?" Klaus called to her, but she waved him off.
"I think Violet is mad at you, Klaus." said Sunny, stating the obvious.
Throughout the rest of the day, and the next, Klaus tried his best to gain some better footing with Violet, but roles had changed. Now she was the one avoiding him, ignoring his attempts at conversation, letting him do chores that she wanted done and volunteer to help with the girls, but not appearing grateful like she used to… and still not sleeping in the bed with him. Was it only a few weeks ago that he had been allowed to kiss and touch Violet whenever he felt like it? He wanted her back, no, needed her back. Maybe not to kiss, not that he didn't want to, but because what would that lead to? That was a dangerous road, but… seriously, he would take anything she would give him, though at this point the chasm between them seemed too wide to cross.
The day of her 18th birthday dawned clear and sunny as usual. The family set about their usual chores, making breakfast, feeding the baby, cleaning, milking, inventing. Klaus had caught Violet early, before she sat down with the baby to feed her, pulling her into their room by the hand before she could protest.
"Please, Violet," he said to her quickly and quietly, "Please just let me apologize to you."
She stood ramrod straight with her arms crossed. She didn't give her permission but she didn't leave either.
"I am so sorry for the way I've treated you." Klaus began. "I know I hurt you…but you've got to understand…that it hurt me, too." She scoffed, something she was getting good at. "I started thinking about what we were doing together and what it could lead to, and I was scared. I don't want to lose you, Violet."
"You're not making any sense," she said, turning her body towards the door.
"Wait," he said, "I know. I'm trying." He looked at the floor, trying to organize his thoughts. "After the last time we were together…physically, I mean, I just couldn't get Kit out of my head. I kept thinking of how hard her labor was, and all of the blood, and her leaving poor Beatrice all alone without any parents. I didn't want that to happen to you. I don't want us to accidentally bring another child into this world."
"So you just ignore me?" she asked, exasperated.
"I didn't think I could handle being close to you, without taking things too far. I love you. I still want you. Being apart from you doesn't help with that at all. It only makes everybody miserable."
"You're damn right," she exclaimed righteously. "You made me promise…" and her voice broke and she paused, steadying herself. "You made me promise that I would never leave you again, but you left me. You. Left. Me! And I don't know what to do with that."
"Please, try to understand, Violet. I only meant to keep you safe from me. I didn't want to hurt you!" Klaus pleaded. "I'm so sorry."
"But you did hurt me. How were you keeping me safe? Safe from what?" she said, still not quite understanding.
"I thought… I mean, you could've gotten pregnant. I was sick with worry about it, and when you had your period, I… I just thought maybe it would be a good idea to…"
"To completely cut me out of your life?" Violet finished hostilely. "You're an idiot," she turned again to head for the door, but Klaus caught her arm.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"Klaus, although I can somewhat appreciate the sentiment that you didn't want to get me pregnant, frankly I am a little insulted. I am in charge of my own body." She gestured to herself. "I know what I'm doing…and you would have known, too, if you had just talked to me about your fears, instead of making executive decisions to ruin our relationship. Why couldn't you have trusted me? Have I ever steered us into danger? Have I given you a reason to doubt me?"
Klaus stood silent, his mouth open to say…what? It didn't matter. She was already through the door. But wait, here she was coming back already, with a book in her hands. Their parents had a small library, actually, one whole wall was filled with books, and the Baudelaire's had stored the books from Kit's raft, the drier ones, at least, in some of the extra tents. Violet shoved the book hard into his chest and he just caught it before it fell to the floor. 'Conception and Birth' by Jane Hewitt, it read on the cover. Violet was out the door again, so he sat on the edge of the bed and let the book fall open on his lap. He read the pages that Violet had dog-eared, about different, natural ways of birth control, or the opposite, of knowing when was optimal timing for conception. The information made sense. Maybe her extra year of life had made Violet that much smarter than him and he really was just an immature child?
Violet was right. He really was an idiot.