Disclaimer – I don't own AHS

I'M SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SO LONG I FEEL TERRIBLE!

Also, I'm going to be incorporating certain things about the newer episode, such as Travis dying and Constance being abusive. Okay . . . go.

. . .

"Vi, did Billie Dean actually give you a date for this . . . murder?" Tate asked. It wasn't a wedding, not to him anyway.

"Yeah," Violet replied, absent mindedly switching her lighter on and off. It was really starting to irritate Lily.

"Could you cut that out?" she asked her cousin.

Violet shook her head. "No . . ."

"When?" Tate asked.

"December 24th," Violet replied.

"Please cut it out!" Lily exclaimed.

"No!" Violet repeated.

"Fine, then I'm going to need to borrow it for a second." Lily grabbed the lighter from Violet's hand, lit a cigarette and placed it in her mouth. She handed the lighter back to its owner. "Proceed. I'm prepared now."

Violet rolled her eyes and went back to using up her lighter fluid. "Thank you, Tate. For letting me help you."

Really, it should be him thanking her, but Violet knew that Tate would do anything to stop her from marrying him. It wasn't that he didn't love her, he did really. It was just that he didn't want her to have to throw her life away for him.

"TATE LANGDON!" Constance screamed. She sounded angry. Really angry.

"Get down!" Tate instructed the girls. The three of them were sitting outside the house, in the place Violet liked to go to smoke. She and Lily jumped over the ledge and hid behind it, just as Constance came around the corner.

"Tate!"

"Hi, Mom," Tate said. "Here to yell at me some more?"

She slapped him. "You're lucky I don't tell Dr. Harmon everything that's going on. Travis is dead, Tate. And I know you did it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tate said. Constance slapped him again, and he fell back against the ledge. "Mom, stop it."

"Why do you kill people?" Constance screamed, hitting him again. Over and over.

It wasn't so much that it hurt Tate, because in reality, it didn't. Constance wasn't very strong, and if he wanted to Tate could make her stop hitting him. It was really more the childlike fear that still lived in him. The fear of Constance's hand . . . It might not hurt now, but that didn't change the fact that it used to.

"Mom, stop it!" He was biting back tears. Violet and Lily were right behind him, they could probably see everything from their position. If Constance only knew . . . "Mom, it wasn't me! I didn't kill your boy toy! It was one of the others, Mom I promise!"

"She's hitting him!" Lily hissed as quietly as she could into Violet's ear.

Violet was too angry to answer. Angry at Constance, for raising a hand to her child, and blaming him for a murder he didn't commit.

"Who did it then, Tate?" Constance screamed.

Tate did something he'd never had the courage to do as a child. He pushed her off of him. He couldn't hold it in anymore, hot tears spilled down his face. "You can't do that anymore!"

Constance fell back onto the pavement. She looked terrified. "Tate I-I . . ."

"It wasn't me," Tate repeated. "It was Hayden. Dr. Montgomery cleaned it up for her, and Larry hid the body. It wasn't me."

Constance rose to her feet, not making eye contact. When she spoke, she sounded nervous. "I-I'm sorry I blamed you, Tate. I'll . . . just go now."

She turned around and began walking back to her own home.

Tate punched the bricks. His knuckles started to bleed, but he didn't care. "Bitch!"

Violet jumped over the other side and held him against her. "How long has she been doing that to you?"

"A while," Lily replied for him. "Probably since he was a toddler. What was it, Tate like, three, four?"

"How do you know that?" Tate asked; his voice hoarse.

"When she hit you, even though it wasn't very hard, you were scared. Much like a child would be when being attacked by an adult. Despite being larger than Constance, you hesitated to push her away from you. Probably because you were used to not being able to. Am I right?"

"That's creepy," Violet told her. "That personality profiling thing you do."

Lily shrugged. "It's a gift."

"One of many," Tate added. "And, you're right. She's been doing that to us for as long as I can remember."

"Us?"

"Addie, Beau . . . me . . ."

"That sucks," Lily said.

Tate whipped his face on his sleeve and let go of Violet. "Not anymore. Next time she tries something . . ."

"I'll kick her ass," Violet said. "But if I'm feeling kind enough I'll let you help."

Tate grinned.

"Guys, lunch!" Vivian called from inside.

. . .

"It's weird," Lily said the next morning on the school bus. "It's like . . . you're getting married, which is supposed to symbolize your parents giving you away, yet they don't even know you're getting married."

"Shh!" Violet held a finger to her lips. "The last thing we need is people on the bus thinking I'm pregnant or something."

"Why would they think that?" Tate asked.

"What other reason do teenagers get married?"

"True . . ."

"Do you guys just want to skip again?" Lily asked. "I really don't feel like facing bullies today. I'm tired . . . and we have to talk to Billie Dean anyway . . ."

"Lily, you're always tired, and we're meeting Billie Dean after school tomorrow," Violet said. "Why don't you want to go to school?"

Lily looked down at her feet. "No reason."

She was sitting in the aisle across from Tate and Violet, by herself. Violet jumped across and pushed Lily up against the window. Tate leaned in closer. Together they both said, "talk."

Lily started playing with her hands. "You're dad's dismissing me half-way through second period. He says it's high time I started my 'therapy'."

"So?" Tate asked. "Dr. Harmon's a decent therapist . . ."

"But I don't like talking about my feelings!" Lily exclaimed. "Especially not to the guy who broke my aunt's heart . . ."

"Okay how about this," Violet said. "Make it fun. The entire time my dad is talking to you, think about how Tate totally fucked the shit out of his wife."

"Violet!" Tate exclaimed, turning bright red. He looked around to make sure no one had overheard.

"What is it, Hayden?" Violet replied, reminding him that it didn't matter. People didn't know his real name anyway.

It was kind of weird that Violet could talk about her boyfriend having sex with her mother without an issue. Tate didn't know whether to be happy or offended.

Lily laughed. "That'll definitely make it easier . . . thanks."

. . .

"So, Lily," Ben said. "Let's begin. So, why did you try and kill yourself?"

"I felt like it," Lily replied.

"Why did you feel that way?"

"Because I did."

"That's not an answer, Lily. Come on, I'm your Uncle. You don't have to keep secrets from me, we're family."

"Really?" Lily asked, leaning forward in her chair. "Because you've been keeping an awful lot of secret from us, haven't you Uncle Ben?"

"What do you mean?" Ben asked.

"You've been keeping so big secrets . . . Especially from Auntie Viv."

"What are you talking abou—"

"Let's just say I know all about the skeletons in your closet, or should I say—under your gazebo," Lily remarked proudly, leaning back again.

Ben's stomach erupted in butterflies. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar." Lily grabbed his tape recorder off the table and switched it off. "You buried Hayden's body under there, didn't you? You might not have killed her, but you didn't exactly report the crime either. Who actually did it? That's my question. Was it that dilapidated guy who's always creeping around outside? Yes I think it was . . . What's his name? Larry?"

"How did you—"

"And he loves Constance, doesn't he? Tate doesn't like him very much though, at least he doesn't seem to," Lily interrupted. "But you don't feel bad, do you? I can tell. Right now, you're worried. Worried that I'm going to tell someone. I won't, I promise. They already think I'm loopy, how do you think they're react to finding out I've claimed there's the dead body of someone who was reported as alive yesterday under my Uncle's gazebo that went up almost a month ago?"

Ben was in a state of shock.

"Violet and Tate know, too. But they won't tell anyone either," Lily added. "Moira and Constance watched you bury her . . . Well, they watched Larry burry her. Right on top of another body . . . that's harsh."

"What do you mean another body?" Ben asked, snapping out of his shock.

Lily was amused. "Wow. You don't even know that much, do you? You're such an idiot . . . Will you take me back to school now?"

"Not until you tell me exactly what you know," Ben demanded. "Now."

Lily—who had started to get out of her chair—sat back down. "Fine. Everything I know about this house? Let's start with the Montgomery's. The original owners, that is. Charles Montgomery was a doctor, but they fell on hard times, so he started doing illegal and secret abortions, down in the basement of this house."

Ben cringed.

"Someone found out, and they were mad. So they kidnapped his son, Thaddeus, and chopped him up into little pieces," Lily continued. "When Charles and his wife, Nora, found out, they were devastated. Charles tried to stich Thaddeus back together, but it ended badly. Some people believe the spirit of their son still haunt these halls. Nora was mad at Charles, so she killed him. Then she killed herself. The first murder/suicide of this house. That was in the twenties. Then, in the forties, a dentist lived here. Ever hear of the Black Dahlia? A lot of people think she was killed here. I'm one of them. Twenty years later, in the sixties . . . Well you already know all about the nurses that lived here. Those idiot Four Manson guys tried to recreate it with your wife and daughter. Next came the seventies, when two twin boys were found dead in the basement of this place. In the eighties, your friend Larry lived here. He was cheating on his wife, and she found out. At least, that's how the story goes. The next day, there was a fire reported at this address, the wife and two daughters were found dead. The police called it an accident; I call it the second case of murder/suicide in this house. The nineties were just as cruel. The guy behind the Westfield High Massacre lived here, and guess where the S.W.A.T. team shot him down?"

Ben didn't say anything, so Lily answered for him. "Your daughter's room."

"You're lying," Ben said certainly when he found his voice.

"Oh but the sad part is, I'm not," Lily promised. "Google it. You'll see that I'm right."

"There was never a massacre at your school," Ben pointed out.

"Yes there was," Lily said carefully. She didn't want to mention Tate's name. Although, Ben Harmon was so close minded when it came to the super natural, he'd probably write the name similarity off as a coincidence and never think of it again. Still . . . you can never be too careful. "Some kid showed up to school with some guns back in '94. Fifteen people died, and a few others were injured. Like the school librarian, who's still there now. Now will you take me back to school?"

Ben nodded numbly. She was lying, he knew it. She had to be lying . . .

. . .

"I feel bad for Lily," Violet said as she and Tate sat down for lunch alone. "I mean, her parents made her move across the country alone for therapy. That sucks."

"Whenever you say therapy, all I can think of is that old SNL skit where it's like Jeopardy, and the guy says the rapists instead of therapists."

"Let's remember who the rapist is in this scenario," Violet told him.

He made a face. "Not funny."

"I thought it was pretty funny . . ."

. . .

Sorry this chapter was shorter than it should have been after making some of you guys wait for almost a week. Sorry! I feel really bad but time kinda just slipped away from me . . .