Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story.

ALSO; I have decided to NOT make this the last chapter and possibly continue the story to AFTER the wedding. I've come up with some new ideas that I think will work.

. . .

"Tonight?" Tate repeated. "As in, right now?"

Constance nodded grimly. "I'm afraid so."

"Violet." Tate turned to face her. "Vi, we don't have to do this tonight. We can wait."

"Four weeks, Tate?" Violet asked. "There's no way. My parents will be long gone by then . . . it has to be tonight. Constance, how soon can Billie Dean be here?"

"She can be here right now."

Lily, Tate, and Violet did a one-eighty to face the doorway. Standing there, hair perfectly styled, make up perfectly done, eye's wide open and dress without a crease was the infamous Craigslist Medium; Billie Dean.

"You're wouldn't believe the traffic out there," she said, walking over to the table. Her heels clicked against the floor. Chk, chk, chk . . .

"We need to do the wedding tonight," Violet told her, grabbing Constance's pack of cigarettes off the table and taking one out. "Tell us what we need to do."

Billie chuckled. "It's quite a list, dear. But there is one thing you won't have to worry about, and that's a priest. Turns out a Medium can do the ceremony . . . And I'd be glad to help."

"Why?" Lily asked her suspiciously.

"Out of the kindness of my heart," Billie replied, placing a hand on her right breast. If she had a heart, that's where it'd be, Lily thought.

"No," Lily told her, standing so she wouldn't feel inferior to Billie—who was also still standing. "I know how you are, Billie. Your father was probably a doctor or something . . . pretty well off family situation. You never had to pay for silly things like student loans or rent. You've always had everything in life handed to you. In a way, you're spoiled. You like it when people owe you favors because that's how you keep them in your control. You never to anything out of the 'kindness of your heart', you do things with an ulterior motive in mind. So 'fess up now before it's too late."

Billie's facial expression was one of surprise. Lily's profiling skills didn't fail her this time (not that they ever had). She had nailed Billie Dean right on the head, and they both knew it.

"Fine," Billie admitted. "The network that wanted to do a pilot episode with me bailed. They said I wasn't . . . exciting enough as a medium. So, I figure I give them this story and they'll have no choice but to take me back, right?"

"How do you know they'd believe you?" Violet asked.

"Well of course I'd video tape it or something! I'm not dull, girl. Perhaps I'd even invite one of them . . ."

"Guests?" Tate asked. "You want there to be guests at the wedding?"

Billie nearly laughed. "Idiot boy . . . there have to be guests. It's one of the rules. Every ghost in that house must be accounted for, or else it won't work."

"Why do they all have to be there?"

"Because, the spirit of Thaddeus won't leave your body unless all of his victims are present. The psychic force won't be strong enough to fully draw him out, he'd just reenter you. And this time, you'll have Violet as part of you . . . meaning he'd enter her as well," she explained.

"What do you mean victims?" Violet asked. "Thaddeus—Infantata didn't kill all of them."

"Yes but he's the reason for the curse on the house that won't allow them to pass on. They're not victims of murder, but of something much worse; damnation. They can't leave because of him. All the anger towards him—even in the smallest degree—will weaken him. That's how spirits work; I can't very well explain it further."

"Wait . . . every single spirit?" Tate asked.

Billie Dean nodded. "All of them. It's the only way it'll work."

Tate looked up at his mother. She shook her head. "Tate, that's a bad idea."

"You heard what she said, we don't have a choice!" Tate shouted. He was suddenly angry, and Lily and Violet were the only ones who didn't know why.

"Tate . . ." Violet put her hand on his shoulder. He was shaking. "Tate, what's wrong?"

"Let's just say you haven't yet met all of the Langdons," he replied, his voice pretty much a growl. Then he was gone. Out of Constance's kitchen, just as easily as he had appeared on her doorstep. Without physical movement.

"Where did he go?" Violet asked.

Lily looked at Billie, who nodded. Lily sighed and shook her head. "I think I know."

"Where?" Violet repeated.

"Come on, Vi," Lily said. She grabbed her cousin's shoulder and pulled her out of her chair. Before leaving the room, Violet lit her cigarette and stuck it in her mouth.

Once they were outside, Lily led Violet down the street. Past the Murder House, past the bus stop . . . They kept going.

"Lily, where are you taking me?"

"Where Tate went."

"Where did Tate go?"

"You'll see . . ."

Lily continued to lead her cousin down the streets. It was hot, California weather out, and Violet couldn't help but wonder how Lily dressed in black every single day. She must be roasting . . .

Finally, they arrived at their destination. The graveyard.

"What the hell are we doing here?" Violet asked; a little frightened. Graveyards never creeped her out until very recently when she learned that ghosts were real and they could in fact hurt you.

"This is where Tate went," Lily told her hollowly.

"Why was a graveyard significant to him in life?"

"It wasn't," Lily replied. "That's another thing about ghosts. They can always find their way back to their graves . . . I'm not sure why . . .

Together, the two cousins entered the graveyard. They saw Tate standing over a head stone about twenty yards away.

"You go," Lily told Violet. "I'll wait here."

Violet nodded and walked over to her boyfriend, alone.

Rest in Peace

Tate Langdon

1978-1994

Brother

Son

Student

Seeing death as the end of life is like seeing the horizon as the end of the ocean

"David Searls said that," Tate muttered. "I think my mother thought it'd be funny . . ."

"No," Violet told him. "I think she meant it. You might be dead Tate, but your life is far from over."

"It's an eternity . . ." he mumbled. "And you can escape but you're actually choosing to stay. It's insane."

"Why did you come here?" Violet asked him.

"I died in '94 . . ." Tate said, not taking his eyes off his headstone. "It's 2011. I died seventeen years ago."

Violet nodded.

"After we die, there's no more blood pumping through our veins. All the blood is pulled down by gravity because it's just . . . useless. The cells in us die because there's no more oxygen . . . Except the skin cells. Those can still be living for a few days after the body died . . . Dead bodies become stiff, for like a day and half. Our own digestive systems start to devour our inner tissues because there's nothing to control them from stopping. It's very common that bugs will come. Flies maybe . . . they lay maggots in our dead skin, and when the maggots hatch they eat us. After a couple months, any uneaten skin turns black; cold and dead. Once there's not more fluid in the body beetles will eat it because the maggots can't anymore. Moths eat our hair . . . It's funny to think that the bugs we spend our lives squishing beneath our toes are the ones who eat our body's after we've died. It only takes about a year for nothing to be left but teeth and . . . bones."

Violet whipped the tears out of her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Think about it . . . under there all I am is a skeleton. Just bones' Vi . . . nothing more . . . I don't have a face or finger nails or even hair." Tate had started to cry to. "Bones freak me out, Violet . . ."

"I think they do that with anyone," Violet told him.

Tate shook his head. It was terrible to think about. He had seen his own reflection in the mirror countless times. He knew what he was supposed to look like . . . so why was it possible that the body that was once his now looked nothing like him? Or did he just look nothing like himself? Should he look decomposed as well?

He hadn't realized it, but as he thought these things he began to change. Violet watched as the skin disappeared off of him and all that was left was bones. Standing right there in front of her . . . bones.

She screamed.

Tate looked down at his hands. They weren't there. At least, those weren't his hands Moira looked different to men . . . was it possible that he was doing the same? Making himself look different?

"Violet . . . what's happening to me?" he asked, scared.

"I—I don't know!" she exclaimed. "Stop it, Tate! Cut it out!"

Tate fell to his knees, and as he did so he reappeared as himself. No more skeletal Tate . . . fully skinned and clothed Tate only. Violet fell next to him and buried her face in his chest. "Don't do that!"

He was still shaky, and he was still upset. But he managed a smile anyway. "Did I scare you?"

Violet hit his chest. "Of course you did, bastard!"

He chuckled a little and pulled himself to his feet. "I have no idea how I did that."

"Don't do it again," Violet commanded.

He nodded and offered her his hand. "Okay . . . Come on; I've got to show you something."

With his free hand, he motioned towards Lily to follow them. He began walking. Lily ran and caught up to them just as he stopped a few rows behind his own grave.

Rest in Peace

Mary Langdon

1980-1996

Sister

Daughter

Two paths diverged in a yellow wood and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

"Robert Frost," Lily said, reading the quote.

"Who is she?" Violet asked.

Tate sighed. "My sister. My other sister. She's in the house as well."

"What?" Violet asked. "Why haven't I seen her?"

"Because she's . . . very good at hiding." Tate sounded bitter. "She doesn't like to be seen, and sometimes I think it's better that way. She knows too much for her own good . . ."

"What's her handicap?" Lily asked. "Aunt Vivian told me that Constance said all her children were handicapped except you."

"She was a cripple," Tate said. "One of her legs didn't work right. My mother thought she was a mute . . . but it turns out she just didn't like talking that much. She would talk to me . . ."

"Why don't you want her at your wedding, then?" Lily asked.

"It's my fault she's dead," Tate replied simply. "I haven't seen her since she died . . . but it's my fault. I know it."

"What did you do?" Violet asked.

"I let Thaddeus see me with her. They couldn't get Addie . . . she always saw him coming. Besides, Addie was my older sister. They knew it'd hurt a lot worse if they went for the baby . . . so they did," Tate explained. "The details are fuzzy . . . But I think that's how they died. It all makes sense now . . . He was always jealous of my family."

"That's terrible!" Lily exclaimed.

Tate almost laughed, then added in a dark voice, "What worse is that he made me do it."