Disclaimer – I own not American Horror Story . . . yeah.

. . .

She lay down on her bed sideways, her head hanging over the end. Two years . . . it had been two years since she's seen either of her brothers. They were both so young . . . too young. But she still had Addie . . . Poor Addie, strong Addie.

"Girls it's time for dinner!" Constance screamed up the stairs.

She snorted. She hadn't gone down for a family meal since she was small enough to be carried. Except on Christmas . . . she always came down to eat on Christmas.

But today wasn't anything special. It was just your average Tuesday night, and she really didn't feel like wasting the energy it took to get downstairs.

She flipped over onto her stomach and sat up. Slowly and carefully, she rose to her feet. No bothering to grab her crutches, she limped over to her bedroom doorway and down the hall. She stopped outside of her parents' room. Dad and Moira . . .

She kept going until she stood under the attic stairs. Beau . . .

Again she kept going and going, until finally she reached the last door in the hall way, the door that hadn't been opened in two years.

Carefully, she reached out her hand and turned the knob. She took a deep breath, and limped into the room.

1996

The sheets on the bed and the carpet were still stained with his blood. Constance hadn't had the guts to clean out this room yet, and Mary didn't blame her. It was hard to be in here, especially after what she had seen.

Mary caught sight of something on her brother's bed; a book. It had a bird on the cover.

Tate loved birds . . . she thought. They were free . . .

She wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes before they could fall. Crying wasn't an option. It hadn't been for a while.

"I just want to know why . . ." she murmured to herself. Her voice cracked from lack of use. There were only three people she ever talked to in her life, and two of them were now dead.

"We can still talk, you know?"

Mary gasped as she turned towards the familiar voice. She started to lose her balance but caught herself.

Leaning in the doorway of his old bedroom was her late brother; Tate Langdon.

"N-no . . ." Mary muttered. "You're . . . you're . . ."

"Don't stutter, Mary," Tate told her. "Don't be afraid. It's just me."

"No," Mary told him. "You're dead. And you have been for a while."

"Am I?" Tate asked. "I don't feel very dead . . . in fact, I feel pretty alive at the moment. More alive than I have in a while."

"They ran tests!" Mary blurted. "They know you did drugs before . . . Why would you do that, Tate?"

"He told me to," Tate said. His voice sounded different. More normal than it had when he spoke before. Mary hadn't noticed it at first, but up until now his voice sounded funny. It was his voice but mixed with something . . . else.

Mary gulped. "He?"

Tate didn't say anything.

"He as in the . . ." she swallowed again. "The monster? The monster from the basement?"

"There's no monster in the basement," Tate said. His voice was back to the abnormal way it had started.

Mary understood what was happening. She didn't know why it had taken all these years, but she finally got it. It finally clicked in her brain. "He made you because he's in you. Tate that's what happened that day . . . When we were little kids, that's what happened. Addie was screaming because she understood but I was too young . . .—" Her eyes widened. "—He's in you now . . . isn't he?"

"I don't want to do this, Mary," Tate said in his normal voice.

"Do what?" she asked, but her voice flattened when she saw him raise his gun. "T-Tate?"

He was crying, trying to resist. But he couldn't. "I promise it won't hurt for long . . ."

He pulled the trigger, and Mary fell to the ground without as much as a scream. He looked over her body; she was still breathing, still holding on to the last few beats of her heart.

Infantata left him. He was alone in his own mind again.

And he had done something terrible.

He ran over to his sister and bent down next to her. "Mary!"

"W-why?" she choked out, blood pouring from her mouth. And then she was still. Never to breathe another breath of air again.

And it was his fault.

. . .

"I can't do this," Tate told the girls. "There's no way I can do this."

"Tate, it's simple," Lily told him. "Just go up to her and ask her to come."

Tate glared at her. "'Hey sis, long time no see. I know we haven't spoken much since I killed you but I was just wondering if you wanted to come to my wedding?' . . . Yeah, that'll go well."

They were standing in the attic with Beau. Up to this point, his brother had been silent. But now he spoke. "Mary . . . will forgive . . ."

His speech was broken up and childlike, so it was hard for Tate to snap back, but he did anyway. "Yeah, Beau, I get it! Mary will forgive me, alright?"

Beauregard gave Tate a sad look and shook his head before disappearing into the shadows of the attic.

"Way to go," Lily said sarcastically. "Now you've upset him."

"Thanks for the update . . ."

Violet patted his shoulder. "We can do this later."

"No, please . . . do it now."

"When did you get here?" Violet asked Hayden coldly.

"I live here to, you know? You're father's responsible for that . . ." Hayden replied.

"What do you want?" Lily asked.

Hayden walked in a circle around them and stopped in front of Tate. "I've got a bone to pick with you."

"About?" Tate asked, clueless and uncaring.

"Your wedding of course!" Hayden exclaimed. "But I need to talk to you . . . alone."

"Yeah like that's gonna—" Violet was interrupted by Lily's hand.

She grabbed hold of Violet's shoulders and steered her towards the stairs. "Come on Sexy Thing, we can wait down here. Let Tate talk . . ."

When they were gone, Hayden's false smile disappeared. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Tate?"

"I think Violet's making me get married and I'm going along with it because she threatened to kill herself anyway if I don't," Tate told her in a hollow voice.

"Yeah, that much I got," Hayden told him. "I'm talking about your sister. Mary or whatever. You're not actually going to invite her . . . are you?"

"I have to," Tate told her. "All the ghosts in the house have to be there . . . it's the rules."

"Well there's no way she's gonna agree to that . . . you killed her! The gays too . . . what was your plan for getting them there?" Hayden asked.

"Why do you care so much?" Tate snapped.

"Because, you're the baby daddy, right? I need your help . . . I want your child, Tate. I want it so badly . . . So I propose we make a deal. I get Mary and the gay guys to come to your wedding—along with anyone else who you think might give you trouble—and in exchange you give me your kid," Hayden said.

"'S not my anything," Tate promised her. "Vivian doesn't even know it was me. Besides . . . Violet's talking her into an abortion."

Hayden actually laughed. "Abortion? Are you kidding me? Do you think that would actually work?"

"I've got a plan . . . don't worry about it." It was true, Tate did have a plan. It was dark and sinister and he was 100% positive it would be effective. Lily and Violet had already agreed to help; now there was only the small matter of getting Nora's assistance . . . Tate had a feeling she'd agree though. It meant getting what she wanted after all.

"I lost my baby before it was born!" Hayden snapped pushing Tate. He stumbled backwards a little—Hayden was a lot stronger than she looked. "I want a baby, Tate!"

"Do you want a baby or do you want your baby?" Tate growled back at her. "Because there's a difference. If all you want is a baby, then I have no pity for you whatsoever. If you want your baby . . . then I'm sorry but I can't help you there. Shouldn't your baby have come back as a ghost with you anyway?"

Hayden looked at him for a few moments as if she couldn't believe her ears. Then her angry expression flattened. "So you stole my identity?"

Tate nodded. "No one will come looking for you now, right?"

Hayden nodded. "Thanks. But what will happen when you stop going to school?"

"I have Lily fix it on her laptop. She'd make you a guy again, and file a missing person's report. They'll never find you . . . and they won't look here because they already did."

Hayden nodded. "Good boy. The last thing I need is Ben going to prison for murdering me . . ."

Tate was confused. "Wouldn't you want Dr. Harmon to go to prison?"

Hayden shook her head and looked down. "I love Ben. I can't help but love him . . . I don't want to anymore but I still do and it's terrible!"

She was crying.

Tate ran his hands through his hair. Was this what Violet would feel like fifty years from now? When she didn't want to love Tate anymore but couldn't help it because she was dead?

. . .

Lily dragged Violet down into the basement.

"Why couldn't we just wait up there for Tate and Hayden?" Violet asked, obviously annoyed.

Her cousin didn't pay attention to her, but instead walked deeper into the basement. She turned a corner and stopped. Violet followed. She found Lily looked straight into the eyes of Nora Montgomery.

Violet realized that she had never actually met Nora. She held out her hand. "Hello Mrs. Montgomery, I'm Violet Harmon. My parents live here now."

"She's also Tate's fiancée," Lily added, probably to soften Nora up a little.

Nora—who was sitting on an old wooden chair—looked up at them. She stared at Violet's hand for a few minutes before Violet got the hint and dropped it. Nora dabbed at her eyes. "Tate's . . . Tate's getting married?"

Violet nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Down here, later tonight. We were wondering if you'd like to come."

Nora smiled a little. "A wedding! Oh I simply adore weddings . . . they're so happy and lively, I'd be honored to attend. Do you have a dress, child?"

Violet shook her head.

"Well then you'll have to borrow mine. There you go something old and something borrowed . . . now all you'll need is blue and new!" Nora was more excited than she had been in nearly a century. Weddings meant new lives together. As much as she envied happy married couples . . . with children . . . She was happy for Tate and this new Violet girl. The house would finally have a happy atmosphere to feed off of . . . it was just what everyone around here needed.

"Oh I couldn't—" Violet began.

"Well of course you could," Nora told her. "I'm letting you."

"Ma'am," Lily said carefully. "There's something you should know first. The part of Infant—Thaddeus. The part of Thaddeus that lives in Tate will have to leave Tate's body, well—his spirit body anyway. If Tate gets married that is . . ."

Nora thought it over a moment. "Thaddeus . . . my sweet baby boy. He shouldn't be in Tate; he should be in his own body. Yes . . . that's it. Thaddeus needs to leave Tate; it's the only way this will work."

"Can you do us a favor then?" Violet asked.

"Anything dear!" Nora exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She grabbed Violet's hand and stared at her with her big blue eyes. She was happy . . . something Nora Montgomery clearly hadn't been in a while.

"Could you invite the other spirits, please?" Violet asked. "We need them all to be present . . . it's part of the ceremony. Only, we don't really have enough time to speak with all of them so . . ."

"Oh yes, yes," Nora muttered, pushing past Violet and Lily. "Guests, of course guests. You can't have a wedding without guests. And decor . . . Yes show is everything. Maybe those nice young fellows who lived here before you would like to help. I know they've got a sore spot for Tate but they love to decorate . . . yes I'll ask them. And that Moira lady, she knows what she's doing . . . yes, yes that's good. That will work . . . Oh, a wedding!"

Nora scurried off, mumbling to herself about wedding plans.

"I think you just hired yourself a wedding planner," Lily said to her cousin.

Violet nodded. "Nora's not so bad . . ."

. . .

"Come on, Tate," Violet said. "We have to do this."

"We don't have to!" Tate exclaimed. "You said Nora was handling guests!"

"Tate, that's not why you need to do this; you need to do this because you need closure. And closure is what you shall get," Violet told him. She pushed him into her bedroom and shut the door behind them. Lily was standing guard in the hallway.

"Hurry it up my sweets . . . I don't feel like standing out here all day!" Lily barked.

Tate took a deep breath. "Okay . . . I think I'm ready."

Violet laughed and grabbed his hand. "No you're not. Now where is she?"

Instead of answer, Tate began to walk, still holding tightly to Violet's hand. He approached her closet door, and opened it all the way.

Standing there was a girl, about their age with black hair like Addie's that was somewhere between wavy and curly like Tate's. Another thing she shared with Tate was her eyes. They too were a deep brown. She held herself funny, as if it pained her. She slouched onto her right side. Tate mentioned something about one of her legs . . .

"Mary," Tate breathed out.

Mary didn't say anything. She only looked at Violet.

"She doesn't like to talk in front of people," Tate managed. His hand was clammy and he was shaking a little. "That's why everyone thought she was mute. Only her siblings have ever heard her voice."

"Well," Violet said, holding out her hand. "I'm going to be her sibling by the end of the night, correct?"

Mary looked at her funny.

"I'm Violet," she introduced herself. "Tate's fiancée. We're getting married tonight, and would be honored if you'd like to come."

Instead of answering she looked at Tate. "You're wrong. I talk to ghosts too. The only people I don't talk to now are the living ones."

Her voice cracked a little, like she hadn't spoken in a while. Which she probably hadn't . . .

"You never came to talk to me," Tate said.

"You never wanted me to," Mary countered. "I would have known. I know everything that goes on around here."

Before Violet could ask, Tate explained, "She likes to hide in the closets of the house. She sees everything but no one ever sees her. She's been doing this since we were kids."

That would work . . . The closets in the house—well most of them anyway—were the kind that had the door made up of blinds. Easy to see through from the inside . . .

"I watched my mother murder my own father . . . and the maid, from the closet in there room. And I watched Larry take Beau's life from the shadows of the attic. I watched my own brother get taken down by the S.W.A.T. team from where I'm standing right now . . . And I watched Addie get hit by a car from the window. My entire family has died right in front of me except for my mother . . . all I can wonder is where I'll be when that happens."

That was one of the longest phrases Tate had ever heard his sister say.

"I'm sorry," was all that came out of his mouth.

Mary nodded. "I know. And I forgive you. Like I said, I know everything that goes on around here."

Lily entered the room then. "Ben and Aunt Vivian just left; I figured I didn't need to guard the door anymore."

Mary looked at her. "You see the dead. That's just like being dead."

"I guess—"

"Two roads, Lily . . . I think you know what I mean."

Lily took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know."

"And you've chosen?"

Lily nodded. "Yeah, I have. I'm going to take the one less traveled by."

Mary chuckled and took a few steps forward, out of the closet. "You're not very bright."