A/N: And I'm on a roll. Thanks for all the love you show my stories! I want to make my stories sound melodious – I want to compose them of what I call beautiful sentences, where the string of those particular words evokes a response in my gut. And one of my reviews for Oh, How It Burns had one of those sentences – "when Tate just kept breaking things and himself." So I hope my lovely reviewer Captivation does not mind if I use a variation of this sentence here because I fell in love with it so.
And the song I listened to while writing this was "Hatefuck" by The Bravery. It's perfect for them.
This chapter is mainly flashback to provide the background leading up to the events you read in the first chapter.
As The World Falls Down
Before the world ended, she could hear him breaking himself in the basement.
She could feel it too.
Screams wretched from a mouth experiencing unfathomable pain. Thuds of hands connecting with concrete and stone. Flutters of a heart slowly dying.
She tried to block it out, but his cries echoed through her dreams and took up permanent residence at the edges of her waking mind. She couldn't escape them, especially when he would repeat the agonizing ritual daily.
Thwack, creak, boom, shatter.
Eventually the frequency of these horrible episodes decreased and she noticed that his moving away from physical pain only meant his embracing emotional pain instead.
Now the lack of noises made her even more frightened because she no longer could hear his pain, which made the roar of hers only more encompassing.
The end of the world did little to drown it out.
In the beginning, he just kept breaking things, including himself. He was a ghost possessed – either by his demons or the ones of the house. He had to destroy because then perhaps he would destroy his anguish in the process.
A lamp.
A skull.
A chair.
A vein.
They're all the same.
As time kept cruelly passing, he felt his need to physically harm himself temper. However, his pain was just as great and the mental battering he gave himself rivaled all the injuries he endured in the basement.
You lost her. You had the girl of your dreams and you lost her. You broke your promise. Your hurt her. She'll never forgive you. You're a monster.
It was a broken record, ruthlessly replaying his flaws and mistakes over and over in his head.
The end of the world did nothing to still it.
They didn't talk for a long time. But then they started talking again after an odd incident, which he now chalks up to fate.
Violet was walking past the living room window when suddenly a particularly strong gust of wind lifted a brick off the front yard and hurled it through the glass straight at her head. She barely had time to react when he materialized behind her and pushed her out of the way. He could feel the bones in his hand protesting as he deflected the brick in the opposite direction.
He rushed towards her, not caring that they weren't talking or that she hated him. He just saw the girl he loved looking scared on the floor and wanted to comfort her. He kneels down next to her, looking earnestly at her face, searching for any pain.
"Shit, Violet! Are you alright?"
She looks up at him and then around the room, confusion and suspicion reigning over her facial expression.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
She heaves herself back up. He pushes off the floor to stand behind her and he can tell in the set of her shoulders that she is all too aware of his presence.
"That was freaky."
"Yeah."
She starts walking out of the room, but she stops and turns slightly in his direction. Her eyes remain on the floor.
"Thanks."
And even though the world had already ended, for Tate and later for Violet, that word was a new beginning for them.
They began talking more. Nothing big, just little greetings in the hallways, but to him, it was enough for a while. Then they started playing cards and Scrabble again. Short hellos turned into conservations about music and birds. Violet made no mention of anything that had happened before and Tate took his cues from her. He didn't want to remind her about before if that meant they would go back to him breaking bones in the basement and her crying every night.
They were in her room watching the storms of debris rage outside. They hadn't spoken for a while, so when she does, her voice startles him out of his thoughts.
"I always thought that the storms were beautiful."
"Really?"
"Yeah. They are like swirling columns of memories. I see things, belongings, and I wonder whom they belonged to, what they might have meant."
He just looks at her and she scuffs the floor nervously.
"Sorry."
"What for?"
"I'm not exactly normal."
"No, you're not."
Now it's her turn to stare at him.
"You're extraordinary."
They had begun to spend more and more time together. She even laughed in his presence once at a joke he made. He had missed that sound so much and when he finally heard it again, tears sprang to his eyes. He took it as a sign that they were slowly, but surely, healing even as the world outside fell further to pieces.
She never thought that they would grow somewhat back together, much less over a rogue brick. When she looked back at him, peering into those dark orbs shining with such tenderness and concern, her breath was knocked away and all the emotions she had thought she conquered long ago bubbled up like lava.
Then they started hanging out more and she was wary at first. She wasn't sure if this was a game, his way of getting revenge, and she wasn't about to chance it. But slowly her guards came down and she allowed herself to enjoy her time with him. She refused to let the poison of the past seep back in.
But other ghosts weren't willing to do the same.
"How could you, Violet?"
"Dad –"
"No, Violet, I don't want to hear it! He raped and killed your mother! He killed Patrick and Chad! He lit Larry on fire! Don't tell me that you forgot!"
"No, I didn't forget! But maybe I was sick and tired of being sad and angry all the time! Maybe I was willing to put it in the past! Maybe I wanted to finally be able to heal!"
"Your family –"
"Don't you dare fucking tell me that I should be loyal to my family first and foremost when you turned your back on Mom and fucked Hayden! You fucking hypocrite!"
Ignoring her father's words, she ran to her room and slammed the door, collapsing on her bed and choking on her sobs.
Because now she had to choose to break her family or herself.
After that, Tate didn't see her for what seemed like ages. There they were, back at square one. And he could feel him devolving back into the splintered ghost he once was and the thoughts that he thought he had banished began creeping back. He turned bitter.
The world really was a goddamn horror show. He knew it all along. Because what other kind of world would give him the hope of another chance with her and then yank it away?
So when he finally heard Violet speak, he couldn't help but savagely and ruefully smirk like the monster everyone told him he was.
"And look who's had the last laugh."
"Me."
"You got that smug grin."
"Let's just say I like to win."
Once she had slammed the door shut, he finished.
"But I would rather just have you."
So when he heard Violet talking to her mother, the least he could say that he was shocked because he thought Violet no longer wanted anything to do with him.
"So if I choose to live it with him, you will accept that?"
His eyes go wide.
She wants to live it with him?
And suddenly joy and hope rushed through his entire body, but he clamped them down. What if he lost her again? What if it is a sick game? A horrible prank? He knows he wouldn't be able to handle it.
But he knows he will try his hardest for her because that is the least she deserves.
"Just one more chance. All for her."
For another beginning in the end of the world.
A/N: The story will progress in the next chapter, I promise! Reviews are loved!