Finally managed to fnish another chapter! Yippee. Sorry that's it has been a month, but I have been super busy at school and hope this chapter is enough to make up for it.

I really like this chapter. It was very interesting to write! Hope you enjoy:)

Chapter 5~

By the time the lights of the morning came in past the pastel coloured curtains and Tate and roused himself from sleep, Violet was already gone. He knew it would be too good to be true if he woke up to see Violet lying beside him.

The empty space next to him was left tousled from where her body had been resting and the bed covers which used to be neat had been dislodged from her movement throughout the night. Tate realized that even though Violet moved a lot in her sleep it had been the most peaceful and well rested night of sleep he had had in a long time.

He stretched his tense muscles as he sat up and let out a long, satisfied groan.

The rain had stopped now, and in its absence had left the last drops of the water splattered against the window frame which were now shining in the starts of the morning sunshine.

As Tate made his way downstairs he saw Moira cleaning and watched as the old woman dusted the bookshelf more thoroughly than he thought was needed. He felt sympathetic for her. She was trapped here alone forever with nothing to do except clean.

One time when he had asked her why she kept on cleaning she had replied that she liked to do it, but Tate knew that the real reason was because it was the only thing she could fill her time doing. Unless there was the baby to look after then all Moira done was clean. What a pointless existence, he thought, but then again everyone's existence in the Murder House was pointless.

As Tate emerged into the kitchen he caught the glimpse of Violet as she walked out of the door, her golden hair flowing down over her back. He went to say something when she turned around and caught his eyes, but before he could get his works out she was gone.

...

He didn't see her for another four days after that.

The rain didn't come back and neither did Violet. Every so often he would see her around the house or in the garden, especially on particularly sunny days when she preferred to spend her time outside. He could relate to how she felt. He loved the outdoors too, but these days he limited his time to the house. Somehow it made him feel saner, which sounded so stupid considering the house was the one thing that made him insane in the first place, but inside the house he didn't have to deal with hearing the rest of the world live their lives while he was trapped inside. He didn't like to watch the people walk by oblivious to the hell he was going through. It only made him gloomier than he already was.

When Violet finally did show up it was she who came to him which was as much of a surprise to Tate as it appeared to be to Violet herself. She entered her room, which he was sat in staring out of the window, and the expression she displayed on her face held ones of surprise and confusion as if she hadn't meant to walk into the room. No matter her shock she didn't verbalize it and took on a look of hardness.

"I'm ready to talk." She spoke evenly. The words hitting him hard as the panic flooded through him. He gulped , but nodded.

She took a seat on the bed placing her hands neatly in her dress.

They could hear the baby crying in the room next door and Violet looked towards the door.

"Let's go down into the basement." She said.

Tate didn't like the sound of that. That was the place he had just moved out of and now she wanted him to go back down there. He swallowed yet didn't complain and lifted his body from the side when she got up to open the door. He followed her in silence.

When the door of the basement was closed and the rest of the murder house's noise was cut off from them, Violet started to speak.

"I don't really know where to begin." She admitted. "There are so many things I need to say. Too much..."

Tate stared at her. "Maybe I should start then."

Violet didn't try to disagree and when he saw her look to him it gave him the signal he needed to begin.

"I'm not proud of the things I've done. I hate thinking about everything I have done wrong. Everyone...everyone I have hurt...or killed." His words were heard to say out loud. "But," He gulped. "...but everything I have done, there was a reason for it."

Violet sputtered. "What...what!" She couldn't believe what he had just said. She thought he was going to beg her to forgive him for everything he had ever done wrong. Not try to tell her that what he done he done for the right reasons. "You've got to be kidding me?"

He shook his head. "You have to understand why I did what I did."

Violet frowned and shook her head in despair. Her lips tried to find her words, but she was truly speechless. "There...there is nothing to understand Tate! How can you even think that there is good enough reason to account for everything you have done?"

"I was helping."

Violet was speechless again. He really was fucked up. There was no hope left for him after all. If he thought that he had valid reasons for killing people then he was already far beyond saving.

She shot up from the wall they had been leaning against. "You're despicable!" She shouted, her voice echoing around the room and causing Tate to jump. Her mind couldn't function properly and she felt as if her blood was beginning to boil under the pressure she was starting to feel.

There were too many emotions and thoughts going around in her mind to comprehend. She couldn't deny the love she felt, but then again couldn't settle the amount of disgust that came along too.

"Tate, for everyone you have ever hurt or inflicted pain upon, I wish you could feel just how deeply you have hurt them. I wish that for every innocent life you stole you feel the heartache and misery you put their family through. And for the time when you raped my mother, I want you to feel the insanity and violation that you made her feel."

Tate's eyes were becoming puffy and red, his lips whispering the word "no" repeatedly with small puffs of breath as if he had run out of air. "I was helping them. I was helping everyone."

Violet scoffed unpleasantly. "So that makes it justifiable does it? It doesn't matter the reason for your actions, Tate. I don't want to hear your excuses, no matter how sincere you think them to be, it is never right to kill." She turned away and he could tell she was starting to block him out again. "You should stay down here and rot."

A wave of anxiety washed through him as he watched her get up to leave and on the spur of his instincts he leapt forward and caught her arm.

"Violet, please. I thought it was the right thing to do, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" His fingers were wrapped around her arm, preventing her from movement, but not tight enough for it to be inescapable. Her body froze, faced in the opposite direction, when she felt his touch and heard his attempts of remorse.

His head fell down, his neck unable to keep his head held up for the shame which anchored him down. The next words that left him were no more than quiet whispers, words choked out. "If I could take it back, I would. I would take back everything bad I have ever done if it meant that you would forgive me."

She turned to look at him. The look in his eyes was sincere as he stared at her. His gaze pleading along with his words.

"I never meant to hurt you. I've only ever wanted to make you happy. Safe." His bottom lip trembled from the force of holding in his cries, his eyes starting fill up again. "I'm sorry that I am such a failure to you." A single tear ran down his cheek, leaving a wet trail in its path. He dropped to his knees, his already tattered and ripped jeans getting an additional graze to their worn material which they were more than used to receiving.

Violet could only stand and watch. Her anger was still boiling underneath her skin, but the emotion in his voice affected her in a way she never thought possible. Her hands itched to comfort him, to reach and pull him to her body so she could cradle him in her arms and quiet his cries.

The sight before her was not one she liked to look at and the love she had for the boy knelt in front of her, rocking back and forth on his knees in utter despair, was still just as strong as it had ever been before. She was sick with herself for even loving him after everything he had done. For all his sin worthy behaviour, there was always a little voice in her head that gave excuses for his actions, nodding along when he said he had justifiable reasons for his deeds. She knew she shouldn't feel the way she did because she knew that if it had been anyone else she would have been utterly disgusted and steered as far away from that person as possible, but with Tate she didn't want to believe that he was capable of such gruesome things.

She wanted to believe that there were always good intentions behind the horrific things he committed because then it didn't make his crimes seem so bad. And in some kind of sick and twisted way he did have intentions behind his behaviour. Not all innocent or good intentions, she had to admit, but he had purpose for most. Like for raping her mother he had only done it to help make the life of the woman, who had helped raise him, more tolerable. He had promised her a baby and with Tate's corrupted mind helping a woman who he had grown close to over the years was a lot more important than not committing rape. Violet knew it still didn't make what he had done right, no way on earth did she think it was right, but sometimes she had to look at life from his perspective for how was she supposed to understand him if she only ever blocked him off. To fully understand and try to help him she had to first try and establish what he saw the world from his eyes.

Tate's bent head shook as he wiped at his tear stained face. It appeared as if he was struggling. He was trying to pull his act together before he looked back up to face her.

His hand smothered him from her gaze, and skimmed over his face, landing on his lips. It took a couple more seconds before he finally looked back up to her, his eyes now bloodshot and watery. His mouth opened on queue to speak, but he seemed at a loss for words, his mouth quivering like a brainless fish as he searched for the right things to say.

"I've never cared about how anyone else viewed me," his voice was shaky and his breathing shallow as he fought for control. "But with you it's different. You are the only one I have wanted to be proud of me...only you." Blonde locks shook from the frantic force of his shaking head. "I thought I was doing right. I thought it was right...I thought...I thought..." His lips gave into the trembling and his voice left him as sobs replaced his words. Dirty fingernails embedded their way into his matching filthy hair.

A sudden, angry cry tore from his throat and rattled around the vastness of the basement, causing Violet to jump from the loud, echoing sound.

Violet watched as he collapsed at her feet. Cries echoed around the room after being torn from out of his mouth. It was so hard to watch and try and feel nothing. She wanted to hate him, wanted to not forgive him for everything he had done, but a part of her was yearning just as badly for him as he was for her.

And that killed her too. How could she been in a love with a murderer, rapist, and psychopath!

Her mouth started to tremble and then her whole body began to shake.

She had to leave.

Violet left him on the floor and headed for the door hoping she could escape without his notice.

But of course he heard.

"Wait!" His desperate voice echoed. Violet slowed. "Vi, please, please just wait." Her eyes watered with tears and ever so slowly she turned to face him. "When will you be back? You are coming back, aren't you?" His voice was pleading and full of anxiety at the same time.

She looked down to the ground, not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes. "Yeah..." She lied, unconvincingly. If she told him the truth he would never let her leave.

Tate knew exactly what she meant and felt his heart sink. He opened his mouth to argue and plead her to come back again, but knew that it was pointless; Violet would do what she wanted regardless.

"Well," He said his voice wavering. "Can I at least get a goodbye kiss?" He inquired gently. "If I will never see you again then...then just let me have this."

Violet looked at the door. "I have to go, I-"

"Just one."

He picked himself up and advanced towards her. His eyes were pleading; his hands which had come to rest on her forearms were warm against the coldness of her skin. Would one kiss really hurt?

"Tate, no." She shook her head and pulled from out of his embrace. She had to remember she was still angry!

His face crumbled and his eyes formed water. Violet groaned internally, she didn't want to see him cry. It was one of her weaknesses.

"You have to understand," She whispered. "This is just as hard for you as it is for me."

His eyes lifted to hers. "No it isn't." He argued. "If it was just as hard for you then the mere thought of being separated would be too much, the idea of never seeing each other for days after days would kill you and psychically be impossible for you to do."

"Tate..."

"Why can't you just forgive me? I'm so sorry, Violet. So bloody sorry!"

"I know..."

"Well obviously you don't because otherwise we wouldn't be in this situation right now."

"Tate, I know how sorry you are, but sometimes that's just not enough."

His jaw clamped shut, his teeth gritted together. He turned around and crouched down on the floor, his hands pulling at his hair in frustration.

Violet just stood and watched while his hands skimmed through his strands and pulled at his sculpt which she thought looked painful. He started to rock on his heels, back and forth, back and forth, like a child. Sobs sounded out through the basement and she watched his back shake from the force of them.

Her own eyes began to water and she knew that he was waiting for her to go, for her to walk away like she had done last time, but this time he didn't want to watch. She knew she should have done exactly what he thought she was going to do and just say goodbye to him and be gone, but there was no movement from her at all. Her limbs were hung loosely at her sides, her fingers clutching the material of her dress, her feet unable to move. His sobs were hard to listen to and her tears began to stream down her cheeks after realizing the mess he was in.

She moved slowly forward, soundless, her heels touching the floor before her sole did. She walked around his crouched body and circled him until she was at the front looking down at his head tucked between his knees, hiding his face.

She knelt down in front of him, mere inches from the heat of his body and reached out slowly to pull at the fingers that were pulling painfully gripping his hair. Her touch seemed to jolt him and his body froze but he didn't look up. He let her loosen his grip on his blonde locks and let her weave her fingers into his own before sliding them out of his hair and down to his sides. One of her hands stayed attached to his while the other moved to lift his face. He let her fingers brush against his wet, tear stained cheeks and slowly reveal his face to hers once again. His eyes were puffy again, the rims covered in moisture and redness.

"I thought you had left," He whispered.

She smiled weakly at him. "No."

"But-"

"Shh." She hushed him with one finger. Her face descended on his slowly and she gently let her lips press to his.

She could feel his breath hitch as they met, skin to skin, and when she slowly moved her lips over his own he didn't respond for a few seconds.

Once, he realized that Violet was actually giving in and was allowing him to kiss her after so long, he responded back with a fire that had her nearly falling back and off balance.

His lips suddenly ravaged hers whole. His hands grasped either side of her face and pulled her close, clearing taking more from the kiss than she was going to offer. The kiss was demanding and eager nothing like the gentleness she once had found in his affections.

She pulled her face back slightly to ease some of the pressure from off her lips, but like an animal hunting its prey, his lips stayed attached to her and followed her every move, not once breaking their connection. His lips were insistent and forceful, never pulling back to allow her to suck in air through her mouth. She tried to breath from out of her nose, but it was hard while she was concentrating on trying to get herself from out of the awkward situation. Her hands reached up to push at his chest, once, twice, three times, but his hunger for her still didn't seem restored and every time she tried to pull away, his hands were always there to bring her back to him.

An arm snaked around her waist restricting her from movement. Breathing was becoming a problem now and her face was rising a degree in heat due to the lack of oxygen.

"Tate..." She mumbled awkwardly between his lips. "Stop." He didn't seem to hear her, or more likely didn't seem to listen. "Tate!" She tried again slightly louder and this time he restrained himself and pulled back. She sucked in the air full force, never realizing how good it felt to feel air enter her lungs. She pushed him away. Her chest heaving with each breathe she drew in.

"Sorry..." He gasped his own breathing ragged and uneven.

Violet stared at him. At his lips which were now red and swollen after the attack he had made on her. She suspected her own were now red.

They just sat and breathed for a minute, letting on another regain their breathe again.

"I'm sorry." Tate repeated. "I didn't mean to..." He reached out to touch her, embrace her, but she pulled away.

"I have to go now."

Tate's hand dropped to the floor and he bit his lip in restraint to words that wanted to plead her to stay. He wouldn't beg her this time. He nodded and dropped his head.

As Violet ascended the stairs she looked back one last time at his figure and opened her mouth.

"See you soon, Tate." She whispered before opening the door and walking out. Behind her she heard a slight movement from him as her words registered, but by then she had already closed the door.