Adversity

A/N: this story was inspired by an actual conversation between Sumatranfox and my sister's boyfriend.

A cool summer breeze was blowing across the fields, gently rustling the leaves on the trees while the sound of crickets filled the air, playing their song to the night as the wind danced to their tune. Scabior leaned back in the grass, letting the gentle breeze play across his face as it tugged at the strands of hair that had escaped his ponytail. It was amazing how cool and comfortable it was during the late hours of the night, while during the day it was so hot that the head Snatcher was forced to abandon all but his plaid pants to keep from overheating.

The hour was late and the moon had risen well above the horizon, illuminating the figure of a man with greying wings as he walked down the stairs towards the hill where Scabior was sitting.

"I say, what have you got there, Scabior?" Sanderson asked as he sat down beside the Snatcher. He could see that Scabior had several notebooks spread out on the grass in front of him, and was shining the light from his wand over the pages so he could read in the dark.

"This is just something Violet wrote," said Scabior. He held up one of the notebooks so Sanderson could get a better look at it. There was a sticker on the cover of the dark blue book with the words "Night of Silence" written on it.

Sanderson took the book and began flipping through the pages, the curious expression on his face turning to that of disgust as he started reading the fourth chapter of the story. Scabior suddenly burst out laughing when Sanderson dropped the book and let out a string of swear words that would melt the hair off a sailor's head.

"Wha's wrong?" Scabior asked, grinning at his new friend.

"What's wrong?" Sanderson echoed, his brown eyes wide in the light of Scabior's wand, giving him the appearance of a startled owl sitting there in the dark. "Everything is wrong with that hideous atrocity! And you say Violet wrote that? That is disgusting! It is foul beyond words!"

Scabior chuckled as Sanderson continued to rant. He picked up the book and set it on his lap, smiling as he continued reading where Sanderson left off. "Oh, I don't know," he said mildly. "It's not tha bad. I like to think of it as putting the 'scab' in 'Scabior.' I mean it is the first four letters of my name after all."

Sanderson followed this comment with a few four letter words of his own.

"Don't think of it as me being 'armed," Scabior explained in a surprisingly calm, thoughtful tone. "Think of it as 'er being unique. An the illness is like a type of adversity, which is a necessary element in all stories."

"Necessary element," Sanderson muttered, shaking his head. "She, my dear friend, is a very twisted individual. What kind of person enjoys seeing their loved ones sick?"

"You think tha's bad, take a look at this," said Scabior, opening a different book and shoving it under Sanderson's nose. This one had a sticker on the front that said "Complicated Healing", and Scabior had opened the book to chapter three.

Sanderson took one look at the story and shouted, "Get that away from me! You are going to make me vomit!"

Hearing him say that sent Scabior into a renewed fit of laughter, for he knew that vomit was the one thing Violet liked writing about the most. He laughed so hard that he fell over onto his side in the grass, and proceeded to roll down the hill into the trees. "You ought to prepare yourself for all sorts of adversity now that Violet is starting to write stories about you!" he called out from the woods.

Sanderson froze as horror the likes of which he had never felt before gripped his heart. Violet had started writing stories like that about him? Dear Merlin, what was wrong with her? He then looked up as he felt a hand tighten around shoulder, and saw Violet standing behind him, her face shadowed in the silver light of the moon.

"Welcome to the family," she said. And from that moment on Sanderson knew he was screwed.