REWRITTEN.
TW
Violet and Klaus had decided on a Thai restaurant that he had high opinions of, and it was safe to say she had warily agreed; the food was okay and for once in her life Violet found herself enjoying an outing with someone as her company, even if she was scared of trying any of the food Klaus shoved her way. It wasnt often she even left the house and everything about the outside world stressed her out, but Klaus was kind and a little odd looking and people avoided the two because of it.
She picked at some wafer cookies while tucked into the corner of the window seat, listening to Klaus as he rambled on about his experiences with rehab, despite the twinge of sadness it brought her. He talked about someone he'd met who didn't really talk and that the two would probably get along as she forced a smile at him and nodded, unsure how to respond.
But that was Klaus.
Klaus ate most of their food, gleeful when she slid over her barely eaten from plate to his side.
Despite the sense of warmth in her chest as they split ways, her mood plummeted the second they returned to the academy.
Klaus left with Luther to run some sort of important errand, leaving Violet to herself.
Without bothering to find her, she found her other siblings grouped together downstairs for a deep discussion. There was an old television on wheels and boxes of old tapes at their centre.
Just from everyone's expressions she could sense the tension.
She considered in passing to continue on upstairs and ignore it - they hadn't bothered to find her to include her in the conversation - why should she bother? But curiosity got the better of her when she heard Grace's name being thrown around.
Violet didn't need to turn herself invisible to be unseen. She sat herself on the bottom step just outside the room and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head against the banister. She was just listening in, not really interested as their fathers name was thrown around a lot along with the concept of how he died.
She didn't care much for that - but stayed simply because it was a family discussion and out of spite - she was going to be involved one way or another, whether they knew or not.
Their arguing turned worse by the minute and she grimaced, screwing her eyes shut as she tightened her hold around her knees.
Their voices raised, clipping over eachother just like they used to when they were kids.
Her fingernails dug into her arms.
Her gut twisted as Grace became more of the focus of the talk.
Luther was for sure that she had caused Sir Reginalds death and because of her acting strange as of late, was trying to convince the others to shut her down.
She didn't care if she really did kill their dad because she had been a far better parent than he ever could be, along with Pogo, and she cared much more about her than him.
She was their mother.
The only one who had any shred of love in her robotic heart for them as children. She helped them when they were sick, kept them fed, played with them, comforted them after missions and training.
She had comforted them after Ben's funeral, explaining things to them in a way that made them feel like it wasn't their fault, despite going against Sir Reginalds programming.
Violet agreed with Diego. How could they talk about her as though she wasn't worth anything?
Voting went back and forth, voices sharp and volatile and she wanted, so desperately wanted to get up and tell them all to stop!
If only she could convince herself to be that brave.
She should get a vote.
But would they have heard her if she tried anyways?
When her name was mentioned however, she froze in her dazed thinking. Her back straightened as she listened in closer, frowning.
"If mom wasn't here, then Violet might not even be here right now."
Everyone went quiet, suddenly ready to listen to Vanya as she spoke sternly, seriously, a sad glint in her eye.
Diego was the first to respond, quickly. "What- what do you mean?"
Violet paled but found herself pinned to the spot, unable to tear herself away from the conversation. She gripped her sleeves so tight she could have ripped them, her muscles coiled in so tightly they felt fit to snap. Everything hurt.
She had a feeling she knew where this was going and silently willed Vanya to stop - selfishly. Because if they knew all that Grace had done in caring for Violet, they might just realise how much they all needed her, even now.
"Six years ago Violet did something," Vanya began carefully, uncomfortable with the attention and the topic. "It took a lot of time for her to recover-"
"What are you getting at?" Luther demanded impatiently.
"I - I promised her I wouldn't tell-"
"-why? If it was so important?" Allison cut in.
Violet covered her mouth with the fabric of her sleeve, pressing the side of her body against the banister, the discomfort of it digging into her side and arm the only thing she could focus on. It was bruising and it hurt and it kept her from running away like a coward.
Her knee bounced up and down and she didn't even try to stop it.
"You guys left!" Vanyas outburst surprised them all into silence. Her voice was weak as she began explaining as best she could. "She was struggling. And no one bothered to check on her for years..."
There was a thick silence before Vanya uttered something, nearly silently.
And without a doubt, she knew that Vanya had just told them about her falling from the roof.
Phantom pains shot across the back of her neck, through her skull, her back as she huddled in on herself, arms tightening around her knees.
There was a thick, glum silence that followed. Whispered questions, slowly, as some of them came out of the realisation.
"Why would she-"
"-it wasn't... it wasn't the first time she'd had an incident." Vanya revealed gently. "She stole an old knife of yours a long time ago." She knew she was addressing Diego. "I guess she hid it in her room."
"What are you saying?" Allison's voice was in disbelief.
"We all know what she's trying to say," Diego cut in, tone weak.
The skin on her wrist over her tattoo burnt. How many years had she spent dragging that blade through the ink marked skin to get rid of that symbol, to get rid of the branding their father had forced onto them, to get rid of the memories it brought just looking at it.
And how many years did her skin patch itself over, scarring and then clearing, leaving faded grey inky lines and warped skin?
Vanya's voice was a whisper. "She split her head open the first time, and when I got here I didnt know what to do-" her voice broke. "But- but mom knew what to do. And she helped me fix her up, and she took care of her when I had to go to work, and she made sure she ate and she got up and she took care of herself after."
"Jesus..." Klaus whispered in abject horror.
Violet wanted desperately to block out their voices but found it near impossible. She stifled her shallow breathing and felt a shiver go down her spine, followed by a deep ache.
Violet could remember the feeling of her back hitting the little step up around the flower beds, the way her head had hit the concrete next.
The agony and delirium as she opened her eyes, time slipping away from her.
Yet somehow, the worse pain was knowing that no one had found her until Grace woke up from her charging point.
No one else would have noticed her gone.
"She had two attempts in one year and she walked away from both of them. Not because she wanted to, but because mom was there to take care of her. Mom never left her side, and dad? All he said was 'it was a waste of her to even try.'"
The siblings all found it difficult to lift their eyes from the floor, the heavy topic of their littlest sister suffering so horrifically weighing them all down.
Violet had the lower part of her face buried in her arms, eyes glazed over. She wanted to go and lie down in her bed for a while but couldn't convince her limbs to move. The wood against her shoulder hurt. So did her head, and her heart.
The unsaid words were echoing between them all:
If Grace hadn't been there, Violet would be dead.
Violets chest ached horrifically. And despite her healing ability, her entire body hurt.
Even now, they had no idea she was there listening.
She missed Five.
She remembered that time in her life where she was nothing but foresakingly alone; everyone but Vanya had forgotten about her, the guilt of Ben's tragic death still weighed her down and the loss of Five had shattered her. Their fathers lack of remorse or care for what he had done and continued to do, belittling her and reminding her everyday that she was a disappointment, it all piled up in the end.
And she had always struggled with understanding her emotions, with coping with them. Because she felt everything a bit too much, too harshly, and she couldnt handle it.
"You had so much potential," Reginald had said as she laid, barely awake in her bed the night after the first attempt. "If only you had tried harder."
She was tired of remembering, tired of doing the same thing over and over, tired of wishing things had been different and took actions into her own hands. Without Five she had no one to talk to, no one to confide in, no one to give her comfort. The only good thing in her life had been taken from her and she was trapped inside her childhood home, wandering the halls like a lost ghost day in day out.
You werent supposed to feel that way about your own home. To feel lost amongst your own family wasn't right, but it had been the hand that Violet was dealt at the time.
And Vanya was right; she never wanted to heal herself.
Her body did that for her despite her begging internally for it to stop. She'd awoken half blind from the bleed on her brain, barely able to take a normal breath without agony and unable to move from her bed. Grace and Vanya didn't leave her bedside until she had physically healed.
In that time she said nothing, not even a single word.
She had cried often when the two weren't there, wanting to break everything in reach, all her emotions overwhelming to the point where she thought she'd break.
Violet despised thinking back to those years, the lowest points in her life that she wished to never revisit, despite the fact they weren't so distant.
And there she was now, curled up against herself at the base of the dark stairwell, barely able to keep herself grounded to reality while her mind reeled back.
Unbeknownst to her, Klaus was watching the ghost of Ben Hargreeves, trying not to get caught up in his own thoughts because he didn't want to cry.
Ben was standing leant against the doorway, staring down at something hidden out in the hall. He looked sad. Klaus wondered where he was going as he left the room and stepped into the dark, looming hallway where Violet was sat unnoticed.
Ben had sat next to little Violet, all too aware that she could not see him nor hear him. And yet, with an aching heart that didn't even beat anymore, he spoke softly.
"Oh, Violet..."
He wished she could hear him.
Violet felt sick. Now angry that they would even consider destroying mom, she didn't care if they could hear her. She stormed upstairs, footsteps hitting the stairs rapidly as she fought to get away from the suffocating room. Her door shut behind her and the house went into a solemn silence again at the realisation that once more, they hadn't noticed her presence.
Ben Hargreeves had never wanted to be alive more than that moment, if only to give his sister a much needed hug.
Sadly, that wasn't possible, and the worst part was he wasn't even sure if she would let him.