Fic: 'That Dare Not Speak Its Name (A Series of Unfortunate Events, Violet/Klaus, R, 1/1) Title: That Dare Not Speak Its Name Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events Characters: Violet/Klaus Word Count: 702 Rating: hard R Spoilers: Book the Thirteenth, The End Warnings: Incest. Disclaimer: Characters are property of Daniel "Lemony Snicket" Handler, and Lemony "Daniel Handler" Snicket. Summary: Family is all they know.
That Dare Not Speak Its Name
The dark is a friend to Klaus. A hiding place. Villains cannot find him, nor can volunteers, and he cannot find himself, cannot find his sister's face in the dim when he plunges deeper and hears her sharp cry. Her fingers scrabble for purchase, leave marks on his shoulders that he will never see. The dark is sensation, where he has sound and smell and touch and taste, and that is all he needs. All he can stand. Anything more, and he'd shatter.
Sunny starts school one bright September morning, Indian summer, where the windows in their apartment are open so a wind can waft through. It is the first time he and Violet have been alone. In the daytime. In private. He stands at the window and looks out at the world, the one he's no longer sure he can face, and feels Violet at his back.
He's taller than she is, now. She rests her head against his shoulder blade, loose wisps of hair fluttering across the bare back of his neck in the breeze. Anyone who knows Violet knows that she ties her hair up in a ribbon when she wishes to think. Her hair remains loose now. Thinking is not on the agenda.
Violet's breath warms a spot on the back of his t-shirt. A hand loops uncertainly around his waist. They remain that way for a long time, or only a few seconds, eternity or a blink, he doesn't know, sometimes it seems the same.
Her hand is under his shirt, flat against his stomach. Klaus doesn't breathe. He looks down. He can see it, see her, her skin against his. They're pale. They don't leave often; the world these days seems too big and too small. Klaus turns and takes her face in his hands.
He can see her, all of her, on top of the covers as he licks her skin and hears her sigh. The blanket at night is another layer of protection, another way to hide, but it's meaningless now. He sees her face: the love of him, the hate of herself, the desire and resignation, the pleasure. Klaus knows she can see it in his face, too. He can't decide if it's better or worse this way, the open acknowledgment at last.
They undress each other slowly, taking the time to enjoy it, or as much enjoyment as can really be had. This is a moment with an expiration date, they know. Klaus keeps his glasses on and takes the time to see all the things he only knows in the dark.
It's a turning point. For all the things Klaus has seen, has done, has regretted, he feels as though he's finally achieved some level of adulthood previously untouched. And so he touches.
Violet gasps against his shoulder, breath shooting hot over his flesh. Her skin catches under his fingertips, but he keeps them in motion. He can see every goosebump he raises on her.
In the next room, the baby cries.
She is old enough now that she doesn't require constant supervision, but the world they live in is a far cry from the island and the only home she ever knew. They are making the readjustment slowly, cautiously, and are dragging her with them into this unsafe outside world. Once their life was dictated by the tides. Now it is ruled by paranoia and second-guessing.
This is adulthood, the way they've always known it, putting someone else before themselves. Putting each other first. Survival of their family was paramount; it was the defining difference between their evil deeds and Olaf's. He had legions of minions but looked out only for himself. They looked out, continue to look out for each other quite simply because they are all they have.
Klaus kisses Violet's temple and rolls over. They are all he has and they are all he wants.
And as he gets to his feet, he catches Violet's eye and sees his own thoughts mirrored in her face. She agrees to the words he won't say. As twisted as this may be, she would not change it. They are all each other have and they are all each other need.