//
Peter lied back in his bed, his hands resting on top of one another and his eyes were shut.
Peter could never really sleep anymore but he would still try even though he didn't need it. It made him feel almost alive again.
His eyes shot open as he heard screaming from down the hall.
He sat up quickly upon hearing Vivien scream again.
"Mom," Peter quietly uttered, and within the blink of an eye, he stood in the middle of his Vivien's room (thanks to Tate who taught him how to teleport).
Vivien held a candlestick up in defense and looked around the room for someone but she didn't see anyone.
Peter, however, saw Hayden laughing and pushing glass vase off the bedroom's fireplace making Vivien yell in fear, "Who did that?!"
As Hayden was about to knock down another object, Peter stalked up behind her, his fingers latching tightly around her wrist.
Once Peter made physical contact with Hayden, he began to burn and practically vibrate with terrifying rage as he remembered she was the reason he was dead.
Hayden smiled upon seeing Peter. "Oh, bud. You're looking well-" He just glared, shoving her into the wall as hard as he could, making her flinch but she still grinned. "And you're stronger now..."
"Leave my mom alone. Now," Peter practically growled.
Vivien ran to hide in the bathroom, still not seeing Peter and Hayden as Hayden raised her eyebrows. "No, I don't think I will."
Peter's hand balled into a fist before slamming into her jaw. Once, twice, a third time.
Peter wasn't a woman beater but Hayden wasn't a woman, she was a monster. An evil spirit.
Hayden smiled, her teeth gleaming with blood even as Peter grabbed her arms forcefully, shoving her out of the room, into the hall to which she fell and rolled to the floor.
Peter still approached her. "You did this to me!" he yelled, kicking her in the stomach making her gasp for air. "I'm trapped in this house forever! Thanks to you!"
Hayden laughed as she looked up at Peter. "Baby, you should be thanking me. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be able to be with your boy toy forever-"
Peter's hands latched around her throat as he dragged her towards the stairs, slamming her in a wall nearby.
"Listen to me and listen to me good, Hayden," Peter spoke. "We might be stuck in this house together but if you go near my mom, my dad, Violet or Tate, I'll-"
"You'll what?" she asked with a bloody smirk. "Kill me? News flash, baby: I'm already dead."
"No, you'll revive as a spirit again. I can still slit your throat and every time, you wake up, I'll be there to kill you. Over and over again...for eternity." He slammed her into the wall one last time. "Stay. The fuck. Away. From my family."
Then he shoved her down the stairs, her body rolling down the steps with each thump.
Peter's head snapped to the bedroom as he heard the master bathroom door opening to which he made himself visible.
Vivien rushed out of the room, still holding a candlestick holder. "Peter?" she spoke in panic as she saw her son.
"Mom," he spoke calmly to her as she slowly approached. "Are you okay? I heard you scream," he stated as his rage faded away.
Vivien whimpered as she dropped the candlestick holder onto the floor and threw her arms around Peter, sobbing into his shoulder. Peter lightly wrapped his arms around his mom, rubbing her back, trying to reassure her that she was okay.
He glanced over Vivien's shoulder down the stairs to see Hayden was gone.
Once Vivien had calmed down, Peter had told her he'd stay in her room for the night to make sure she was okay. Peter felt like a little kid again, sleeping in his parent's bed when he had a bad dream only the roles were reversed.
The whole night, Vivien held Peter's hand even as she slept. The whole night, Peter sat awake, watching the room to make sure nothing would bother his mom.
***
The next day, Peter sat criss-cross on the basement floor as the red ball rolled out to him.
"You want to play?" Peter asked the figure hiding in the dark. "Beau, right?" he asked. He got no response. "Come out, Beau, please," he spoke softly. "I won't hurt you. I'm Tate's...friend." No response as he rolled the ball back. "Beau?"
"Who are you talking to?" Ben spoke, earning Peter's attention who quickly stood up.
"No one," he answered.
Ben pushed that aside and nodded to upstairs. "Come upstairs. There's something we need to discuss."
"Discuss what?" Peter asked, following Ben.
"Something important with you and Violet," Ben answered.
Peter made up upstairs, following Ben into his study where Violet was seated on the couch. "Fuckin' therapy session," she muttered as Peter sat beside her and Ben sat across from them.
"So...what?" Peter asked Ben.
"I just got off the phone with Mrs. Levinson," Ben spoke. "You two haven't been in school in two weeks."
Two weeks. That's how long Peter has been dead for and it seemed like months.
"What is going on?" Ben asked them.
"I don't like it," Violet stated. "It's boring, and they bully me."
"I just don't want to go," Peter lied, so casually as he folded his arms over his chest.
"Why? What does that mean?" Ben asked.
Violet scoffed. "That is so you. Some kids say they're bullied and their parents just pull them right out. You ask me to define bullying."
"Have you told your mom about this?" Ben asked.
"How is it that a big, fancy shrink hasn't noticed that his wife has totally lost her shit?"
"Vi," Peter spoke softly as the girl turned away.
"Violet, look at me," Ben told her. "Look at me." She did so. "What's going on with her?"
"Well, when she's not in bed or worrying about absolutely everything, she's eating raw brains. Maybe she thinks the twins are stealing hers, 'cause that's kind of how it seems," Violet stated. "And not to mention, she needs Peter to stay with her at night so she can fall asleep."
Ben looked at Peter. "Is that true?"
Peter nodded. "So what is your theoretic diagnosis, Pops?" he asked with a snark to his tone, leaning back into the couch. "For mom? And us? What, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?" he asked with a dry laugh.
"Well," Peter began. "It sounds like, um, your mom is depressed and you're both feeling very alone and isolated..."
"This isn't about us," Violet quickly said. "I'm saying Mom's crazy and it's your fault. You drove her crazy. You're a cheater. Young girls, old ladies with feather dusters..."
"Wait, he and Moira..." Peter began with surprise.
"You're so weird and pathetic," Violet continued at Ben. "I'm surprised you haven't gone after me."
"I'm still your father. Do not talk to me like that," Ben replied.
"Yeah, 'cause you've been really acting like our father," Peter remarked. "Why start now?"
Especially since they were both dead now.
"And I don't have anything more to say anyway," Violet added as they both stood up. "Session's over."
The Harmon twins walked out, ignoring their father calling them.
***
In the middle of the night, while Peter slept a dreamless sleep in his room, a pair of hands shook him awake.
"Peter, wake up," Vivien told him.
Peter opened his eyes. "What is it, Mom?" he asked.
"We're leaving this house tonight," she stated. "We're going to Aunt Jo's."
"What?!" Peter nearly yelled.
"We're not spending another night here."
Peter frowned as he realized that she was going to find out the truth. "But Mom-"
"Now!" she snapped.
Peter only listened, getting out of bed, still in his bed while Vivien exited his room to go into Violet's.
Peter only grabbed an empty backpack (knowing there was no point in doing so), sitting on his bed and pulled on his shoes.
As soon as he stood back up, Vivien came back in with Violet behind her, holding a bag. "Let's go," she told him.
Peter rushed downstairs with Violet and Vivien, reaching the front door, pulling it open, getting to the car the was parked near the house, putting their bags in the back.
As Peter placed his empty backpack in the car, he saw Tate exiting the front door, jumping over the cement railing to watch Peter with sad eyes.
Peter didn't say anything, knowing as soon as Vivien drove off the property, he and Violet be back in the house but Vivien and Violet didn't know that.
Violet saw Tate and gave Peter a comforting squeeze on the shoulder before putting her bag in the car.
Peter then realized that this would be the moment she'd realize that they couldn't leave.
"Vi," he spoke, earning her attention. "We need to talk." She nodded. "We can't-"
"Violet, Peter," Vivien called as she got on the driver's side.
"Let's talk when we leave," Violet told Peter before getting in on the passenger's side as Peter got in the back.
"We don't have to be prisoners to this house anymore," Vivien told her children.
"Excuse me, ma'am," someone spoke suddenly from beside Peter. It was the brunette woman who tried to kill them only her face and body were bloody. "I'm hurt, and I need some help."
Vivien and Violet screamed in fear getting out of the car while Peter followed to make sure no other spirits bothered them as they rushed back into the house.
***
The next morning, Tate lied back in Peter's bed, nude, watching the Harmon boy pull on a long-sleeved gray sweatshirt and some red plaid boxers.
Tate couldn't help but watch him with a small love-struck smile on his face.
They had just had sex for the first time. Peter had let Tate take control since he had no idea what to do and even though Tate admitted the same thing, he acted like he knew what he was doing.
It was only supposed to be a small make-out session until Peter kept trying to remove Tate's clothes until finally, Tate eagerly agreed that he needed Peter.
Peter only remembered certain things because of how fast everything went, like time just sped up in a quick blur.
He remembers Tate on his knees in front of him, having his lips wrapped around him while Peter had his head thrown back on the bed, trying to hold back his moans. Then clothes were removed and suddenly, Tate was ramming into him from behind, suppressing the dirty noises that escaped his lips, gripping Peter's hand so tight, his knuckles were white. And finally, an overwhelming feeling of pleasure washed over them both.
As Peter plopped back on the bed beside Tate, the boy began to fidget with the Harmon boy's fingers as he spoke, "Are you okay?" Tate asked.
"I'm fine," Peter answered casually, resting his head on his propped up arm.
"Did it hurt?" Tate asked. "The first time usually does."
Peter chuckled. "I think that only applies to girls, Tater," he replied to which Tate nodded in response. "But it was intense," Peter continued.
"For me, too," Tate agreed.
Peter took his hand back to run his fingers through Tate's hair as he spoke, "You really are here...aren't you?"
"Of course," Tate hummed, now running his hand against Peter's hip, under his sweater. "I'll always be here if that's what you want."
"It is what I want. Always," Peter answered before pausing, "They'll always be here, too, won't they? The other ghosts."
Tate nodded. "They can't hurt us, Pete."
"Those assholes who tried to kill me, Violet, and my mom. They're dead, aren't they?" Peter asked. "We saw them outside last night. My mom's freaked out. She thinks they're back to finish what they started. I mean, she called the police and my dad rushed over."
"They're just trying to scare you. That's all they can do now," Tate replied.
"I wish I could tell my mom that," Peter mumbled.
"You can't," Tate said, sitting up. "You can't. You can't, Pete. If you tell anyone what we know, they'll say you're crazy."
"Everyone thinks I'm crazy already so-"
"It's going to freak out, Violet," Tate cuts off. "And when she'll try to say what she saw, they'll think she's crazy. And then, when they try to take her away, she'll learn the truth about herself, about us..."
"Peter! Violet! Can you come downstairs?" Ben called from downstairs.
"Coming!" Peter called down before standing up from his bed, picking up sweats off the floor before pulling them on. "Don't worry, she won't say anything. I'll make sure."
"Be careful," Tate told him.
Peter leaned down and pecked Tate's lips. "I got it, I will be," he replied before exiting the room, smoothing down his hair.
Heading downstairs behind Violet, entering the living-room where Vivien and Ben were.
"What's going on?" Violet asked.
"Um...kids, would you please just tell your dad about last night?" Vivien asked the twins.
"Go on. It's okay," Ben added calmly.
Peter's gaze flickered between his parents and then Violet.
'I'm sorry, Mom but this is for Violet. And if you were at least out of this house, the babies would be safe...'
Peter stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, "I saw...Mom really upset."
Vivien nodded. "Just tell him what you saw; what you told the police."
Peter frowned with guilt but stated, "Mom, all I did was I te them what I thought you wanted me to tell them. I didn't see anything."
"Peter," Vivien spoke with a betrayed tone as Violet looked at him in disbelief.
"And Violet didn't see anything either, she told me herself," Peter said, looking to Violet as he lightly grabbed her arm.
"Wha-" Violet began before Peter's grip tightened painfully around her arm making her fall silent before speaking again, "Yeah, Dad. Peter's right. We only told the police what Mom thought she saw."
Peter would've never hurt Violet like that ever but they were both dead so it didn't matter anymore.
"What?" Mom softly uttered in betrayal.
Peter looked to Vivien. "I'm sorry, Mom. I don't know what you saw. You were so upset, so we were upset too."
"Okay, you guys can go," Ben told them.
Peter moved his gaze to the floor, trying to not look at Vivien as he and Violet went back upstairs.
Suddenly as they reached the hallway, Violet shoved Peter in the chest. "What the hell's the matter with you?" she asked.
"What did you mean?" Peter questioned.
"Why did you lie? And you did you make me lie?" Violet asked.
"I did what I had to," Peter answered.
"For who? Tate?" she asked. "You know I used to think that Tate might be what you need because of how happy he made you. But you're worse. You've been a worse person since you've met him."
"That's not true and you know it," Peter told her.
"Really? So you didn't team up with him to attack Leah? You didn't just stand there and watch him kill that freak?"
"How did you know-" Peter began. "He did that to protect-"
"You didn't lie to Mom and Dad for him?" Violet continued.
Peter didn't deny it or confirm it. He only thought over his mom's words.
'...when you fall in love, it's kind of like you go crazy, and before you know it, the whole world looks different, and then you'll do anything for the other person.'
Violet scoffed. "You know what, you two deserve each other."
"Vi..." Peter began.
"Go to hell," she snapped before going into her room, slamming the door, leaving Peter to stand in the hall.
She was right. He did most of those things for Tate but he did a lot for her and she didn't even realize it.
Peter stomped in his room, slamming the door shut and smacked something off his dresser out of rage.
"Fuck," he muttered, sitting down on his now-empty bed, hiding his face in his hands.
He didn't know where Tate was but he needed to rant to him later when he returned.
Meanwhile, Tate sat in the basement in the rocking chair, thoughts running all over the place as Hayden spoke, "Aw, look at Little Lord Fauntleroy, writing sorrowful sonnets in your head to that little nightingale queer," Hayden remarked, walking towards him. "'Adieu, nightingale. Thy plaintive anthem fades.'"
"That's Keats," Tate corrected.
"Who gives a shit? You're like a girl, sulking down here in the basement, instead of doing something about what's really bothering you," she stated.
"I'm tired of hurting people," Tate replied.
"Do you want him to go away?" Hayden asked, referring to Peter. "'Cause Vivien booked their tickets. I heard her. Once Peter realizes that his family will be leaving without him, for real this time, he's going to break. He's going to hide away from anyone because that's what he does. He pushes people away. You know what you have to do."
"Yeah, I do. I just have to prepare myself. It's not fun," Tate answered.
"You want to fool around while you work your way up to it?" she asked, pushing her knee in between his legs, spreading them apart and sitting on his lap. "Come on..."
"I'm not into it," Tate replied, only thinking about Peter.
"I heard you...fucking him senselessly through the walls," she whispered. "What is it about being dead that makes me so horny?" she asked herself, her hand resting on Tate groin.
Until Tate grabbed her by the wrist, pushing her away. "Quit it," he nearly snapped. "I'm in love."
Tate stood up, walking out as Hayden called out, "You better locate your balls before you go in there! That bitch is tough!"
***
Hours later, Peter heard stuff breaking and Vivien yelling in the other room.
He closed his eyes and in a moment, he was standing in Vivien's room, anger bubbling within him as he saw Hayden standing over the bed.
He grabbed her by the throat, fingers latching tightly. "I'm gonna fucking kill you," he growled.
Hayden grinned. "Oh, Petey. I'm not the one you should be worried about," she whispered before looking over to the bed. "Oh, Mr. Rubber Man. Come say 'hello'."
Peter looked towards the bed to see a man in the black rubber suit Tate had was hovering over Vivien, holding her wrist down while she screamed and called for help.
"Hey!" Peter called, getting the Rubber Man to look up at him, freezing at the Harmon boy.
The man got up and disappeared as Vivien still thrashed as if he was still there.
"Who was that?" Peter asked Hayden.
"Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough," Hayden wheezed.
Peter dragged Hayden out of the room, into the hallway before dragging her into his own room, slamming the door with his foot before throwing her to the floor.
"Ooh, I like it rough," she said with a smirk, staring up at Peter.
Peter sighed. "I told you..." he began as he reached the pair of scissors waiting on his desk. "...What would happen if you came near my family..."
"My God, your bitch of a sister was right," Hayden laughed. "You're not the same cute little boy that I remember."
"I'm fucking dead, thanks to you, what did you expect?" Peter hissed.
"Well, I have to admit," she spoke, standing up to touch his cheek softly. "It's kind of hot. Like, you're kind of turning me on right now."
"Barking up the wrong tree, sister," Peter replied before raising his hand, stabbing her in the middle of her stomach, making her gasp as blood spread across her shirt.
He pulled the scissors back, before stabbing her twice, three times, four...until she fell to the ground.
As she choked on her blood, she still smiled. "I'll come back," she stated.
"I know that," Peter answered as he dropped to his knees beside her. "And I really don't give a fuck right now."
He raised his hand and kept stabbing her, anger still overpowering him as he stabbed her body many times, each time he removed the scissors, blood splattered his face and hands.
He finally stood up once she was lifeless and wiped his face and hands with a towel on a chair in his room as footsteps could be heard running down the hall.
"What now?" Peter mumbled, dropping his towel, opening the door and exiting into the hall where cops, Violet and Ben stood in the room talking with Vivien. "What's going on?" Peter asked, entering the room.
Ben turned to Vivien. "I had to do it, Vivien. You're unstable."
Vivien shook her head. "No..."
"And you need to be evaluated. These men are going to take you to a hospital. I'm so sorry. But it's the best alternative. I didn't want to do it. You shot me, sweetheart. It's gotten dangerous."
Vivien teared up as she said, "But I wasn't shooting you. I was shooting him-the rapist in the rubber suit..."
One of the cops pulled out a pair of handcuffs to which Ben told him, "That's not necessary."
"Ben, could you get my coat for me, please?" Vivien asked. As Ben walked over to grab her coat off her door, Vivien's gaze moved to her two children. Pain and betrayal were evident in them to which Peter looked down at the floor as Ben helped Vivien pull her coat on. "Thank you..."
She tried to grab her purse to which one of the cops told her, "You won't be needing that, ma'am." Reluctantly, Vivien left it on her desk.
As she walked by the security guard, Luke Maxcy, told Vivien, "Um, I'm so sorry, Vivien."
"It's okay," she replied quietly. "At least I'll be out of this house."
Peter, Violet, and Ben only watched and followed behind as she was escorted out of the room, downstairs and out of the house.
Sudden guilt-filled Peter as he realized his mother was being put in a loony bin even though she was telling the truth about everything she saw and she wasn't crazy.
"God, fuck," Peter mumbled. "It's all my fault."
"No, son," Ben told Peter softly. "It's not. You did the best thing you could do. You told the truth."
He gave Peter a hug who cautiously accepted it before Ben pulled back to close the door and leave to stay with Vivien.
Violet looked at Peter with disbelief. "At least you know that this is all your doing," she said with a scoff before going back upstairs.
She was right. He did do this but he had good reasons (or so he thought). He needed to protect Violet from herself and Vivien from this house and if that means having her stay in a hospital far away from here then so be it, right?
But it just didn't settle right with Peter...
"It's okay," someone spoke softly. Peter turned to see Tate stand beside him with a small charming smile before he wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulder, pulling the boy closer to him. "I'm here," he reassured Peter.
Peter Harmon stiffly nodded before leaning more into Tate's welcoming hold, resting his head against the blond boy's chest as his arms snaked around his middle, hugging him for comfort to which Tate held him tightly, pressing light kisses to Peter's head.
Yes, he was glad at least Tate was here.
But he wouldn't be here for long...Peter just didn't know that yet.
***