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"CUT, CUT, CUT, CUT....."
The voices of the deafening audience rumbled in Klaus' ears, mixing with the accelerated sound of his own heart. Adrenaline pulsated through his body, leaving his limbs cold and his mind chaotic. He stared at Violet, lying calmly on the hospital stretcher, her serene face contrasting with the dread that consumed her.
"Cut" Olaf's hoarse voice sounded next to him, impatient, but for Klaus, he seemed distant, muffled by the growing panic in his mind.
He didn't know what to do. What could you do? The auditorium was crowded, eyes glazed at him, expectant, waiting for the inevitable outcome. He looked around desperately, looking for a way out, but there was none. No ajar door, no distraction, no chance. He, Violet and Sunny had been lucky countless times, but at this moment, Klaus didn't feel like a lucky boy. Maybe their luck would have ended there.
His fingers trembled as he squeezed the saw for bones, the pressure making his joints pale. Violet's neck was so close, so vulnerable, her pale skin under the cold light of the hospital. He felt a bitter taste rise to his throat. His stomach was turning. But he had no choice.
The blade found resistance at the first touch, then slid inward, cutting the meat with frightening ease. The blood sprouted in a hot and dark torrent, dripping down the sides of the stretcher, staining his fingers, dripping on the floor. Her blood. His same blood. An unbreakable loop being violently destroyed.
Hot tears clouded his vision, but his hands continued the work. The back and forth movement became mechanical, the serrated blade crossing muscles, tendons, cartilage. The bone gave way with a horrible pop, and then, silence.
The audience exploded in applause, the screams of joy echoing through the hall. But Klaus heard nothing but a suffocating ringing in his ears. His chest rose and fell quickly, the metallic taste of horror still in his mouth. He had killed his own sister. And I was grateful, from the bottom of my heart, that Sunny hadn't seen this.
So, he blinked.
The starry sky appeared before his eyes, visible by the bullet hole in the trunk of Olaf's car. His body was stiff, a thin layer of cold sweat covering his skin. He gasped, his heart still pounding in his ribs. His eyes turned to the side, where Violet slept peacefully next to him, the delicate features softened by the stillness of the night.
It was just a dream.
But the tremor in his hands said that, somehow, it was still real to him.
'It was only a few hours' His own mind answered him. Calmly he rubbed his fingers on his face, thin lines of concern have already begun to mark him. Klaus turned his head slowly, his gaze landing on Violet, who slept on his extended arm. Her face was slightly turned to the side, her dark eyelashes resting against the pale skin, her breathing rhythmic and calm, even with the constant movement of the car and Sunny's weight shrunken next to her.
"How do you do it?" Klaus wondered, observing every slightest change in his sleeping expression. How did she manage to rest after all? How could she simply close her eyes and indulge in sleep, as if the world around her wasn't falling apart?
He looked away for a moment, but the memory hit him hard. Her look.
That fleeting moment when Violet woke up from anesthesia.
Was it a shock? Fear?
He didn't know how to identify. It lasted only a second, but it was engraved in his mind as a mark that did not disappear. He tried to put himself in her place.
Imagine waking up, groggy and vulnerable, only to find the person he trusted the most holding a sharp blade against his throat.
The idea was terrifying.
And deep down, Klaus knew that if the roles were reversed, he would never have been able to sleep again.
Violet was so peaceful.
He slept deeply, his face serene, his breathing light and constant, as if nothing had happened. As if she wasn't lying next to her brother who almost killed her.
Klaus felt a tightness in his chest, a suffocating pressure that he couldn't contain. His eyes burned and, this time, he couldn't hold back his tears. They went down, warm and silent, dripping down his face one by one.
"I'm sorry, Violet" Klaus whispered, knowing that there would be no answer. And maybe it would be better that way. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to contain the trembling sob that escaped from his throat.
"I'm sorry..." he repeated, almost without a voice, as if the words could untie the overwhelming weight of guilt.
"Klaus..." Violet whispered, her voice still sleepy Klaus held his breath. Somehow, she had woken up, maybe by the swing of the car, maybe by the muffled sound of her crying. But before he could react, he felt her heat approaching.
Violet blinked a few times, trying to scare away the torpor of sleep, her eyes now focused on him with concern. Without hesitation, she put an arm around him, wrapping him in an instinctive, almost protective gesture. With his thumb, he gently wiped the tears that still ran down his cheek, caressing his skin with a light touch.
"Klaus, it's okay" Violet murmured, her voice now more awake, full of tenderness.
But Klaus couldn't believe it. Not after what he was about to do.
Klaus didn't answer. He just lowered his head, his shoulders trembling under the weight of what he felt. Violet's words were kind, but how could they be true? He saw the terror in her eyes when she woke up from the effect of the anesthesia. He felt the blade in his own hands. He knew what he was capable of.
"You must have been afraid of me..." Klaus whispered, his voice stifled. He could be hurt. He almost hurt her.
Violet watched him for a moment, her brown eyes analyzing every detail of his expression. Then, without hesitation, she pulled him into a hug. Klaus shrank in the familiar heat, smelling Violet, although there was the smell of smoke, it still comforted him and reminded him of why they were orphans, and he let her hold him. Her touch was firm, real, an anchor against the storm in her mind.
"I could have killed you" Klaus whispered in her ear.
"You can't hurt me, Klaus," she said with conviction, moving away just enough for him to see the sincerity on her face. "I couldn't hurt myself at that moment. You can't hurt me now, you won't"
He closed his eyes tightly, denying with his head.
"But I was going..."
"No!" Violet interrupted, holding her face gently, her thumbs tracing smooth circles on her cheeks. "I know who you are. I know that if there was a way to save me without doing that, you would have found it. And you did it, we managed to escape because you got us out of there"
"You who had the idea of jumping the window, you took us out of the building" Klaus replied, he did nothing but run and desperately try to hold a door for Violet to save them.
"And you who took me out of the operating room and turned off the sedation, you were amazing" Violet replied next.
Klaus wanted to contest, he wanted to say that he wasn't sure, that the audience applauded asking him to rip his head off and further destroy the life of the only person he could never lose. But the way Violet looked at him...
"I'm not afraid of you," she said, her voice firm, but gentle.
Klaus wanted to believe.
His body gave way a little against hers, a sob still stuck in her throat. Violet didn't let him go. He just kept him there, holding him as if he was trying to sew all the invisible cracks he carried. And, for the first time that night, Klaus began to breathe a little slower.
The silence between them extended, filled only by the low roar of the engine and the swing of the car against the road. Klaus remained motionless in Violet's arms, his face still moist against the curve of his shoulder. He wanted to get lost there, to believe that maybe she was right. But then, in an almost inaudible whisper, Violet murmured:
"I felt afraid."
Klaus's chest tightened.
He moved away enough to face her, his eyes hurt, devastated. But Violet didn't back down. She held him, her fingers still tracing soft touches against his skin, as if trying to anchor him there, next to her.
"It was just for a moment" she continued, her voice low, intimate, a secret shared only between them. "But it wasn't fear of you. It was what Olaf could be doing to you." Klaus felt something break inside him, a raw pain that he barely knew how to name. He opened his mouth to speak, but Violet stepped forward, her hand sliding from her cheek to intertwine her fingers in his hair.
"I know you" she whispered, her thumb slowly caressing the corner of her lips and cheeks "I know who you are. And I know it was Olaf. He forced you."
"I could never hurt you" Klaus repeated more to himself, the voice hoarse, choked. He closed his eyes, feeling the heat of her touch, the weight of his words taking root in his skin.
Violet smiled, a small, sad, but genuine smile. "I know."
And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against her lips, lingering there, leaving her warm breath against her skin. Klaus closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel alone.
Pain and comfort
Both mixed with each other, like two opposite currents of the same ocean. The fear was still there, the weight of the memories still pressed his chest, but for a moment, Klaus was able to breathe. And that was all he needed. He couldn't hurt her, because he needs her. And if she died, he would go too.
Violet didn't move away immediately. His lips remained close to Klaus's for a moment longer, as if he was waiting for him to absorb what that gesture meant. He felt her warmth, the softness of his breathing mixed with his, and for a moment, everything around seemed to be silent.
But then, Klaus opened his eyes.
The darkness of the car involved them, the road extended endlessly beyond. The engine rumbled softly, and, next to Violet, Sunny slept huddled, unaware of the whirlwind between the two.
Klaus swallowed dryly, feeling a knot get stuck in his throat. He didn't want that moment to end. I didn't want reality to press on his chest again. But I knew they couldn't stay there forever.
Violet, as if feeling his hesitation, touched his forehead, a delicate, intimate touch.
"You need to rest..." she murmured, her fingers still intertwined in his hair.
Klaus wanted to protest, he wanted to say that sleeping meant reliving everything again, but when he met Violet's gaze, he realized he couldn't argue with her. Not when he saw the same tiredness mirrored in his eyes. She was also dealing with that. It was just better to hide.
Slowly, Violet settled down next to him, fitting against his chest, as if trying to offer all the comfort he couldn't find alone. Klaus hesitated, but then gave in, allowing himself to wrap his arms around her.
The silence between them no longer seemed so overwhelming.
The weight of guilt was still there, the fear still clung to him like a persistent shadow. But, at least for now, Klaus could pretend that everything was fine.
And that was enough.
For now