Chapter 1

It was hard to understand what all went through in her head. She entered their lives as an emotionless doll, which made it all the more ironic for her to become one of their dolls, one that required more than a vague touch of emotion. But as these emotions slowly latched onto her, morphing her into less of a hollow shell and more into a human with compassion and an understanding of right and wrong, they became less wary of her ignorance and more worried for her.

Did she understand why the woman came into their shop consumed by grief last week? Did she find no humor in the man with the bubbly laughter who came in yesterday? Did she hold any care for her co-workers-no...perhaps-friends?

When she broke the quiet conversations of the the room with a scream, it didn't matter if she particularly cared for them, because in that moment, there wasn't a soul who didn't care for her.

"Shh, Shh Violet, you're okay."

"Please let go of your arm, you're going to hurt yourself."

"It's just a dream. Nothing's going to hurt you."

These comforting words were accompanied by a tight hug, pulling her shaking frame against a warm body.

"One of her cold mechanical arms was trying to pry her other one off its connection below her shoulder - but it didn't make sense, where was her arm? What happened to her sense of touch? Why did she have this chunk of metal in place of where skin and bone should be? She needed to rip it off, but both sets of arms and hands were metal, not just the one she was trying to rip out of the socket, and the only thing she was accomplishing was ripping her dress sleeve and perhaps causing skin to peel and bleed away from the metal.

The voice resumed talking to her, this time lower, more gently. "Violet, it's all okay. Let go of your arm, you're hurting yourself."

Her silver fingers twitched before releasing the hold. Whoever was holding her so close brought a sense of comfort, a sense of warmth, and the emotion was wildly unfamiliar, but she suddenly craved it. She would follow what the voice said, just so she wouldn't lose it.

"Iris, I need you to grab some bandages. She drew some blood. Erica, please escort everyone else out."

Feet began pounding on the ground, away from her, but they were deafening. A soft voice began talking about the room, but the words were so quiet that they were unintelligible.

...

"Violet..."

Cattleya wanted the blonde girl's attention, but it was proving difficult. Her eyes were glossy, unfocused and swiveling around the room.

"Violet, please can you look at me?"

"I did it..."

That caught the Cattleya's attention. Both of the other girls had returned, but they remained on the outskirts of the other two, suddenly afraid to miss what the poor girl would say next.

"They died." Her arm shot out to her face, hand digging her fingers lightly into skin. "They died - they died-they died she spluttered out, I did it, I killed them I killed them"

"Shhh, it's okay." Her words didn't stop the repetitive mumblings. "Shhh, come back to us, please."

With hesitant movements, she lowered them to the ground. If Cattleya said she weren't freaked out, she would have been lying. The words Violet produced were far from her normal syntax. Her behaviors were far from her normal, reserved self... which already was far from norm.

"Cattleya," Iris mumbled, fidgeting with a roll of gauze in her hands. Her call went unanswered. The thin stream of blood from Violet's shoulder wasn't important at this moment.

"Shhh... shhh, you're okay now."

"I killed them. I killed them all, I don't -" a sob burst past her lips. "I don't deserve to live."

The dam broke, for Violet, for Cattleya, for Iris and Erica because they knew her story, they knew what she had done before she was even aware that her actions were were wrong, and they couldn't imagine living with that knowledge because the guilt would surely eat them alive. And now Violet was more than aware that her past actions were sinful - and it didn't matter to them one bit because that wasn't Violet, that was a girl-turned-weapon by person after person. But it didn't matter to Violet because she knew she had that blood on her hands, and no matter the calm facade she puts on, she couldn't perpetually hide it, not when nightmares could so easily rip the guilt and self-loathing and fear into the waking world.

Cattleya couldn't speak initially past the tears clouding her eyes and the sob stuck in the back of her throat. It became twice as difficult to hold back a downpour of tears when the frail girl in her hold began sobbing. Violet's tears fell upon her chest, warm and heartbreaking.

"You deserve to live. You deserve to be happy."

She brought Violet closer and, without thinking, began rocking, ever so gently. Her own tears dribbled down her chin, dripping into Violet's mused golden locks, but she refused to completely break. She held a little girl enwrapped by the tendrils of a hellish nightmare in her arms, and she couldn't ignore the shaking as hard as she tried. The sobs vibrated against her very chest - so she refused to break when Violet needed this.

...

Such a sweet girl didn't deserve the hand that life had dealt her.

"I don't, I don't - I killed - I killed th-" her last word turned into one long syllable, held out by a forceful sob tearing its way out of her throat.

"Violet, you're a good girl."

"I'm burning. I'm burning, I deserve this -" something was caught in her throat before a sob popped out. "It hurts, I can't take this!"

"She buried her head into Cattleya, and she was granted some comfort, but it wasn't nearly enough to subdue the flames that were consuming her, licking at any grasp of sanity and coherence she had.

"She shoved a finger into her mouth, biting down forcefully on the metal. Instantly, the three other women jumped, afraid she would break her teeth.

"Bite my hand."

"Suddenly Cattleya was pulling Violet's hand away, and the girl complied, shocked by the lack of warm arms holding her. She was greeted with a hand in front of her face.

"its ok, Bite."

She complied, only because her nerves were completely shot, and it helped. She didn't know why, but it helped to bite, and this didn't hurt like the metal of her new hand - but then she was tasting blood. She couldn't release the hand, though. It was far too nerve-relaxing, but she relaxed her jaw, dropping the pressure.

"You're okay, Violet," Cattleya spoke, a grimace on her face. Her hand burned because - what? Because it had been turned into a pacifier?

She would have laughed. Would have - but it certainly wasn't funny, the odd ticks and triggers that came with Violet. But it wasn't her fault that a young lady like her somehow found it relaxing to bite objects, or that a dream in the middle of the evening propelled her into a fit of panic.

What was most bizarre was that none knew the girl suffered with this. Perhaps it was merely exhaustion. She had, after all, recently returned from a long trip away, nearly two weeks in time; and she had fallen asleep in the office, something they wouldn't have expected of her in a million years.

Violet shuddered. Her hold on Cattleya's hand was released, a trail of bloody saliva dripping from her lips as she pulled away.

"I'm sorry."

Cattleya wanted to curse. Violet fumbled with her mechanical hands to wipe the mess from her lips, eyes avoiding the older woman.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened."

She was retreating back into her shell. Her mind had popped out of its trance and allowed her access back to reality.

Cattleya ignored her unneeded apology. Violet was but a girl who needed - deserved - love and care, regardless of the form it came in.

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