A/N: I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one a bit P.O.'ed at the fact that there will be no actual resolution to the Violate story line. All that's left is a WTF, maybe in fifty years when they're both lonely and horny (I mean she did cave to kissing him after a few months, who's to say it won't happen again at some point?). So, I decided to write this little ditty as a possibility. I based it off a song from the Spanish band La Oreja de Van Gogh, which I translated; when hearing this song lately it reminds me of Tate and of Violet, so the fic was created. Cheers to Tate and Violet and the impasse in which we have been left. Hope you guys like it!

My time alone

The years after you fall away &

The garden's leaves have dried

But this way, and only this way, do I know how to live.

Time whistles on by behind me

In front of the wall of the horizon

And this way, only this way, do I know how to live.

I spend dead time alone trying to figure out the light

Dead is the time, dead is my heart

There are no more roads, only trails left in the sea

Of my life drawing its end.

If I could go to you

We'd hold hands, fly together cheek-to-cheek &

I'd tell you that I love you without mercy

If the silence comes for me

Let it catch me thinking of you

Because this way, and only this way, will I ever be happy.

I spend dead time alone trying to figure out the light

Dead is the time, dead is my heart

There are no more roads, only trails left in the sea

Of my life drawing its end.

If I could go to you

We'd hold hands, fly together cheek-to-cheek &

I'd tell you that I love you without mercy

He didn't know how many years had passed, but he did know that what he had told Hayden still held true. He waited for Violet as much now as he had when she had given him the world's most bittersweet goodbye kiss. He had loved the feeling of her lips against his, but wasn't able to fully enjoy the kiss because he knew it would be their last.

Months later when Hayden had told him that Violet wasn't interested in him anymore, his innards almost produced a laugh. It was definitely true that Violet was repulsed by him and hated him with every fiber of her being for all the horrible things he had done, but he always thought that deep down, she must still love him. Otherwise she wouldn't have cared enough to give him one last kiss.

That being said, for her he had done the best he could do to be good. He had confessed his sins, apologized to Chad and Patrick, to Ben and for months tried to apologize to Vivien (eventually, she forgave him). After he was done with his apologies and with being the most courteous he could be to everyone around him (except Violet whom he would always watch from a distance), all he ever did was spend his time alone in the basement.

Alone meant devoid of any company, not just devoid of his love, for he would force anyone else from the basement when he was down there. And what did he do exactly? Thought, and thought, and thought. There was nothing else for him to do-he was living in the prison he had made for himself, and the one that Violet had finally locked him in for good. It was his jail time-no one to talk to, no one to love him back-nothing. All he ever did was think about Violet and the short while that she had loved him entirely. How once upon a time they would lie together just for the hell of it and just to feel their bodies innocently intertwined. He remembered the taste of her lips and the smell of her skin. No matter how much time had passed, she was still, for all intents and purposes his goddess and, being his goddess, meant that he worshipped her with every little bit of his psychopathic body. He worshipped her from afar, like the Greeks worshipped their gods; he thought it was worth it.

Sometimes he thought about disappearing for good. It wasn't like anyone was going to miss him. His mother hadn't been to the house since Ben had died and since she had taken the baby to raise as her own. Beau had other people to play with and Violet-his one true love-simply didn't care to see him anymore. Those he had harmed within the house had forgiven him, but it's not like they ever stuck around him or even wanted to be friends. The only one of the ghosts that pestered him constantly was Hayden and he didn't like her company at all; in fact, he often wished Larry had finished her off in his mother's yard. If he went away permanently, it would be better.

Today was one of the days that he seriously thought about disappearing; for some reason or other, he decided that he was going to go through with it. His body was dead, his time was dead and his heart was on its way to death by devotion. He would let the light, or the darkness, or whatever, take him away from the house to never be seen again. He would let himself be consumed by a higher power (and no he wasn't religious) and let his conscious existence come to an end. There were no more roads to happiness for him and he realized that he didn't deserve them. He wasn't deserving of the perfection that was Violet. That's all that mattered to him after all-Violet and being deserving of her, protecting her. As he got ready to let himself waste away, he decided to write Violet a letter and have Moira give it to her.

He found some paper and a pen, sat down in what used to be their room and got to writing the first and last honest and heartfelt letter, he would ever write.

Dear Violet:

Of all the things that I have done or experienced in my life and my existence, the best thing I've experienced or done has been having your love. After you said your final goodbye to me I was distraught and I still am. I told someone that I would wait for you forever and I will. That promise I keep. No matter where I go and if I'm never seen again I will never stop waiting for you and I will NEVER stop loving you. I don't care if I'm being corny; all I care about is that you're happy. You seem very happy nowadays and I won't ruin that. Those I've wronged inside the house have forgiven me and I feel that somehow you've made me do it and you've made me better. I always have said that you changed me. Don't get me wrong, I still get moments were the darkness wants to eat me up alive and cause more harm than good, but then a small candle flickers inside (a candle that you've made) and ushers the darkness away and doesn't allow it to drown me.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that I'm going to disappear for good. You won't even see a flash of my striped sweater out of the corner of your eye. I'm going to go away forever. It's not the misery that has driven me to it. The misery is actually my best friend these days and the lovesickness that I carry around on my shoulders is the only way I know how to live. I just thought that it would be better if I weren't around.

I thought I should let you know-I'm not exactly sure if you'll care or not but I wanted for you to know. To know that I love you and if an end does come in which I stop having a conscious existence, I will be thinking of you until I can no longer think. That will be the happiest moment for me because the last thing to ever enter my brain is an image of your sweet face and your delectable kiss. Or maybe it'll be an image of making love to you and being completely entranced in your body.

Anyway, I have to go now. I'm going to lie down after I give this letter over and I'll be happy to know that you've at least read it. Remember me or forgive me, whatever makes you happy.

Yours entirely and eternally,

Tate.

As he had planned, he gave the letter to a skeptical Moira. He didn't tell the old maid what he was going to do, but he did tell her that it was a letter telling Violet that he was sorry; she either bought it or took pity on him. After that he went down to the crawlspace. By now Violet's body was a pile of ash and bone, but to him it was still the girl he loved. He lay down next to her, closed his eyes and thought only of Violet.

Violet had been sitting underneath the gazebo when Moira brought her a letter. She asked whom it was from and Moira disdainfully said: "The blonde haired monster sent it to you."

Violet's heart skipped a beat. She hated her ex but she still loved him. Knowing anything from him still set her on edge and, on occasion, made her heart do back flips. She took the letter from Moira's hands and read it for a few minutes.

After she was done, she re-read it to be sure that what she was reading hadn't been created by her imagination. It wasn't, she realized. Tate was really going to permanently disappear. She got this horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach and, throwing caution to the wind, went to find him. If she knew him at all and paid any attention to the contents of the letter, then she knew where he would be. She ran as fast as she could to the crawlspace and minutes later found Tate, seemingly asleep next to the pile of bones that used to be her body. Because she could see him, she knew that he was only sleeping. She did exactly what she knew she shouldn't do: she climbed on top of him and gave him a kiss.

"Wake up, Tate."

But he didn't stir. She placed another kiss on his lips.

"Wake up!"

Another kiss.

"Wake up!"

For minutes she tried waking him up with a kiss but it never did anything. Tate wouldn't stir. Violet feared that he had achieved what he had sought out to do and laid her head on his chest and began to cry. It was the same gut-wrenching, heart stopping painful cry she had emitted when she had told him to go away. After she let herself emit some good cries, she decided that if he wasn't going to wake up by kisses or cries, he was going to wake up through other means. She used all the strength she could muster to sit his body up and remove his sweater. She placed his back against one of the walls and started her assault on his unconscious body.

She kissed his closed lids (hiding the entrancing onyx eyes she hated to love), his nose, his cheeks and finally his delightfully pink lips. She poured her heart and soul into the kiss and then moved on to his neck. Placing not only kisses but also nips and bites to see if he would awaken. Though his eyes didn't open and he made no sound, his penis had definitely revived. She smiled against his skin and then ran her hands all over his chest and then down to his crotch where she rubbed his manhood in hopes that it would be the final thing to wake him up. As her hand dove underneath his underwear to touch him, she finally felt his body momentarily convulse and heard him sleepily say:

"Violet?"

She looked into his dark eyes and said: "Don't go away."

And at those words, he kissed her with all his strength and pushed her on to the ground. There he stripped her of her clothes, teased her until she slapped his arm in frustration and then made love to her. It wasn't like he had remembered; wasn't as sweet and loving. It was a fast frenzy of thrusting bodies that had missed each other. Bruises were formed, flesh was pierced with teeth and some blood even spilt. All the bodily harm was fixed in the end, but their desire for each other, the fixing of their longing seemed not to be extinguished and it didn't seem like it was going to let up for a long time.

Indeed, Violet had been away from her parents and Moira for such a long time that they started to worry. Vivien thought it strange that she hadn't seen her daughter in half a day. She sent Ben out to look for her in the attic and upstairs of the house and she and Moira searched the basement and downstairs. As Vivien walked around the basement, she started hearing heated moans and when she recognized the voices creating said moans, she ran upstairs.

By the time the ghostly teenage couple had finished getting to know each other again, it was nightfall. Tate wrapped his arms around Violet and pulled her closer to him. He whispered in her ear: "Why did you wake me up?"

She kept quiet for a minute, kissed him and replied: "Because if you're going to disappear, I'm going to disappear with you."

He kissed her when she said this and as Violet tasted his blood and honey lips, she was suddenly woken up.

As her eyes opened, she realized that she was still under the gazebo; the daylight was still shining bright and the letter that Tate had written her was lying opened on the lap of her dress. A sudden sense of fear gripped her entire body and she ran to Moira.

"Moira, how long ago did you give me the letter?"

"Oh I'd say about an hour. Why?"

"Shit!"-She ran to the basement. "Tate!"

"Tate!"-She yelled over and over again as she searched for him. She got into the crawlspace and yelled his name again to no response. She DID see Tate's body lying next to her bones but just as she was going to reach for him, he completely disappeared. A gripping cry escaper her-this time for real and it was so loud that her mother ran to her and gathered Violet in her arms.

"Violet, what happened?"

"He's gone, mommy. I won't ever see him again. Gone forever."

"Violet, what are you talking about?"

"Tate. He's disappeared forever. I never got to tell him that I was just starting to forgive him."

Violet then wound up in her old room (Tate's old room) and sat on the floor all by herself. Dead is the time, dead is my heart. Her mind went blank for a while and then all it thought of was the time she had wasted wishing she could be with him instead of being with him. Violet wished that she could see him one more time; that she could go to him and tell him: I love you without mercy. Because there was nothing sweet and innocent about their love; it was built on a foundation of lies. But those lies and that boy were things that made Violet strangely happy and just when she thought she could have them back, she never would. And in a moment of desperation during her time alone, she closed her eyes and felt herself disappear.