A/N: Back...sorry about that delay, guys. By the way, the perfect Violate song is "Like Sugar" by Matchbox Twenty

Tate froze when people came up to the attic and he willed himself to disappear. He needed to get to basement where Thaddeus was. There, he would be safe for a little while. But Beau, with his mental delay, wouldn't be able to get out of there in time and Tate couldn't leave his brother. Beau had enough people leaving him to last him a lifetime.

So Tate said those words that would shatter his poor little brother's heart. "Go away, Beau!" he ordered, squeezing his eyes shut. He disappeared and made his way to the basement.

"Tate, what's wrong?" Nora asked once he made it there. Tate looked up at the sound of thundering footsteps.

"It seems one of the twins discovered Tate and his brother in the attic. Beau still doesn't exactly understand when to disappear yet," Moira explained patiently. Tate looked around desperately for Beau. He couldn't have banished his brother from his side...could he? "He can't come near you until you call him back."

"Beau?" he called tentatively. A quiet rattle of chains in the corner alerted him. "You can come back now."

Beau let out a quiet sigh, the dim basement light illuminating an utterly heartbroken look in his dark eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Beau. I had to get you out of there so I could save you. Those people might have wanted to hurt you," Tate explained, bending down on his knees. He felt around for a ball and found his dented yellow truck.

Beau didn't budge when Tate slid the truck toward him. "Tay?" he said in his garbled speech. "Go 'way?"

"Not anymore, buddy," Tate assured him. Finally, the truck came rolling back towards him and he felt a smile of relief spread on his face. They were family; they had to stick together. It was just him and Beau there of his family, besides Hugo. After Tate learned the truth about his father, he couldn't stomach being in the same room as him. As far as Tate felt concerned, Beau was the only family he had left. Addie was dead and on the other side and Nathan was somewhere else doing God knows what. Constance was a bridge he had burned long ago.

"I know I saw something up in the attic, Taylor! If you don't believe me, they might be in the basement, too!" a voice from upstairs said. Vivien looked at the basement door nervously.

"I don't like this at all. They might have to leave sooner than expected," she commented. The door opened and the blonde girl in question came down the stairs. "Let's hope we can at least save the girl. No one should have to go through what she's going through."

"Will, Wayne, come down here and see for yourself...there's nothing down here!" she said in exasperation. She crossed her arms over her chest, challenging whoever was down there. Tate watched silently from the shadows while Taylor held out her arms. "Come on, whoever you are! If you're down here, show your smug faces!"

"You don't want to do that," he finally said. Taylor spun around, fixing him with wide blue eyes. "There are a few spirits here who might take that as a challenge. And they're not very nice."

Run away, Taylor. Don't challenge these spirits...Thaddeus...Patrick...Chad...they'll all hurt you, he thought. Once upon a time, he would rank himself as the most vengeful spirit in the house. Now he didn't feel a senseless need to hurt everyone he met.

"Who the fuck are you?" Taylor demanded, her eyes flashing like blue fire. Tate snorted and stepped into the dim basement light.

"Someone who is probably the only friend you have at this very moment," he replied. He heard a scuffle of someone behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see Nora behind him, holding baby Jeffrey in her arms.

"Did you scare my step-brothers?" Taylor asked, narrowing her eyes accusingly. This was why Tate didn't usually interact with the residents of the house, especially the girls, save for Violet.

"Unintentionally," he responded. He saw Moira standing on the steps, lips pursed in disapproval.

"Miss Taylor, I've prepared your tea," she informed her. The blonde glanced towards the stairs before nodding her assent to Moira and made her way towards them.

"I want you ghosts out of this fucking house," she snarled. Tate snorted.

"Look, if we had a choice, we'd be on the other side already. All of us. None of us wanna be here," he returned. When Taylor stomped up the steps, he heard someone behind him.

"What a bitch. Think she could use a therapist or a consensual lay?" Hayden sneered. Tate curled his lip in disgust. God, the ghosts were such losers. "You should knock her up, Tate...maybe a baby would do her some good."

"Of all the people in this goddamned house, I think I like you the least. You're above the ass bandits...congrats," he threw back. He looked over at Beau, who stared at him sadly. The only person who wanted him around and one of the few he actually liked in return. "Come on, buddy...let's go back up to the attic."

Violet sat in the living room, curled up on the sofa with Jeffrey in her arms. Some boring soap opera was on, but there was nothing else on TV. To make matters funnier, it was all in Spanish.

"You've loved those ever since you were a little girl," Vivien commented next to her. Violet glanced up before a smirk flickered on her lips.

"I like to make up what happens," she explained. Jeffrey slept soundly in the crook of her arm and despite herself, Violet craned her neck down and kissed his downy head. Even though he was dead, he still had that sweet baby scent.

Making up scenarios for Spanish soap operas was a past-time she once shared with Tate. She banished him from her side and now he kept his distance. This time, he stood in the car port, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

Jeffrey stirred beside her and Violet shifted her body to not wake him up. Her mother scooped him up into her arms, her body automatically curving to the baby's nestling form. Violet watched her intently. How did Vivien know exactly how to shift, how to tune in to how he fussed, whether he needed a nap, a diaper change, or a bottle?

When the credits rolled, Violet stood up from the couch to find something to do. No one was home, save for Lydia, who was sick today, so she couldn't even break the silence using Taylor's horrible music (she'd discovered some stupid modern-day boy band and played their CD on loop for hours on end) or with the twins' shitty rap music. Thank God Halloween was coming up. Violet decided she would get out and do something.

Her finger trailed over her laptop keys in her old room and she opened Pandora. The sound of Matchbox Twenty's 'Like Sugar' began playing through the alternative station and her lips moved to form the lyrics of the song.

I'm walking behind you
Calling the way you
Give away all your secrets
You're taking the high road
And picking your battles
Just the day I found you

I just wanna make you go away
But you taste like sugar
Yeah, you taste like sugar
I just wanna make you go away
But you taste like sugar
Yeah, you taste like sugar

I'm starting to want you
More than I want to
This ain't my finest hour
There's something about you
That I could get into
Something that's deep inside you

After that verse ended, Violet quickly exited the window and shut her Macbook. She shook her head, her dirty blonde hair flying in front of her eyes.

God, she needed to get a fucking grip before she psyched herself into the next century. Violet went down to the basement to play with Margaret and Angie. They sat around a little white plastic table, pretending to pour tea in cups, Travis between them. With Jeffrey sleeping, there really wasn't anything to do.

She could probably torment Chad and Patrick, but that only kept her busy for a little while and Scrabble by herself didn't sound very appealing. Chess with her dad was a lost cause because Ben was too damn good.

"Tate?" she said finally. There was a scuffle behind her and she saw him standing next to her.

"You're not gonna make me go away again, are you?" he inquired softly. She looked up at him and shook her head.

"We're in this together, Tate," she murmured.