TROUBLE! ━ TASM.

five.

Like he had promised, Peter walked Violet home, the two walking with their arms brushing. She knew it was because he wanted to catch her if she fell or suddenly doubled over in pain, but it was still a nice gesture. Wanting to be seen as normal to any bystanders, she kept her steps as straight as possible. At first, they were painful and strained, but after a while she didn't even realize the pain, especially since it had subsided to a dull stinging.

When they arrived at her house, she stopped him with a hand in front of his chest, moving to stand in front of him. "I don't need a walk up to my door, Romeo, I've stepped foot in there countless of times."

"Will you be okay with no one there with you?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowing ever-so-slightly as he took a glance at her house, large and dark gray, before right back at her.

His concern made her smile, and she gave him a friendly punch on the bicep. "One hundred percent. If not, I have your number, and I know the number that is 911," she taunted, "so I think I'll be okay."

The look on Peter's face told her that he didn't believe her, but she didn't give him time to respond, turning on her heel and making her way towards her front door. Violet could feel his eyes burning into her back as she took hesitant steps up the stairs leading up to her house, but she didn't turn back as she pulled her keys out of her pocket, unlocking her front door. Turning around to give him one final wave and a smile, she took a step into her house before shutting and locking the door behind her.

Immediately, the area didn't seem right. Her house wasn't quiet, as it normally was with her mother always working, but she could hear hushed whispers coming from down the hallway of the foyer. She took slow steps, not really sure why anyone would be in the house other than her or her mother. "Mom?" She called.

The hushed whispers only increased after her call, before her mother's voice finally rang through the empty corridor. "In here, Violet!" Violet. Government name. Not the usual, sweet 'honey' or 'dear' that she used to sweeten the idea of being gone all the time.

Something was definitely up.

And it wasn't until she turned the corner that Violet realized what it was, and suddenly she couldn't think about the pain in her side, or how she'd explain not being at school, or how she was going to catch up on her schoolwork while still being drowned in so much when she got back to her studies.

Sitting one seat away from her spot at the table and one seat from her mother's was a man with broad shoulders and salt and pepper hair. It fell just over his forehead, just shy from falling over his deep, green eyes, which noticeably shone with a hint of concern. No, forget a hint. He was visibly nervous, his leg starting to bounce, his heel starting to tap annoyingly against the wood paneling of the floor.

Anybody glancing at the man sat at her table, adorned in normal man clothing of a red button-up, denim jeans and beat-up red sneakers, would think he looked nice, and friendly.

But, to Violet, the man sitting in front of her was dead to her.

"What the hell?"

Sean Beckett, if that was still his last name, stood up the minute his daughter spat out the first words, his hands going out in front of him in a cheesy 'come in peace' gesture. "Now, Violet, I know how confusing this is. Please, sit down, don't make a big deal out of this." As if she would cheerily agree and sit down, he pulled out the chair beside him, gesturing to it with one of his outstretched hands. It was funny, how the other one stayed up, as if Violet would grab a knife from the kitchen and expertly toss it at him in any second.

Gee, did she sure feel like it.

For the past seven years of her life, Violet had assumed her father was missing, or dead. She had heard her mother's calls to the police, had heard her quietly sobbing in her room when she thought Violet was asleep, had had the hard talk with her mother about how her father wouldn't be around anymore, and how she needed to be strong in this time. Although a bunch of questions still lay in her mind about what had happened, over time the loss of her father wasn't much, not compared to what she now had to focus on in her teenage years.