a u : the day that wasn't. it was.

[cem]

[ You don't expect your life to shatter when there's a Yankee Candle burning apple pie in the background. The smell is still in Vanya's nose miles later, run right out of Leonard's house in sweats and socks without ever looking back. She can't. She can't even think right now, not to her feet and the blisters to come, not to call a taxi instead of looking like a crazy person pelting through town. Everything awful and lonely and heartbreaking about it aside, the only thing she can think of is the Academy. Home. She has to get home. Pain tears at her side with each breath she takes but she doesn't slow down. Doesn't loosen the death-grip she keeps on the red notebook clutched against her chest. Not until she's staggering up the familiar steps and practically falling through the door. Please, please, please let someone be home. Diego's in the foyer, Mom dainty at his side with gloves on and a parasol tucked under here arm, arguing with Klaus, sweat-slick in an army surplus vest and half-bent over for the chair tied to his back. The heated words cut short in the wake of Vanya's arrival, an expectant silence as she tries to gulp down air. She has to— There's— Patience was never Diego's strong suit and it still isn't, glaring at the interruption. Already told you once, he glowers. Get out of here. Mom frowns in disapproval, slim fingers tugging at Diego's elbow as she quietly scolds him for being so rude to his sister. Diego doesn't blink, just pats her hand gently and goes back to grilling Klaus. You guys⁠— Vanya pleads, heart pounding in her ears and she can hear it. She hears it. Diego's already said his piece, case closed, and so ignores her entirely. At least Klaus has the grace to actually turn and face her when lifting his one free hand to his lips to shush her. No, please, something's⁠— Vanya holds out the book for proof, for all the words still jumbled inside her that she can't sort out yet. Diego snatches it out of her hand just long enough to glance at Archibald's monogrammed initials before tossing it away in disgust. He doesn't even look at Vanya. A surge of anger rises within her, picks her up and carries her away and for one white-hot moment Vanya lets it. LISTEN TO ME!! The words burst out, so loud that she hardly recognizes her own voice, accompanied by a spasm of energy that ripples through the air⁠— Cracking windows, rattling the doors on their hinges, blasting Diego and Klaus right off their feet to skid on the tile to the foot of the stairs. Vanya's hands clap over her mouth as thunder rumbles directly above the academy, followed by a sudden pelting rain. For a long, long minute, it's the only sound there is as Diego and Klaus stare at their sister as if she's just grown a second head. As if she'd started speaking in tongues. As if she'd suddenly showed actual powers after almost thirty years. All righty then, Klaus finally says. You have our attention.. ]

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[deadlycurves]

"But- you- what?" He still can't quite process what he just witnessed. He blinks and pushes himself to his feet, still staring at his sister like she'd just grown three extra heads. And she may as well have, for all that little display had blown every single thing he'd ever known about her out of the water.

[cem]

Vanya's mouth opens to say it again but the words don't come out. Nothing does save a quiet, croaking noise and she could swear she sees the sound waves skittering out of her mouth to bounce around the room. Maybe she can. Her eyes screw shut to make it stop but that just makes her ears sharper, more aware and there's no getting away from any of it anymore. It's all around and inside her and waiting like a storm about to break all over again and she can't run anymore, not even if her muscles weren't screaming bloody murder.

All she can manage is wrapping her arms around herself, tight, blunt fingernails digging into her arms even through the fleece (it smells like him, shit, she wants to scrub her skin off to get rid of the smell) as she stares over at the book Diego just tossed.

Mom is already across the room to pick it up, heels clicking on the marble floor. Now Vanya, she scolds gently, you know you're not supposed to go through your father's things. The silence rings out for a good minute before the maternal disappointment smooths itself out. Who wants hot cocoa?

[deadlycurves]

"Not right now, Mom," Diego responds, almost reflexively even if distractedly, as he pushes himself to his feet. He's still staring at Vanya like she'd grown an extra head, although it's... sort of? trying to reconcile in his head. Vanya was one of them. Like. Really one of them, all this time, because of course she was, and of course Dad had them shun her and lied to all of them about it. Probably just another of his longer-term experiments for whatever reason. Something to do with the social aspects of powers and normalcy. Whatever. "Well... Vanya, we're all listening."

[cem]

Diego is still gaping and the scrutiny makes her want to sink into the floor and disappear. Then again that isn't totally fair. There isn't anything about tonight that doesn't make Vanya want to stop existing— Now, an hour ago, five years ago, the day she was born, any and all good exit points if she'd had anything to say about it. If only.

But that's not what Diego is waiting to hear, not what she needs to say now. How can she say any of this? She can't. She has to.

"He knew. He knew all along that..." She stops herself, throat closing as she realizes— She has to specify. There's more than one now that's played her for a fool, a test subject to toy with and observe and lie to. Her voice breaks but, Vanya forces the words out around a sob. "Leonard. He had the book, in his house, he only ever wanted to. T- I don't know what he wanted, but."

Whatever it was, it wasn't her. A deep dark voice in her chest sneers at the idea, at how stupid she was to think anybody would ever, could ever want just plain boring old Vanya. Mockingly replays Allison's concerns and her own defensive insistence that she knew what she was doing. That he cared. That she was finally special to somebody.

Her eyes ache along with the rest of her now as she blinks back tears. She doesn't want to hear Diego's exasperation at best, mockery at worst for not being able to finish a simple debrief. Vanya clings to that thought, helps keep her from flying into a hundred thousand pieces.

"I found the book and everything it was saying and I just. I just came here."

[deadlycurves]

It takes a moment or two for Vanya to find her voice, but once she does, so much information comes pouring out and it's all a little... much. Not quite what he'd been expecting to hear and the only cohesive thought in his head for a moment is the very non-eloquent, "Shit." that comes out of his mouth after a second. "Does he know you found it? Did you get into an altercation with him about it?" He's a little too shell-shocked to do anything but play runner-up for leader at the moment. He's not sure where Luther is, but in lieu of him, it's up to Diego to make the necessary calls in situations like this.

[cem]

It feels like filing the world's most disjointed police report, putting a puzzle together with razor-edged pieces, and a small irrational part of Vanya is amazed that Diego hasn't snapped at her for giving better answers yet.

"No." She shakes her head. "No, I found it and I took it and. I ran here. Didn't even... My shoes are still there." Then it hits her and there's no way she can stop from crying now, a gulp of air caught in her throat. "My violin's—"

She'd gone straight there after the audition the other day, had never gone home after, and tonight she hadn't even had time to think before her feet carried her away. The case is still there in the den, on the couch, where she can't even begin to imagine going back. Burying her face in her hands, her shoulders curl under the pressure as she sobs.

Objectively, she knows it's stupid. Knows her brothers and sister would point that out just as readily. But it's the only decent part of her and those first tears are just the initial break that everything else bottled up in her needs to come spilling out.

[deadlycurves]

"Okay, so we'll--" but whatever he might have been preparing to say is kind of cut short by the suddenly crumpling, sobbing sister in the middle of the foyer. He blinks and glances around-- he really is not the best option to handle this, but...

"Why are you crying?" Probably not exactly the right or best way to go about it. But it's all he's really got.

[cem]

At first all she can manage is to shake her head, unable to do or be anything but a crying mess on the floor until she hears the windows begin to rattle again. God. She has to stop. She can't. She must.

"M-muh..." Vanya's voice stutters, almost ribbiting as she gulps down air and orders it to stay. Forces the words to come out in a semi-coherent string instead of falling apart like everything else. Shit, her eyes are aching now to join the rest of her. "My vio-" Another hiccup. "-lin. I l-left it. At his house."

And a sudden, violent revulsion has her tasting bile in the back of her mouth. The thought of Leonard even touching her bowstrings, the fingers she'd let touch her, that she'd wanted to touch her, is enough to make her want to vomit for the rest of the year and then some. But the thought of going back is just as impossible, too tangled in panic and disgust and shame to even consider.

[deadlycurves]

Diego is bad at waiting, but he tries. It's easier, when she trips over her words in a way too viscerally familiar to him, to be patient. The way he thinks he remembers her being with him, before, when they were kids and he got stuck on certain words.

That isn't to say he's replaced by a more understanding person, completely, though, because all that he comes up with to say when she finally gets it all out is:

"Can't you just get another one?" He can't fathom going back just for that.

[cem]

Well. At least one good thing comes out of Diego's trademark bluntness. It stuns Vanya clear out of her hysterics, too aghast at the idea of replacing her violin to do anything but stare. Sure, she knew her family never cared about her music. She'd just braced herself to hear as much, didn't she? But even so she never thought— Not that.

(She knows Diego would lose an eye before his knives but she'd still bet all the money in her pockets that he'd...okay, break more bones than usual finding them and then probably double compound fracture for whoever suggested "just moving on".)

Eventually she shakes her head — at Diego's suggestion, at herself for expecting anything different, to do something to clear the last of the roar in her ears — and presses knuckles to her eyes until she sees stars. They ache about as much as the rest of her and the floor isn't helping anything. Not that she knows what will help but. Vanya probably won't find it down here so she slowly pushes herself up onto shaky feet, swallowing through all the different kinds of pain and pushing them up onto a shelf for later.

"Where's Luther?"

[deadlycurves]

He doesn't know what else she might have expected from him. He doesn't understand the sentimental connection she has with that particular violin-- an instrument is an instrument, isn't it? There's a tightening in his jaw, at the question, a natural reaction at being so obviously passed over, like he can't deal with whatever she's planning on his own. "I'm not his keeper," he snipes.