innocence - AHS ✓

episode two.

—This chapter will be much shorter than the first. I'm adding this in while I'm currently a little over 2,500 words and 23 minutes into the episode, whereas the last chapter was nearly 10,000 words by the end. I doubt very seriously that I'll make it to that again, or in later chapters, but that is only because I won't be focusing as much on the rest of the family drama. Of course there will still be plenty about the other Harmons, just not nearly as focused on them as it was in the first.—

Sitting up on her bed that morning, Rosaline was overcome with a sense of sadness. Her bare feet meeting the cold wood of the floor of her bedroom as she walked to the bathroom that was calling her name. She was getting better at telling where exactly the garbled voices were coming from, even if it was impossible to understand what they were saying. Stepping into the bathroom, Rose stepped over to the bathtub and looked down into it, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again, seeing an overweight woman laying in the tub filled with water, wearing a white nurses' uniform.

"I'm sorry. You were beautiful." Rosaline said, reaching down and stroking the woman's cheek before moving to unplug the drain, allowing the water that had filled to drain before exiting the bathroom.

Walking down the staircase, Rose stopped in front of the doors to her father's office, looking inside at the slightly distorted image of Tate sitting silently on the couch. When the sound of Ben's phone vibrating on the table next to him distracted her father, Tate turned his attention to the door, mildly surprised to see Rosaline standing there before giving her a distorted smirk and turning his attention back to her father.

"So, what do shrinks think about when a wildly brilliant patient doesn't talk to punish said psychiatrist? I bet you think about sex." Tate said, staring blankly at Ben as he spoke.

"Do you think about sex a lot?" Ben questioned Tate flatly, staring at the young man with an expressionless face.

Tate nodded in response, seemingly pleased with the reaction he knew he was about to get.

"I think about one girl in particular. Your daughter. I jerk off thinking about her. A lot." He said, staring Ben Harmon in the eyes, watching as the man's upper lip twitched and his gaze hardened.

"I'm not comfortable with you talking about my daughter, Tate."

"Don't you wanna know what I do to her? Or which one it is I imagine? How I lay her down on the bed, and I caress her soft skin, make her purr like a little kitten? Your precious, sweet little girl. She's a virgin. They get wet so easily." Tate said, a smile playing at his lips as he spoke to the psychiatrist, watching the man's eye twitch, just a bit. But it was enough.

It was all Ben could do to keep from lunging at the young man across from him, and instead, the grip on the pen in his hand tightened. "Do you turn to these thoughts to comfort yourself in times of stress?" Piece of shit.

Tate couldn't help the twitch his lip gave in satisfaction. Caught you. "Actually, yes. I jerk off a lot to make the visions go away. The blood and the carnage. I want the thoughts to go away, and you're not helping me."

"Well, we've only been working together a few weeks now." At this, Tate couldn't help but snicker.

"Well, you're sexual, right? Violet told me about the affair with the girl in Boston. Not much older than your kids, she said." Tate mentioned, watching as the man fiddled with the pen in his hand unknowingly. Bingo.

"Our time is up."

"Bullshit. I don't accept that."

"Our time is up for today, Tate." Ben repeated himself, keeping his voice calm and even as he spoke, staying seated even as Tate stood up and grabbed his brown leather messenger bag in one hand and walked out of the home office.