continued from here with @whiitevioliin
“Me?” Vanya repeated in disbelief, both eyebrows raised while her mouth hung open a bit. She was kidding, right? For as long as she could remember, number seven had been left all of their father’s reindeer games, her powers suppressed and emotions numbed by pills. She’d been told she wasn’t any more than ordinary, and her siblings stole the spotlight in both Reginald’s and the public’s eyes. “Dad worshipped all of you.”
“ And why is it my fault what Dad did? ” Allison spit back. Being Number Three wasn’t easy either. None of the brothers had been loved, cared for, or helped. But Vanya sometimes faulted them, when they were kids just like her. “ You act like missions were the only important thing, and when I tried to spend time with you in our weekly hour of free time... You wouldn’t look at me. ” She sighed, tired. Allison didn’t wanna fight, but sometimes she was tired of being the one to blame. With Patrick, with Luther, and now Vanya. “ Dad never loved us. He only used us. How can you say he worshipped US when he gave you Mom’s violin? When you could have free time, and play music, and be safe? BEN DIED FOR FUCK SAKE. ” Allison couldn’t help but scream that last part, but regretted it instantly.