Viola's head flopped backwards, the tiniest of smiles gracing her exhausted lips. She deserved that much.

Octavia's eyes drifted to a man newly liberated of Dissonance, involuntary as the act was. Prone against the carpeted aisle, Vincent lay nearly motionless. The rise and fall of his shoulders, soft and even as it was, served as his one true sign of life. On occasion, his fingers twitched. At some point, ice that had once kept him tethered had fled, evaporating in its own right. Flecks of residual frost clinging to his clothes were his only souvenir.

"Is he…okay?" Viola breathed, her half-lidded eyes slowly flooding with fatigue.

Octavia nodded. "He's fine. I promise he's fine."

Josiah pushed himself to his feet, taking his bag along with him. "Everyone else is fine, too. All things considered, this could've gone a lot worse."

"Viola?"

A voice that had called for her before, in the depths of agony, did so twice over. Spared from the pains of Dissonance, untwisted syllables were clear and true. From Vincent's lips again came Viola's name, spoken with such tenderness that Octavia wondered how fragile it was.

With notable effort and trembling muscles, he'd regained his footing, staggering in the process. His hair was unkempt, messy bangs still bothering sorrowful eyes that were clear to see once more. His body was blighted by a frozen assault, either oozing red or caked with the same in any number of places. Beneath tattered fabrics and threads, welts thrived and bruises blossomed in the wake of pelting aquamarine. Even so, wounded or not, his face was aglow. His gaze shimmered. His shoulders were shaking once more.

Viola hardly needed to motion for assistance. Her nonverbal request made enough sense, and Octavia guided her to her feet. Her name upon his lips was enough to leave her eyes wide. Vincent offered her eye contact, and she reciprocated with trembling fingers. Octavia wasn't ignorant to the way by which Viola's eyes flickered to Silver Brevada, still languishing helplessly on the carpet.

He broke into a sprint. She wasn't fast enough. Weak and disoriented, the instrument would've eluded her anyway. It was all Viola could do to brace as her father rushed for her once more, tears plaguing him yet again. Viola's face flooded with fear, and her opened mouth never managed a scream.

Octavia was equally as slow. She was equally as distant from Stradivaria, equally as surprised, and equally as horrified. Even if she lunged for the violin, the amount of time it would've taken to raise the instrument at all would've left her much too late. She couldn't so much as dash between the two Vacantis.

Her only contribution was a cry. "No!"

Josiah, to his credit, tried his best, turning sharply on one heel as he readied a dash of his own. He gritted his teeth. "I thought she got him!"

Viola's hands curled into fists, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her father collided with her in full. It was the most gentle assault Vincent Vacanti could offer.

He threw his arms around her, embracing the girl tightly. One tender, shaky hand came to rest against her hair. Vincent pulled her head close to his chest, pressing his lips against her scalp. His own hair brushed against her bow on the way down, and his shoulders continued to shake. He wept.

"Viola," he murmured, again and again. "Viola, Viola, Viola."

For a moment, Viola didn't emote. She was utterly still in his embrace, hands useless at her sides. Her fists unfurled, and she did what she could to raise her head in his endless embrace.

"Father?" Viola croaked.

Her words left him sobbing ever harder, bitter tears painting her forehead and cascading down her cheeks in turn. "How I've missed your beautiful, beautiful voice so."

Viola didn't speak. Even so, Octavia saw the way her blinks quickened, the way her lip wobbled and her face contorted with pain. Her eyes began to water, slowly filling with tears to match his own.

"My daughter," Vincent breathed. "My sweet daughter."

"Father," Viola answered, her voice cracking instantly.

At last, she returned his love, burying her face in his chest. She tossed her arms around his neck, rising to the tips of her toes to hold him ever closer. He bent down to her level, kissing her forehead tenderly as she cried.

"To have you in my arms again is all I've ever dreamed of," Vincent said, cradling her head. "There is nothing more."

"I missed you," Viola wailed, clinging to the collar of his shirt. "I missed you so much."

"You never came to visit. Were you furious with me? I wouldn't have blamed you, if so. I thought you hated me."

Viola shook her head, her face still buried against him. "I couldn't see you like that. I didn't want to see you in that place. I could never hate you! I'm so, so sorry! I was trying to think of a way to get you out, all this time! A-And after that, I would…I'd…"

He pulled her away for a moment, untangling from their eternal embrace delicately. With his hands on her shoulders, he matched her tearful gaze. "I'm not accusing you of anything, my love. I must atone for what I've done. Even so, know that no matter what walls separate us, my love for you will never be far."

Bitterness ran down her reddened skin, dripping onto her shoes. "I wanted to save you."

Vincent rubbed her head, his fingers rustling the hair that matched his own. He smiled through his tears. "As you have done, my love. I couldn't be more proud to call you mine. Your grandmother has told me you've followed in her footsteps."

"You talked to her?" Viola asked, sniffling.

"Of course," he said softly. "She's told me of the incredible Maestra you've become. Someone has to keep me company."

Even through her sorrow, Viola couldn't stifle a giggle. Vincent smiled.

"There's that gorgeous laugh. You've grown so splendidly. When did my daughter become such an extraordinary and beautiful young lady?"

"I really, really miss you," Viola murmured.

"I'm never far," he murmured back, his voice laced with love. "I want to hear all of your stories, all of your passions, the things that make you laugh and cry. I want to hear of all the people who've made your life what it is."

She gave her eyes, once entrusted to her father, to Octavia instead, coupled with a smile. Octavia hadn't even noticed she was in tears until it was too late, and the revelation was almost embarrassing. She did what she could to smear them with haste against her palms, waving from afar.

"This is Octavia," Viola began quietly. "My best friend."

The title alone made her heart sing. Not crying harder was a challenge. "I-It's wonderful to meet you, Mr. Vacanti."

"Thank you for standing up for me, Octavia," Vincent said. "More importantly, thank you for taking care of my daughter."

"She does not take care of me," Viola grumbled, never doffing her smile.

"Yes I do. She makes me cook all of her meals and tuck her in every night. Sometimes I have to feed her."

"I lied. She's not my best friend anymore. I don't know her."

Vincent laughed--a beautiful sound that, too, reminded Octavia of Viola. "You've surrounded yourself with such wonderful people. I hope the bonds you've made take you far. I look forward to hearing about them, as well. I…want to be a part of your life, too."

Viola rested her forehead against his. "I'm sorry I left you out of it. I'll do better. I'll come visit, I promise."

The second embrace, at least, wasn't enough to bring Octavia to tears again. To her right, Josiah seemed immune to the same sorrowful plight. Still, he wasn't quite immune to a smile, soft and delicate as it was. For a moment, he shared it with her, too. Eventually, it slipped from his face, and she lost what comfort she'd found in his expression. It sharpened. It shifted. His eyes drifted in turn, and they were no longer meant for her.

He turned his attention to those she'd forgotten existed, still helplessly coagulated in a forsaken area of proceedings. Dozens of eyes, confused and bound to silent lips, fell to one boy alone. The pressure in every anxious gaze was palpable as they crashed down onto him. Still, he didn't waver, his confidence aglow.

"It's a disease," he spoke loudly, projecting his voice with surprising skill. "It's uncontrollable. It's mysterious, it's lethal, and we're still learning how it works--how it comes to be. It can't be treated, it can't be stopped, and it can't even be seen under normal circumstances. We are the only cure."

Josiah paused to drink in their reactions, wide-eyed and horrified in equal measure. The sight was satisfying enough, apparently, and he continued. "Now, you've seen it with your own eyes. It's the same as it was those eight years ago. It can't be reasoned with, and it can't be explained. When you're sick, you're not rational. When you're afflicted, you can't help but do horrible things. The agony breaks you."

He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. "You're not immune to it, either. You're not safe. Someday, this could be you. Look at this man and ask yourself if he's the same sick person you saw just moments ago."

If it was a request, it came off as a demand. Every set of eyes flickered between Josiah and Vincent, and Octavia followed along. Josiah stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"When it's over," he said, "you don't remember. If you do, it's not by much. It's like a trance you can't come up from. Stay under long enough, and you'll die. No matter for how long, when you're sick with this disease, you have no control over yourself. If you can't see it, though, people will just think you're insane. In that moment, you are insane."

He shifted his weight to his other foot, cocking his head. "I'm no doctor, but take this as a testimony. You know what you saw. You can't deny what you just witnessed with your own eyes. Keep that in mind when you make your decision. We'll wait."

Octavia winced, particularly given his fixation upon flame-kissed hair and trailing robes. Even relative to the broken order of the courtroom, he was being bold. You're gonna sass the judge? Seriously?

She was glad Etherion was paying attention, even if the tones of his voice were still jarring. I think we have the leverage for it, at this point. We did just save her life. I've earned the right to sass.

You fight Dissonance three times and suddenly you think you're on top of the world.

Octavia watched the way Josiah struggled to stifle a laugh, just barely finding success. I am.

To her credit, disoriented or otherwise, the judge eventually found her words. "D-Does…does either side have any additional witnesses?"

The prosecutor and defense shook their heads in tandem, more than unsettled as they practically clung to the wall. "N-No, your honor."

"U-Uh," the judge stammered, dreadfully opposite of her prior composure, "in that case, the jury may begin their deliberation."

Josiah smirked. Are they even going in order anymore?

Octavia rolled her eyes at him playfully. Would you, after that? I'd just want to go home.

I've wanted to go home for the past hour and a half.

The discussion was hushed, if not overwhelmingly informal. Ten people once so distant throughout her testimony now deliberated of their own accord, words of judgment cast beneath hurried breaths. Not once did Viola or Vincent depart one another's arms, nor did Octavia stop biting her nails. In truth, two minutes to determine the value of a man's life was horrifying.

The entire process was equally as rushed as the rest of the proceedings, and it was one more strange aspect of a trial that already made so little sense. In the same way, she was relieved that the agony of suspense was so quickly dashed. Josiah glaring at each juror in turn the entire time was somewhat comical. Intimidating as he was, Octavia was surprised that the judge didn't call him on it.

One of the ten, just as unremarkably clad as all others, raised her voice at last. The first syllables alone were enough for Octavia's stomach to twist into a knot. A brief glance at Viola found apprehension that matched her own. Josiah, confident as he was, still continued to glare. By this point, leveled with the woman reading the verdict, it was a challenge.

Remember, he offered, everyone already knows he's guilty. This is about how guilty.

Octavia nodded. Right.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"We, the jury," the woman began, her voice wobbling, "having ruminated upon both circumstance and all available evidence, cannot in good conscience recommend that the defendant be put to death."

Octavia could've screamed. She nearly did. The grin that erupted on her face threatened to split her in half, and she cast it at Josiah. His bright smile was a wonderful compensation prize.

I told you to trust me, didn't I?

Viola and Vincent weren't immune to the same joy. Viola's smile far outmatched Vincent's own. It was beautiful. She clung to him ever tighter, and he did the same back. If she could cry out with happiness on their behalf, then, Octavia would've.

"Furthermore."

Octavia blinked. That should've been it.

"After consideration of multiple factors, we of the jury also recommend that the defendant's sentence be adjusted accordingly to fifteen years, by reason of mental disease. This jury also recommends inclusion of the defendant's time previously served in consideration of an amended sentence."

Octavia almost fainted.

Josiah seemed to expect it, albeit not by much. He darted to her side, quickly throwing his arm around her shoulder. Only now did he mirror the explosive grin she'd worn moments before. "There we go," he said.

"You knew?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded, his beaming smile never faltering for a moment. "I figured it might happen. To my understanding, insanity is a hell of an argument. It was a secondary goal. Worked great."

Embracing him was a reflex, and she ignored the way Josiah recoiled under her touch. She was ecstatic by proxy, breathless as her eyes fell to the Vacantis once more. They were outright on their knees, openly sobbing in tandem. They clung to one another so tightly that Octavia wondered if their souls would merge. Tears once bitter upon eyes so similar grew sweet and pure, their unrestrained happiness spilling to the world below. From afar, she could hear their love, so wonderfully affirmed in words of adoration breathed time and time again. They deserved this. Viola deserved this.

The girl's smile, eternal and unhindered, pierced Octavia's heart. It was the happiest she'd ever seen Viola. With everything she had, she fought to capture the sight with her eyes forever.

Prying Vincent and Viola off of one another was an agony that broke the spell of a reunion eight years in the making. Insane or not, he had seven more years with which to atone. Where Viola had exited through the front, safety concerns led Vincent through the back. Strangled by Dissonance as he'd been, the return of shackles wasn't entirely unwarranted. He took it with grace, and he left a smile in his wake. Viola swore to visit. That was enough to keep him warm on the way out.

Josiah's parting comments, calculated as they were, still nearly sent Octavia into hysterics.

By the way, he'd addressed the uncomfortable courtroom, that disease. We're still learning about it, like I said, and we're still learning how it shows up. We do know talking about it in any way is enough to manifest it, though, so I'd be careful about that if I were you. Really mysterious stuff. Of course, that includes bringing up the people who can fix it. Let's all play it safe, okay? We don't want anyone getting sick, now, do we?

They'd all shaken their heads with extreme fervor. She couldn't believe that actually worked, especially given exactly how much fun he'd seemed to have while saying it. Josiah had a point. The sight left little to disbelieve. At the very least, she hoped his logic held up over time.

She finally figured out the backup plan to his backup plan, violet-free as the outside steps were. The stray Maestros standing guard beyond the courthouse had completely slipped her mind. Their faces alone left her smiling.

"Oh my God, finally!" Renato groaned as the doors swung open, arms thrown skywards dramatically. "So? Are they gonna kill him?"

That smile didn't last long. Octavia scowled. "I'm gonna kick you down the stairs."

He cringed. "Sorry! I keep forgetting!"

Sharp wording or not, Viola was still elated. The soft grin dusted across her lips was permanent. "He's safe. They're…gonna let him out."

"Really?" Renato and Madrigal exclaimed in tandem.

Viola nodded. Madrigal beamed. "Right now?" she asked excitedly.

Viola giggled. "Not right now. He still has to serve another seven years, but they…the insanity idea worked. They changed his sentence for the better."

"Josiah's plan went awesome," Octavia praised, her bright smile pointed at the boy in question.

"Yeah, what the hell happened in there, by the way?" Renato asked. "We were hangin' out on the steps, and all of a sudden there's just…whoosh. Purple stuff."

Given the delicate nature of the situation, Octavia hesitated to answer. It wasn't her place. She left it to Viola.

"It…happened again," the Maestra clarified. "He became Dissonant a second time. I don't know why."

Again, the exclamation of surprise was twofold and simultaneous. It was somewhat comical.

"Your father was swallowed by darkness again?" Madrigal cried.

"Were you guys okay?" Renato echoed her cries. "Was everyone okay?"

"It was fine," she offered with a dismissive wave. "Josiah had this…deranged plan that somehow worked. I think he made it up as he went along. It was kinda scary. It worked a bit too well, actually."

"Yeah, I've still got questions about that," Octavia asked, turning to face the boy in question. He only smirked.

"Wait, so…who got him back to normal?" Renato asked.

When Octavia and Josiah's eyes floated to Viola in unison, the other two Maestros repeated the exact same exclamation routine once more. This time, Octavia really did laugh.

"Viola, that's incredible!" Madrigal praised, outright applauding the girl.

"Whoa, but like, with ice? Doesn't that hurt? I feel like that would hurt."

Viola, too, laughed. "I'm just glad everything worked out."

It took a moment for her laughter to settle. She turned to Josiah, averting her eyes for a moment before summoning the strength to meet his own. "I'm…sorry I doubted you. You and your backup plan, I mean. Whatever you had in mind, it worked out really well. You're…really good at thinking on your feet. And you're a great Maestro."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I…don't think I earned that much praise."

Octavia clasped her hands together comfortably behind her back. "What was your plan anyway? I know you said it wouldn't work if you told anyone. Your main plan, the backup plan, all your plans. I'm really curious. It sounds like you really thought this through."

He sighed. When his expression fell blank, it was almost unsettling. "I don't think you're gonna like at least one of these answers."

Viola tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

The eyes of every Maestro in unison fell upon him, and he shuffled his feet against the steps awkwardly. "I want to preface this with the fact that I…knew it would work."

Viola raised an eyebrow. "What, did you kill someone for this or something?" she joked.

He ignored her. "I really did intend to have Octavia testify. That part was true. If that worked, that would've been the end of it. If it didn't work, that was the…backup plan. And that's what ended up having to happen."

"You wanted me to testify to his character, right?" Viola asked.

He hesitated for several seconds. It was just barely long enough for his eyes to grow cold and hard. "I never intended for it to get that far. I just needed everyone to see something."

Viola blinked. Josiah continued. "I said that talking about Dissonance wouldn't help at all. Seeing is believing, though."

Viola's face fell. "What do you…"

"Actually seeing Dissonance up close is much different than hearing about it. From there, it was just passing the sight along," he clarified, flexing the fingers of one hand for emphasis. "Then I just had to rub it in a bit, and there's our insanity argument. That's the gist of it, at least. None of this would've worked if I hadn't figured out the--"

"How did you know?"

Viola's interruption hardly fazed him. Josiah tilted his head slightly, hands sliding back into his pockets. "How did I know what?" he asked, his voice low.

"How did you know he'd become Dissonant?" Viola murmured. Her voice shook slightly with every word.

Distance be damned, the icy gaze he fixed Viola with was radiant. Even from afar, it left a chill seizing Octavia's spine in turn.

"Not seeing your beloved daughter for eight years will do that to you," he said coolly.

Viola's hand moved before her mouth did. She struck him sharply across the face, one open palm smashing against his cheek in an instant. His neck alone jerked to the side, the remainder of his body motionless. He never so much as took his hands out of his pockets. Madrigal gasped.

"Hey, chill!" Renato shouted.

Octavia wasn't immune to the same. "Viola!" she warned.

"You're horrible," Viola growled, every syllable dripping with ire.

To Octavia's extreme surprise, Josiah only gave her a soft smile. "I know. I'm not a good person. I deserved that."

Viola hadn't lowered her violent hand, five fingers still splayed wide aloft. Her breath rattled with each exhale, her eyes narrow as she glared venom into his soul. "But you're smart," she muttered at last. "You're clever."

He pressed one palm against his cheek, slowly reddening from the force of the blow. "Again, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't know it would work. I did this for you. I'm sorry to have put you through that."

Viola closed her eyes, reclaiming her arm at last. "Thank you. For…doing all this for me. I'm…really happy to have you as a Maestro by my side."

He stiffened somewhat. "Really?"

Aggravated or not, she somehow still found a smile. "You're already a natural. You're gonna be great. You already know all of your strengths, and you complete our little legacy set. Your gift is…kind of terrifying, but it has its uses, apparently. It's a huge help having you around. I'm looking forward to seeing you grow."

He paused. Then, he returned a smile far weaker. "I…appreciate it."

"Thank you guys for sticking around, too," Octavia offered sideways, her attention given to two different Maestros altogether. "Sorry to put you on clean-up duty again."

Madrigal saluted dramatically. "The forces of darkness will never roam free in this city, so long as we're here! Or anywhere, really!"

Octavia laughed. When her amusement passed, curiosity was a reflex. She couldn't help the way her eyes drifted to Madrigal's left in slow silence. Prying eyes descended into cherry oak hands in search of more of the same. She did, in fact, find one slice on either side. She didn't bring it up aloud, and yet she enjoyed the warm smile that bubbled to her lips.

"Stariiiing."

Renato's voice was more or less in her ear. She hadn't even noticed he'd leaned in so close. Octavia jumped in both surprise and embarrassment alike, crossing her arms defensively.

"S-Sorry," she stammered. "I just…was wondering. Did you…you know…this time?"

His brilliant grin gave the answer her heart was hunting for. "Hell, yeah, I did. And it felt good. Real good."

She wished she could match him with a grin just as bright. Even if she couldn't, she still did her best. "I'm so happy for you. I mean it."

"Felt awesome to be back in action again," Renato went on. "Sucks that Maddie and I didn't get it all to ourselves, though."

She blinked. "What?"

"He won't come up the damn stairs. He's bein' shy."

One drumstick, lazily pointed towards the bottom of the steps, trailed all the way down to a visage forsaken for far too long. She earned his back instead of his face, recognizable all the same. Octavia resisted the urge to rush to him, by which she'd steal the steps two at a time to offer him nothing at all. Whatever she had would be awkward, if not devoid of merit.

He was a magnet for her by his presence alone, and she'd already begun the descent. She'd figure it out when she got there. Viola echoed her every step with equal haste the moment her gaze fell to the same place. Her steps might've been faster. Neither Maestra had the courage to call out his name.

It wasn't until their feet touched the street once more in unison that either one made an attempt. Octavia beat Viola to it.

"Harper."

He didn't budge, momentarily. "Is he with you?"

Octavia flinched. "What?"

"If I turn around, am I gonna see his face?"

"No," Viola answered. "They…took him out through a back exit. He's headed back to the prison."

"Okay," the boy breathed. Only now did he offer them his face, turning in full. It hardly helped. His eyes were empty, his expression blank.

"How did it go?" Harper asked quietly.

Octavia winced. "It…uh…it was a lot. We didn't--"

He raised one palm in a plea for peace, stifling her words. "It's okay. I already know something happened in there. You don't have to tell me if it's too much."

Instead, he turned to Viola. "What did they decide?"

She stiffened. "They're not gonna give him the death penalty. And they're…going to let him out in a few years."

The tiny hum of disconnected surprise that left Harper's throat didn't match with his stagnant eyes. "Really," he said, hardly a question.

Viola nodded, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Yeah."

Octavia watched him struggle to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. He was just barely successful, the absolute faintest excuse for a smile ghosting his lips. Once more, it didn't pair well with his hollow gaze. "I'm happy for you."

Viola fought to give him a genuine smile back, strained as it was. "Thank…you."

"They said you helped," Octavia interjected quickly. "Renato and Madrigal, they said you helped with the Dissonance that came out of the courtroom."

Harper nodded, every trace of a false smile gone. "Yeah. I…came to check in. Wanted to wait for you. It showed up. I helped. Nothing special."

Viola drew closer to him. "It…means a lot to me. That you helped, I mean. You didn't have to do that."

"I'm here for you," he said suddenly, stronger. "Not for him. I told you, I'll do whatever I can for you. I'm…glad you're safe."

Those words, if nothing else, sounded like him. When Viola reached for him, he didn't resist. He pulled her close, pressing his face to her hair much like her father had done with love just minutes before. Harper really did smile--a true smile, muted as it was.

"I don't deserve you," Viola murmured. "Thank you."

Harper stroked her hair softly with his fingertips, running them through the thick, black waves she'd stolen from Vincent. "Let's go back. Let's put this behind us. It's done and over with."

Viola nodded against his shoulder, pulling back at last. When she freed him from her embrace, she answered with a nod. "Yeah. I…wanna go home. Together."

He nodded in turn. Viola went first, and a glance beyond her shoulder confirmed a Maestra in her wake. Octavia, too, cast her eyes up the stairs. A Soulful departure had left yet more Maestros descending to the street below, unhurried as they were. She took her time. So did Harper. Harper took more than her, really, and every attempt to walk at his side left him lagging behind with hushed footsteps.

"You okay?" she finally asked.

He smiled softly, nodding. "I'm fine. I'll…be fine."

She was quiet for a moment. He was still slow. Viola was ahead of them by a notable margin, the slight exuberance in her step more than visible. "Can I ask you something?"

Harper tilted his head. "What's up?"

"And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Yeah."

Octavia fidgeted with the hem of her dress anxiously. "Did you…really want her father's sentence to be changed back?"

He didn't answer her at all. She didn't need to be concerned about his walking speed anymore, at least, for how he overtook her altogether. In moments, she was at his back. Octavia feared she'd offended him, at first. She was halfway towards fumbling the apology bubbling to her lips when he beat her there, his face stolen from her.

"Octavia?"

She tensed. "Yes?"

Harper paused. Even beyond her, Octavia caught the softest of sighs.

"Sometimes I'm really glad our gifts weren't switched."

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