Disclaimer: I do not own AHS.

A/N: Hi, everyone! Here is the new story to the alternate ending of Dear Father, just as promised. Just a heads up, this story will be very different and a bit much more raw than my other DF related fics so please enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, I may or may not be working on a Freak Show based fic.

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It's a Wonderful Life

CH 1- Paris

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BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

1972

He ambled through the darkness of Briarcliff's dreary corridors, lost and in search for his mother. He had searched for what felt like hours but he did not find her. He did not reach her in time.

Johnny Winters sniffled as he came to a stop. He came to a dead end. On his right was a dark corridor, to his left, was another. The boy looked from one to another and a devastated cry escaped him. He didn't know where to go. He didn't know what to do.

He had failed her.

Johnny slumped against the wall and dropped to the floor. He hung his head. Tears dripped down his cheeks and onto the cold concrete ground. He sniffled, bringing his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his arms. His mother's name escaped in a whisper along with an apology.

He wanted nothing more than to find her. He felt as if it all was his fault. He had brought her such misfortune. It was a heavy cross to bare for a seven-year-old. And the boy did the only thing he could do- he wept. He had searched the building high and low but had become lost in the deceiving darkness that sent him wandering down all the wrong paths.

The boy sat there, with his head hung, and the tears running down his flushed cheeks. By the time the sun rose, he still remained there. And it was when the sun rose that his father realized he was gone. Johnny didn't care. All he seemed to care about was the mother he had lost.

"Johnny?" The familiar voice called down the corridor.

Johnny didn't answer. He didn't budge. He had given up.

"Johnny!"

No answer.

He knew he should have gotten up to hide but he didn't. He just sat there and waited for the man to find him.

When Oliver Thredson came upon the boy, he found him seated on the floor, against a wall, between two different corridors. His face was buried in his arms and his knees were to his chest. He wasn't far from the room where Jed Potter had been exercised and killed. It was almost like a dim memory to Oliver.

Oliver stopped inches from the barefoot boy. "Johnny." He repeated his son's name in a soft tone. He didn't want to come off as angry for having wandered off.

Johnny's body stiffened when he heard his father's voice so close to him.

Oliver looked upon the boy, his legacy. He was all he had ever wanted. His own flesh and blood. How could he be angry with him? The boy could never do wrong in his eyes. Even when Lana had turned his own son against him. It wasn't the boy's fault. The boy didn't know any better. The boy was innocent.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Oliver asked in that soft, reasoning tone that once fooled Lana into trusting him.

Johnny didn't answer. He only tightened himself further into his shell.

"Did you get lost?"

When there was no answer. Father and son remained in silence for a moment. Oliver didn't know how he was going to coerce Johnny out of all the beliefs that Lana had inflicted upon him. She had done a lot of damage to their son, or so he believed. Oliver had his hands full with the boy but he knew that he would come around.

After all, the deed was done. Lana was—or would be, the perfect wife and mother. The procedure had been a success. However, she would need time, time for him to feed her all kinds of lies of their "perfect" lives.

Nonetheless, Oliver was excited.

"You can tell me anything." Oliver tried again but Johnny didn't respond. "Your mother wouldn't like to see you like this, you know."

Johnny relaxed at the mention of Lana.

"She's worries about you a lot. You wouldn't want to upset her."

Johnny slowly lifted his head. His teary brown eyes landed upon Oliver. "Mom's okay?" He asked in a groggy voice.

Oliver smiled down at his son. "She's perfectly fine, Johnny. Why wouldn't she?"

"C-can I see her?"

Oliver nodded. "Come on." He swooped up Johnny in his arms. "Your mother will kill me if you get sick."

Too exhausted to fight him and wanting to see his mother, Johnny let Oliver carry him. He wrapped his arms around Oliver's neck and rested his chin on his shoulder. His eyes slowly closed.

Lana lay in a clean bed in the infirmary. Oliver had finally taken her out of that dirty cell. After all, she was a changed woman.

Oliver stopped at the side of her bed with Johnny in arms. He turned around immediately to look at her.

"She's sleeping." He said as his brown eyes studied his mother's sleeping face.

There was something about Lana. She looked too serene, almost emotionless. Johnny reached down to brush his fingers along her arm.

"Lana." Oliver spoke softly, "Your son's here to see you."

After a moment, Lana's eyes slowly fluttered open. Her eyes immediately went to Johnny.

"Hi, Mom." Johnny said.

Lana remained silent for a moment. She blinked, her expression filled with confusion and slowly raised her hand to brush Johnny's cheek. Her eyes scanned his face as her memory barely registered who he was. Slowly, she began to smile.

However, her eyes remained lifeless.

1973

It had been almost a year since Lana's procedure. She hadn't been lucid for the first few weeks and it took her time to adjust, hell, to do anything, really. She was like a helpless child but Oliver marveled at the idea of weighing on her hand and foot. He loved the idea of her being so dependent. He was her caregiver, and one day, when she was back on her feet, she would do the same for him.

At first, Lana didn't seem to remember much of her past or at all for that matter. She seemed to remember the boy, which was a very good thing. Oliver was both astonished and pleased even though she didn't refer to him by name or identify him as her son but Oliver had made sure she learned and made the connection.

He had read much about the outcome of lobotomies and the high percentages of failure. Lana could have died or could have been left with severe brain damage. However, Oliver had also read about patients who were able to walk away and live normal, yet subdued lives. It was a huge risk but one he was willing to take.

Other than the memory of her son, Lana's mind was a clean slate, a blank canvas that Oliver could not wait to drawn on. He began to fill her with lies and false ideals. He gave her the impression that they loved each other and were happy together. He shoved endless lies down her throat.

And Lana believed every single one of them even though at first she was confused.

After time she became obedient and complacent. She didn't flinch when Oliver touched her and greeted him with a warm smile. He even got her to laugh but there was something off about Lana. She held no warmth or happiness in her eyes. They often glossed over and Oliver wondered if it was a permanent side effect of the procedure.

At first, her personality was childish. She couldn't do anything for herself and was incontinent. It took her a while to advise Oliver before she lost utter control of her bladder and wet her bedding. When she was like this, Oliver didn't let Johnny near her. He didn't want the boy to see his mother in such a state. It pained Oliver to see Lana like that but he endured it.

He once woke in the middle of the night to her bawling like a child. When he ran into her room, she was in her bed, wet and throwing a fit. However, according to his readings, she would soon mature. And little by little she began to grasp sense of life once again.

It wouldn't be long before she was the perfect wife and mother.

Oliver's eyes marveled over Lana's fair, velvet skin. He had felt it countless times when he bathed her and dressed her and held her. He loved the way she felt and the way she smelled. He bathed her every night, leaving her smelling like honey and lilacs. She was so precious to him.

Oliver sat across from Lana on her bed in her room of the abandoned Victorian house in upstate Pennsylvania. They had escaped Briarcliff shortly after Lana's procedure.

She was fresh out of the bath. The tips of her hair were still moist and stuck to her cheeks. Her bottom lip was slightly swollen from her nervous lip biting. Lana's personality had matured much since she first awoke and Oliver felt like they were making great progress.

His eyes hungrily ravaged every inch of her skin exposed to him. She wore a soft pink nightgown and her feet were bare, crossed beneath her. Their son was fast asleep in the other room.

Oliver lifted his hand, caressing her cheek and tracing his fingers down her neck to her collarbones. Lana sat still, watching him with calm eyes. She didn't shy away at his touch or cringe in disgust.

Oliver's fingers continued lower, unbuttoning the buttons of her nightgown.

"Don't be afraid." Oliver said in a soft voice, slowly perching himself on top of her, pushing her back against the headboard.

Lana's eyes remained on his, her lips were parted slightly. She looked so innocent and clueless.

Oliver's hand other hand ran up her thigh. It was cold against her warm skin. She continued to watch him, unsure of what he was doing. Oliver had held a great self-restraint since she awoke from the procedure. He hadn't touched her…until then.

Oliver pulled his hand out from under her nightgown and placed it on the small of her back. He lifted her up, bringing her lower beneath him so her head was resting against the pillow instead of the headboard. He then quickly undid his shirt and tossed it aside.

Lana's calm brown eyes lingered down his shirtless body. It was the first time she had seen him that way.

"Lana," he said in a husky voice filled with lust, "This is what people in love do. You do love me, don't you?"

Of course, in her state, Lana was incapable of truly loving him. But he had filled her mind with such lies that the answer that escaped her lips was enough to make Oliver smile from ear to ear. Now, Lana didn't say it because she truly felt it. She said it because it was what Oliver wanted to hear and her now innocent mind wanted the reward presented after her good behavior.

Oliver took off her nightgown leaving her in nothing but her underwear. Lana didn't flinch at her nakedness. She just lay there like Oliver's favorite play doll. Oliver looked down, taking her all in. She was so beautiful when she was exposed to him. Her flesh was warm and supple. He couldn't handle himself and was surprised that he had lasted so long.

But Oliver had waited long enough. He had his cake and he wanted to eat it too.

Well, he was definitely going to devour her.

"I always knew you were the one." He whispered softly as he inhaled the scent of her neck. His hands ran up her arms that lay besides her head.

He brought his lips down her neck, leaving trails of kisses down the gap between her collarbones and onto her chest. He brought his lips over her breast, letting his tongue travel over her nipple.

Lana let out a soft gasp of surprise. She didn't know- or at least didn't remember- the feelings engulfing her body. It was if she was new to it all. She lay there, almost lifeless as Oliver suckled on her breast. She didn't cry out or push him off.

She lay there like the "good girl" Oliver said she was.

In her state, she was all his and he took advantage of that.

When Oliver pulled away, he slowly pulled Lana's underwear off and discarded them. She remained laying there, her cheeks flushed but her eyes remained expressionless. Oliver rid himself of the rest of his clothes and hovered over her body, his arms on either side of her head. He glanced down at her beauty and drank it all in.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. "Don't be afraid." He said to her in a low, hungry voice. He spread her legs apart, ready to enter her, "I'm going to take very good care of you, Lana."

He kissed her cheek, "Because you're mine and only mine."

Lana gasped softly as she felt him enter her but did not fight him. He said that was what people in love did. He said that was what a marriage was. And in Lana's new world, everything Oliver said was right and it was law.