A/N: Hello everyone, thanks for considering this story for your reading pleasure! This is my first published work, so please send some reviews and critiques my way. Also, I'm open to suggestions about the story as well!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.

Chapter 1

Beginning of the Fall

Sue knew the art of subtly very well, sneaking right under the consciousness radar.

On the first day, she chose the central seat of the fourth row in the lecture hall; unlike the teacher's pets, her presence was simply a gentle reminder of her existence. She followed the professor's general shuffle from one side of the classroom to the other, noting his hand gestures and his enthusiasm about his topic. Her eyes tracked his, straightening and smiling every time he made a general sweep of the room, but when his eyes settled on her specifically, her eyes lowered sheepishly and the corners of her mouth quirked coyly. As the second week rolled by, she noticed his lingering gazes, coupled with deliberate smiles. This was her cue.

After class, she waited in a line of students waiting to speak with the Occult studies professor. All of the students were, unsurprisingly, female. Despite his age, Sue knew the young women in his class were wooed by his cheeky smiles, five-o'clock-shadow, and fit physique—even she could see the appeal. The first two girls were clearly brown nosers, the first, a petite blonde, for her grade, and the other, a curvaceous brunette, for her lust. Both fawned at his knowledge and giggled at his awkward attempts to keep the conversations professional. Behind her, there was an exasperated scoff; a petite girl crossed her arms and narrowed her green eyes.

"Can you believe them?" she hissed, tightening the lock of her arms across her chest. Her comment was full of disgust. Sue's lips curved into a smirk.

"He's a good professor, but I highly doubt their focus is on his knowledge," Sue muttered back to the girl with the same thick judgment. Her fellow classmate burst into a fit of giggles before trying to cover her mouth with shock. The brunette flirting freely with the professor threw a dark look back at the two girls, causing more stifled laughter.

"I'm Bonnie," the shorter girl finally said as she caught her breath. Her wide smile was infectious.

"Sue," she replied easily with a tight smile. Before either could continue their conversation, Professor Saltzman cleared his throat, eyebrows raised to indicate Sue's turn.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, hi," she stepped up to his desk with a polite smile. "I'm Sue Beckett." She extended a hand professionally, which he looked at for a moment before taking it gingerly. "I've been trying to follow your lectures, and line it up with the text, but there were some things in the book that I didn't understand. Do you have some time to talk about it?"

Professor Saltzman checked his watch and glanced back at his last student, Bonnie, before a heavy sigh escaped him. He looked as tired as he sounded. "You'll have to come by, during my office hours…"

"Great, sure," she nodded. Then, she sheepishly added, "Um, where is your office, and when are your hours again? Is it on the syllabus?"

Again, unprepared for her willingness, the older man laughed awkwardly, scratching his scruffy chin. Before he could conjure an excuse or stutter an awkward response, Bonnie quipped, "He doesn't have an office, but he's available between five and seven." When Sue raised a brow, Bonnie added, "I didn't come the first day, so I met him at Midnight Brew around that time."

"Here." The professor handed her an orange sticky note with his on-campus apartment address. "You can swing by around… six o'clock, and I'll answer your questions."

"Awesome," she chirped. "Also… I'm a writer for the school newspaper," she began and watched his eyes lower as he smiled a little, "and I'm doing a piece about on-campus life. Would you mind answering some questions about that too?"

"I…" He raised his eyes to her wide, expecting ones before he sighed with a defeated smile. "Sure, as long as we're done by seven."

"I'll narrow down my questions," she promised. "Thank you, Professor." Without the theatrics of the other girls, she nodded her goodbye and smiled at Bonnie before striding out of the room with a smile holding a thousand secrets.

"So," Bonnie drawled casually as she sidled by to Alaric's desk after the door shut behind Sue. His professor façade quickly dropped as he was in the presence of a friend; his light expression was only masking his dark depression. He had been fighting an uphill battle, even throughout their Europe trip. "The great evacuation plan of Mystic Falls isn't going as great as everyone had hoped."

Bonnie internally cringed at the house. Giving Mystic Falls to Lily Salvatore and her precious Heretic hybrids was a peace offering; Stefan, Caroline, and Matt juvenilely thought they could rid the world of these abominations while Bonnie, Alaric, and Damon were away. Bonnie could have easily told them how their stupid idea would end up affecting everyone, but she just wasn't consulted. The mere thought of giving their town over to Lily and her "children" was even worse than the thought of handing it over to the tomb vampires, something that could have happened back when she was in high school. The Heretics were both physically and magically strong, making them the most powerful opponents the supernatural beings of Mystic Falls had ever faced.

"Well, they turned it into a ghost town," Alaric began, leaning against his desk as he articulated his muddled thoughts. Knowing him and having seen his destructive past, he could easily be hungover right then. "That part worked. Unfortunately for us, ghost towns are like amusement parks for college kids. The Heretics killed ten people already—two, just last night. Idiots, looking for a ghost selfie." He sighed deeply, taking his lecture notes and shoving them into his satchel.

Bonnie watched him carefully; the man had lost every true love he had to supernatural causes, but Jo's death seemed to be the last straw, despite their relationship's short duration. Bonnie finally mustered enough emotional courage to ask, "Are you okay?" The question seemed to startle her friend as he stopped and looked at her warily. "Damon told me what you were doing in Europe."

"Losing my money and sanity to a series of con artists?" Alaric scoffed at his own actions. "Yeah… don't worry." He sighed. "I'm over it."

"It's okay if you're not, Ric," Bonnie said gently. "Actually, I'm a little offended you didn't come to me first." Her tone was light, but her words held weight.

"You wouldn't think it's weird that I'm trying to contact my fiancé, who's been dead for months?"

"Honestly?" Bonnie rolled her eyes with a ghost of a smile. "After everything we've experienced, it'd be weird if you weren't." Without letting him continue, she turned to leave, but Alaric's pause was only to find the nerve to tell her what was really on his mind.

"Hey, Bonnie," he called, causing her to turn back curiously. "Have you ever heard of the Phoenix Stone?"

When Stefan gave his mother the Salvatore boarding house, she gave him exactly one hour to gather whatever he needed. Along with clothes, his current journal, a few of his favorite novels, and a photo album from Lexi, he pulled the dusty box wedged on the top shelf of his closet. When he burned several journals as a statement of a new start, he only disposed of his vampire memories. The dusty box in the shadows of his closet contained the ten years he wrote his thoughts while human.

"Your hour is up, Stefan," he heard from the doorway, behind him, as he stared at his meager belongings in only a duffel bag and a box. He was used to starting over and taking only the things that mattered, but he had always had the boarding house to return to.

"Yes, Mother," he muttered as he pushed his way out of the room. He jogged down the stairs, not bothering to look at the two Heretics in the living room, and slammed the front door behind him. That would probably be the last time he entered the house… until he and his brother figured out a way to get rid of Lily and her beloved "children".

After calling Tyler, Stefan decided to settle in the abandoned Lockwood mansion. The Lockwood house was large, like the boarding house, so it was an easy transition, but Stefan chose it for a more strategic reason. If there were ever an emergency, the house would protect a large population, and all Stefan or Damon would have to do is compel a human to sign the deed, keeping Lily and the Heretics out.

Stefan dropped his belongings in a room but couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the old box. It probably contained fifteen to twenty full journals, documenting his youth and shift to adulthood. He carefully took a book out and found a chair in the study to read it. He apprehensively flipped through the brittle pages, seeing his handwriting evolve throughout a single year. How long had it been since he last read his own human thoughts?

Then, a surname jumped out at him, one he hadn't thought of in years. Sutton. His eyes skimmed the page, and his memory reeled.

"Rebecca Sutton is a strange girl…" he read under his breath with a smile.

Mystic Falls 1857

"Stefan." The older Salvatore stood in the doorway of his brother's room, watching as Stefan played with his toys. Stefan's bright eyes captured his brother's muted excitement. "Mother needs for us to go to the bakery."

"Why did she not ask me?" Stefan frowned.

"I was near," Damon shrugged. "Besides, she asked only me to go, but she allowed my request to bring you. So, put away your toys, and let's go."

The younger Salvatore's eyes lit up at the thought of leaving the house, running after his teenaged brother. Stefan spent time outdoors, in the forest or simply in the yard with his brother, but the plantation was far from the main town, and it was too tedious to make frequent necessary trips. Mostly, though, Stefan loved doing things for his mother. Damon called him a "mother's son", a term to taunt the young boy, but Stefan didn't mind. It was true that he loved his mother, and he'd do anything she asked—he clung to the term with pride.

Stefan caught up with his brother's long strides and watched Damon as they walked through the dusty paths. Damon stood his full height, with squared shoulders and his hands in his pockets; he nodded with a smart smile at the women who caught his eye, and he nodded with a serious brow to the men he respected. Stefan tried to copy his brother's mannerisms, to which the women cooed and giggled, and the men smiled like a father to his silly son.

"Are you imitating me, Brother?" Stefan looked up at his smirking brother, but Damon wasn't even looking in his direction.

"Am not," Stefan protested, untucking his hands from his pockets and folding them behind his back like he'd seen his father do. Damon's grin solidified, seeing the gesture from the corner of his eye, but he did not offer another comment.

The road became more populated the closer to the center of the town. More people waved at the Salvatore boys from their yards or their porches, and a few people stopped Damon to ask about either parent's affairs. Stefan watched his poised brother answer questions with courtesy and charm. Stefan always admired his brother for his golden heart, as their mother put it.

"Who do you think will be in the square?" Stefan finally asked, easily bored by the long walk. "I hope I see my friends."

Damon pursed his lips for a moment before leaning close to his young brother. "Can you keep a secret, Stefan?" Stefan's eyes widened with wonder and honor as he nodded eagerly. "I hope to see Hannah Charleston in the square."

"Hannah Charleston?" Stefan echoed. "The girl you talk to before Sunday service every week?" Damon nodded. "You like her?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"She is much older than I am, Damon," Stefan observed, to which his brother barked a laugh. "Well, she is, is she not!"

"As am I," Damon pointed out. "You seem to enjoy my company."

"You are my brother."

"Anyways," Damon sighed, wrapping an arm around his brother casually. "Hannah is a simple girl, and though I don't see marriage and children in our future, I do fancy her."

"If you do not see those in your future, why do you bother?" Stefan asked innocently, watching Damon's expression change deviously.

"You will understand in time."

As they entered the town square, Stefan's wide eyes took in all of the lively activity. Carriages creaked past, mothers bustled past with six or seven young children, men shouted greetings and barters. The radial town was punctuated with a fountain at the center, the most notorious waiting area. As they neared, Stefan caught sight of a familiar face.

"Damon, it's Rebecca," Stefan hissed close to his brother with excitement, but Damon's eyes were already on the blonde's beaming face.

"Well, if it isn't the Salvatore brothers," Rebecca sighed as she stood to curtesy them mockingly. Damon, with a wide smile, made a show of bowing deeply, and Stefan tried the same, causing Rebecca to laugh. "Sit with me as I wait for Ezekiel." She patted the seat next to her on either side. Stefan sat to her left with a great smile. "How do you do, Stefan?"

"I am well, Rebecca. Why brings you to the square during high noon?" he quipped. Rebecca, however, didn't seem to hear him as she stared at his hair with a heavy frown.

"Why do you insist on letting your hair become so unruly?" she muttered, twisting his overgrown blonde strands at his nape. "Do you envy my hair and choose to grow your hair like my own?" She grinned at Stefan's horrified expression as she pushed her own dark blonde hair over her shoulder. She peered at Damon against the sun, as he continued to stand. "Or does he just copy you this way also?"

Damon shrugged, his hands still stuck in his pockets as he looked around. Stefan noticed his furrowed brown and squared jaw. When Stefan had seen his brother with this Hannah girl, he wasn't nearly as anxious as he was then.

"Mother said she will cut our hair before Sunday," Stefan finally replied. "She hasn't been feeling well these days."

"Perhaps I will help her and cut it myself," Rebecca teased half-heartedly, giving his hair a little tug. She gazed up at the intense Damon and scoffed. "Pardon me, Mr. Salvatore, but am I not the adequate company you sought when you came to the square?"

"Mother sent us for bread," Damon responded absentmindedly. "We did not come for pleasure."

"He is looking for a girl," Rebecca concluded with a devious smile, looking at Stefan for confirmation. The younger boy glanced at his glaring brother but took his chances anyways; Rebecca knew nearly everything about the two boys, it surprised Stefan that she didn't know about Hannah.

"Her name is Hannah," Stefan informed quietly. Rebecca's eyebrows rose as she looked back to Damon, catching him give his brother a dark look but tried to mask his anger with indifference.

"Is there any reason why you wouldn't tell me of this Hannah, Mr. Salvatore?" Rebecca inquired with a falsely sweet voice. "Worried I will strike fear in her heart?"

"I do not worry about what I know is true," Damon murmured. "She knows of you… and I am positive she would not be delighted to see you and I in close company."

"There is nothing to concern her," Rebecca countered. Stefan noted the conversation sharply turning from light to dark. "Does she not know you and Stefan are like my own brothers?" Her eyebrows pinched down together. "Of all the things I hate, the one I deplore the most is my status as a lady."

"Do not worry, Rebecca…" Damon leaned closely as if he were sharing a secret. "You are no lady." He was teasing, told by his impish grin and slanted eyes. Stefan smiled as Rebecca's own smile returned. "I have told Hannah you are like a sister to Stefan and me, but she claims there is more."

"Then this Hannah is daft," Rebecca declared. She turned to Stefan, prompting, "Do you know this Hannah? How does she impress you? Am I right to think she is dull?"

"She…" Stefan gulped, avoiding his brother's wrath. "She is beautiful."

"Beauty." Rebecca rolled her eyes as she expelled the word from her bitter lips. "Beauty is as temporary as a flower."

"Well, Damon says she is temporary also," Stefan blurted, earning a thump to the back from his brother.

"I thought that was a secret between brothers!"

"And who shall I tell, Damon?" Rebecca interrupted with underlying laughter. "Don't be so ill-tempered. I don't care about your intentions with this dull girl. Where do you think Ezekiel is right now?"

"Running an errand?"

"He is meeting with his own Hannah," Rebecca said with distaste. "He told Mother we were going for a walk, but he informed me I should wait while he meets with a girl named Gracie."

"I know Gracie," Damon commented. "I see why he meets with her."

"How well do you know this Gracie, Damon?"

"Are you jealous, Rebecca?" His blue eyes caught her hazel ones, but hers held fire and mischief.

"You have given me no reason to be," Rebecca responded pompously. "Besides, I am just looking out for my brother. That is all."

"Ah, here comes the devil now," Damon muttered with a small smirk. "Ezekiel, you dog."

Rebecca's older brother, Ezekiel, approached the fountain with a giddy smile; Stefan had seen that smile on the face of his father after one too many drinks. Ezekiel, with hands clasped behind his back, bowed theatrically to his best friend, Damon, and to Stefan with similar gall.

"Gentlemen," he greeted. Rebecca stood with a sigh as she adjusted her brother's collar, and Damon helped by petting down Ezekiel's mussed hair.

"If you are any indication of what your Gracie looks like…" Rebecca whispered, glancing over his shoulder to see an equally disheveled girl leaving the alley behind the bakery. "The poor girl… I'll be right back."

"Bless my sister's kind heart," Ezekiel mumbled as the three boys watched Rebecca catch up with the infamous Gracie and adjust her garments.

"Yes," Damon breathed, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Your sister is a strange girl."

Stefan shut his journal and smiled at the thought of Rebecca Sutton. Oddly, her sweet yet sassy nature reminded him of Caroline… the beautiful blonde that kissed him and never called. He should get a hold of her.

After a meeting with a colleague, and then a lunch with another, Alaric was drained of false niceties. His legs mechanically brought him across campus, and into his apartment, and his body went through the motions of lighting the fireplace and changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He plopped down on the couch, feeling all of his energy just seeping out, onto the cushions of his couch, but he couldn't sleep or even drink to numb the pain.

He reached into his pocket and produced the translucent red stone he had told Bonnie about earlier. The Phoenix Stone. He stared into its internal facets as he turned it over and over in the palm of his hand. This was his chance, his salvation. This was the one thing he found, in all of his supernatural research, to successfully bring his sweet Josette back to him.

A knock on the door yanked him from his hopeful thoughts. In his doorway was the petite Bonnie Bennett, gripping the strap of her messenger bag as she entered his apartment.

"Cozy," she commented.

"Would you like something to drink or…?" Alaric offered, sitting on a cushion by the fireplace. Bonnie sat on the cushion across from him, eyeing him curiously. "I'm sorry… I don't usually have guests, and when I do, there's usually a woman around to make host-like offers…"

"It's all right, Ric," Bonnie smiled gingerly, taking a hold of his hand briefly. "Just tell me about the stone."

"An old contact of mine from Duke told me about it," Alaric confessed as he examined the stone still in his hand. "It…" Alaric tore his eyes away from it, feeling like Gollum with the One Ring. "It's supposed to have resuscitative powers."

"Resuscitative powers?" Bonnie's eyebrows pinched up, incredulously painted across her face. "As in, it can bring someone back from the dead?" The idea, of course, wasn't foreign to either of them, but still, Bonnie's skeptical tone and apprehensive attitude made Alaric sneer bitterly.

"And that's why I didn't tell you," Alaric said, punctuated by a quick scoff. "Because I was avoiding that look."

"Where did you find it?" Bonnie inquired, leaning forward. Alaric was secretly glad she was so intrigued; it boded well for him because maybe it'd ease her mind about using the stone for Josette.

"Do you remember that night in New York?" he prompted.

"Yeah, the night you passed out on the floor of that bar…" Bonnie mused with a small smile at the memory. When she caught sight of Alaric's corrective glance, she amended her answer. "The night you pretended to pass out on the floor of that bar…"

"Yeah, well, I snuck into a maritime museum, and this was on display there."

Alaric watched Bonnie's contemplative expression as she watched the stone Alaric toyed with before she opened both of her palms willingly. Alaric's eyes interrogated her, but she just gave an encouraging smile. He finally placed the stone into one of her palms and watched her nervously as she assessed the magic inside of it.

"It's certainly pretty," Bonnie murmured with a hopeful tone. Her eyes shut as she weighed the magic of the stone in her hand. "But… I don't feel any magic emanating from it…" she finally admitted.

Alaric gave a bitter laugh. "Well, you are more honest than anyone I saw in Europe," he allowed. His light tone was only a cover for the plummet of his heart and hopes. Bonnie closed her eyes again, pressed shut with concentration. "What are you doing?"

"Sometimes, witches will conceal a magical talisman or relic by hiding the magic inside of it." Alaric immediately thought of Bonnie's teddy bear that she had stored her magic in.

Bonnie concentrated in silence for a long moment before the fire sudden grew with a burst, and Bonnie's breath became short and panicked. Alaric wanted to reach out, bring her back to reality, but his selfish desire to bring his fiancé back was stronger. Though he feebly asked her what was going on and if she was okay while she fidgeted under the influence of the stone, she did not reveal her green eyes for a few more long moments.

'Bonnie, what happened?"

"I don't know." Her voice quivered; she sounded like when she first started discovering her magic. "I saw something. People dying…" Her bottom lip shook as she continued, "There's something wrong with that stone, Ric. Something evil." Alaric watched Bonnie's panic, and though he felt guilty for not breaking her connection, he felt even guiltier for knowing what she was saying was true.

Unfortunately, for Alaric, there was nothing Bonnie could not ascertain from a creased forehead and a defeated sigh.

"But your friend from Duke already told you that, didn't she?" Bonnie pressed. "Which is why you waited until you were flat out desperate before you told me about it." Guilt shone on his face, but Bonnie would not falter. "Can't mess with that magic, Ric. We have to destroy it."

Destroy it? Although he would agree to pacify Bonnie's fear, he felt the hope of the stone too strongly to ever let it go.

"I only hear one set of footsteps."

Damon rolled his eyes as he heard his younger brother's condescending tone from the Lockwood's open study room. After finding out their mother took Caroline for his hasty act of killing Malcolm, one of her precious Heretics, Damon went to the boarding house to make amends. Unfortunately, his bitter mother turned down his scrawny apology and shut him out.

"And I only hear righteous 'I told you so's," the older Salvatore retorted, sauntering into the room with ease. Though he failed to get back the object of his brother's affection, the guilt was minimal. Nearing the desk Stefan poured over, Damon spread his arms with a tight smile, saying, "Look, I offered myself, but Lily declined."

Tearing his attention away from the blueprint spread in front of him, Stefan delivered a wide, forced smile, bitterly declaring, "Looks like nobody wants you around, do they."

Damon made a playfully irritated face at his brother before registering why Stefan even had blueprints of the boarding house. "Ah, planning a little midnight raid through the tunnels?" he inquired lightly. Stefan gave an affirmation glance, to which Damon pursed his lips, hating to be the bearing of bad news. "Well, there's a little, teensy problem with that…" Stefan didn't even look up until Damon said, "We no longer own the house. I.E., we can't get in."

This caught Stefan's attention. "What?" he demanded.

"Have no fear," Damon responded calmly. He felt Stefan's eyes practically bulging out of his head. "I have a call in, in the registrar's office, and I will found out who exactly does own the house in a matter of minutes." Damon strolled over to the couch by the fireplace. "At which point, we will kill said person, storm the castle, and save your damsel."

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Stefan accused with narrowed eyes. Damon could tell his brother wasn't worried Caroline would die, but sometimes, Damon realized, people will be tortured, no matter how much you plead with their captors.

"I have sixty years to kill," Damon shrugged and plopped down on the sofa, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. He had to fill his days without Elena somehow. "Having an enemy, a nemesis, a maniacal villain with maniacal villain motives? You kidding me?" The dark-haired vampire gave his brother an elastic smile, nearly giddy with the thrill of the scenario. "That's not the worst distraction in the world, don't you think?"

"That's funny you think she's the villain when you're the one who killed one of her loved ones." Damon briefly wondered how Stefan could stay objective about their mother's misplaced loyalty; though he'd never admit it out loud, the fact his mother chose a different family cut him deeper than any other rejection in his life.

"You taking her side?" Damon questioned, his light attitude becoming dangerously dark within seconds. He glared at his brother, urging him to say the wrong thing just to pick a fight.

"No," Stefan responded with a tight smile, "but I'm definitely not taking yours."

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Love,

glass27doll