TITLE: For the Love of a Daughter
GENRES: Family and Drama
FOCUS: This story will focus on family, particularly the Originals and the Salvatores. It will include romance, mostly Stelena and hints of Klaroline, but it will be minor.
CHARACTERS*: all Mikaelsons, both Salvatores, Gloria, Bonnie Bennett, Caroline Forbes, Matt Donovan, Elena Gilbert, Jeremy Gilbert, Alaric Saltzman, and original characters of mine
*Characters that do not appear until later in this story are not listed to avoid spoilers
AN: I haven't written anything in a while for this site, but I have a new obsession: The Vampire Diaries! Both the books and the series. I particularly love the Originals, although they will not show up for a while. This is supposed to be written right around 3/13, but I might not follow events exactly if they don't fit my story or I can't remember them. However, Esther never wakes up, because none of the Original siblings will die in this story, and she was the cause of their deaths.
Certain things from the books I'm going to bring into this, although this is based on the show. Damon's going to have "fathomless black eyes," just because I have a hard time picturing him with blue, and he's going to be a little more like he is in the books. (I am a little obsessed with book-Damon.) Also, I am going to use the thought communication from the books, because it's cool and I can. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or any characters affiliated with it. I do, however, own the characters of E.J. and Marcus. E.J. especially is an original creation and cannot be used in any way, shape, or form without my permission.
Chapter 1
"This is the place?" The building was huge and loomed up before her like a menacing dragon. She felt that she would be swallowed whole if she walked through that front door. She clutched her iPhone in her shaking hands as she stared down at it. The text from Gloria read: "I've asked Marcus to take you to the Boarding House upon your arrival. I trust your flight and bus ride went smoothly? He'll pick you up and take you there. Everything will be okay, sweetie. I love you."
E.J. sniffed and hit the power button angrily, fighting back tears. How long ago had she received that text? Too long ago. Back when her best friend and godmother had still been alive. The girl hitched in a breath and shoved the phone back into the back pocket of her white denim shorts.
Marcus stood beside her awkwardly, holding a suitcase in each hand. She had called him the night before and told him that she had changed her mind. Gloria had wanted her to come to this town for a reason. For what, she had no idea. "To find yourself, darling," Gloria had said. "Sometimes you have to get a little lost before you can figure out who you really are."
Gloria wanted me to come here, E.J. thought. She was hiding something, I just know it! She thought I could find the answers to all my questions by just coming to this backwater town in Virginia I've never heard of.
Mystic Falls.
"E.J.?" The werewolf's words startled the fourteen-year-old girl out of her thoughts, and she jerkily nodded at him. Marcus smiled kindly and strode up the walkway, hefting her bags up to keep them from dragging on the ground.
E.J. trotted toward the trunk of the cab and reached in to grab her last piece of luggage. The wooden box was ornately decorated, made of a dark wood that E.J. couldn't quite place. Gloria had given it to her for her fifth birthday, and she had never parted with it since. The witch had said that the box would open itself when she had discovered "her true self," whatever that meant.
"Find out who I am," E.J. muttered. "And the box will open. I get it, Gloria, really. Must you always be so cryptic?"
"The journey is just as important as the end, darling." E.J. turned slowly and glared at the African-American woman standing behind her. For a moment, her scowl remained, but it soon broke and was replaced by a small smile.
"It's not the same, you know," E.J. said, ignoring the woman's statement.
"What isn't?" the woman asked kindly.
"You're dead, Gloria," E.J. snapped. "Nothing will ever be the same." The girl glared when the ghost slowly approached her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, a hand she could not feel no matter how hard she concentrated. "Why was I cursed with the ability to see the dead, anyway? I didn't even come back from the dead."
Gloria laughed shortly. "I honestly do not know, sweetheart." Her expression sobered, and she sadly shook her head. "All I know is that you must discover who you are, and this is exactly where you need to be to do that."
"What does that even mean?!" E.J. demanded, exasperated.
"Miss?" She spun around, hand pressed to her heart, and panted up at the man standing behind her. Marcus looked concerned as he gently removed her hand and felt her forehead. "You were talking to yourself again, miss," the large, dark-haired man murmured, half out of concern and half out of wariness.
"I'm fine, Marcus," E.J. sighed, shaking off his hand and hefting her box in her arms. "I guess I'd better go in there, huh?"
"No one's home," Marcus replied dejectedly. "You will not be able to enter."
E.J. sighed and held the box in one hand, running the other through her hair. "Well, isn't that just convenient? I'll just follow you up and you can take this in then, 'kay?"
Marcus smiled and nodded. "It's incredible, isn't it?" he asked as they started up the short walkway. E.J. only grunted in reply, shifting the heavy box in her arms and shaking her curly chestnut hair. It now fell well past her waist, and she was just about ready to go to a beauty parlor to get it done. Gloria had always done it before, but now . . .
"Here we are!" exclaimed Marcus, stepping over the threshold and beaming as he showcased her the house. "What do you think?"
E.J. followed him inside and gently dropped the box beside her other luggage, shaking out her arms. "It's a really old house, Marcus."
Marcus rolled his eyes. "You just don't appreciate old architecture, E.J. You'll just have to wait until the residents get back before you can even enter to appreciate it."
At that moment, E.J. froze and glanced over her shoulder where she could clearly see the doorsill. A doorsill that she had stepped over, no problem. "Er," she giggled nervously, "I already did."
Marcus swung around and stared at her, eyes wide.
E.J. swallowed, her voice becoming increasingly higher as she asked, "Who exactly did you say lives here again?"
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The Grill was noisier than usual. The smell of human and alcohol satiated the air, but Damon Salvatore didn't mind. He reveled in the environment, especially in hearing every pump of blood in every human body pressed around him, particularly the feminine variety.
Unfortunately, he could not enjoy himself, because a certain very dead little brother of his had just given him some very ill-received news.
"You did what?!" Damon slammed his fist on the table, not even startling a very drunk Alaric, who was drowning his sorrows quite literally. If Alaric ever had his own kids, Damon would hate to see what would happen to him.
Stefan was sitting erect across from him, oak-green eyes uncompromising of his emotions. "Mrs. Lockwood called and asked if we could put her up for a while. I don't see what the big deal is. We are living in a boarding house, Damon."
"That's beside the point!" the older Salvatore sputtered. "We can't just have humans living under our noses! Have you forgotten what we are and just what we have in our house? Or how about the friends and occasional mortal enemies that drop by from time to time?"
Stefan had known Damon wouldn't like it, but he frankly didn't care. How much trouble could a fourteen-year-old girl be, anyway? They could just compel her if she saw or heard anything she shouldn't, no problem.
But, knowing that his brother would never listen to reason, Stefan decided to use his trump card. "She's paying rent." Damon paused in his tirade and blinked at him, mouth slightly ajar. "A lot of rent."
For a moment, Damon contemplated his brother's words before the tension in his shoulders slowly lessened, and he settled back against the booth they were sitting at. The anger slowly faded away to be replaced by contentment. "What did you say this kid's name was, again?" asked Damon, sounding more cheerful than he had in days.
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"Why didn't you tell me?!" E.J. was furious. Her best friend, godmother, and supposed most trusted confidant had just arranged for her to live in a living mouse trap. E.J. wasn't sure what to think of these new turn of events. The Boarding House was occupied by vampires? That was the only explanation for her being able to enter in without invitation. No living residents.
Gloria sighed and swirled her glass of bourbon, taking a dainty sip. How in the world a ghost could touch physical objects and so closely interact with them, E.J. didn't know, but it unnerved her a little. "No need to be so dramatic, honey," Gloria finally spoke, for the first time since E.J. had called her. "If I had thought it a problem, I would have told you."
"Who are they?" demanded E.J. testily.
Gloria sighed and closed her eyes. "The Salvatore brothers, not that that means anything to you."
E.J. glared as she plopped down on the expensive-looking couch beside the ghost, eyes hard and unyielding. "Do the best you can."
Gloria looked to be on the verge of sighing again, louder this time, but a darkened glare from her goddaughter encouraged her to quit stalling. "I don't know much, but I know a little. Damon and Stefan Salvatore, lovers of the same woman, a vampire. She played with them both and eventually turned them both. I don't know any more than that."
"What was her name?" asked E.J. coldly. Gloria knew that E.J. was incapable of turning her humanity off—why, she didn't know—but chills still ran down her spine at the girl's tone. E.J. was no monster, but she was deadly.
"I don't know," Gloria lied, but she faltered in her speech, and E.J. caught the catch in her voice.
Without warning, E.J. leaned forward, right into the ghost's face, and asked once more in a quieter, harder tone, her pupils dilating, "What was her name?"
Gloria blinked. "Katherine Pierce." She promptly cursed and glared at the girl who defied all logic. "How can you compel me?" she hissed in indignation.
E.J. cocked her head and shrugged. "No idea." Then she blinked. "Wait a minute. Didn't you say 'Katherine' was the name of the vampire who killed you?" Gloria froze and started to shake her head no, before she paused and finally nodded in defeat.
E.J. promptly leapt up and screamed, "That slimy bitch! I'll rip her head off!" E.J. spun in a circle and punched her fist toward the far wall. Half a second later, an invisible force smashed into the wall and formed an enormous crater, demolishing the fireplace.
"I don't think your hosts will like that," Gloria quipped. She was a ghost, why was she scared? E.J. couldn't—no, wouldn't!—hurt her.
E.J. blinked and cursed, falling down to the sofa heavily, cradling her head in her hands. She moaned in pain and turned pleading eyes to her best friend, godmother, confidant—and teacher. "Help me?" the girl asked weakly.
The ghost smiled warmly and took the girl's hand. "Repeat after me."
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Damon, leading a now sober but severely hung over Alaric, and Stefan returned to a quiet home. Damon coaxed Alaric over to the couch where he laid him down, none too gently, and swiftly hurried off to the kitchen to make his friend a cup of coffee. Stefan slowly wandered over to the fireplace, blinking at it slowly.
Something seemed off about it. Like it had been blown up and put back together. "Get a grip on yourself, Stefan," Stefan mumbled to himself. "You're just hallucinating."
"Hi!" The vampire spun around in terror to face the speaker, breathing hard but heart still remaining still, as it had for one hundred and forty-five years. He was confused for only a moment before his eyes slowly traveled upwards to meet the gaze of a chestnut-haired girl grinning down at him from upstairs.
"Sorry to scare you," the girl giggled, running down the stairs two at a time, swinging herself around the banister, and bouncing over to Stefan. "I'm E.J." She stuck out her hand and grinned up at Stefan.
Stefan immediately relaxed and mentally slapped himself for starting so easily. "Oh, you must be our new boarder, then." E.J. nodded eagerly. "My name's Stefan."
"Salvatore number one?" asked E.J. teasingly. Stefan might have imagined it, but it seemed that the girl's grin had wavered for a moment.
"Er, yes," Stefan answered hesitantly. "My brother, Damon, is in the kitchen getting our friend Alaric some coffee." He nodded his head at the passed-out blonde human, who groaned and turned over, away from them, as if he knew he was being watched.
E.J.'s grin finally subsided, and she simply nodded. "Okay then. Sorry about the fireplace, by the way." The moment the words left her mouth, she winced as if she were in pain, scrunched her nose up, and blinked up at him.
Stefan stared at her. "What's wrong with the fireplace?"
The odd expression promptly disappeared, and the grin reappeared with a vengeance. "Nothing!" the girl giggled, sounding nervous. "Gotta go, 'bye! Nice meeting you!"
Before Stefan could say a word, she had bolted up the stairs, three at a time this time, and disappeared into one of the rooms down the far hallway.
Damon reappeared with a coffee mug in both hands. "What was that?" he asked. Stefan couldn't tell if he were actually interested or simply making conversation to lessen the oppressive tension blanketing the Salvatore Boarding House.
"E.J.'s here," Stefan answered simply.
"Who?" Damon held one of the mugs out to Alaric, who turned over and accepted it without a word, and plopped down in one of the armchairs, sipping from the other mug himself.
Stefan rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "E.J. Hemmings. The girl who's now living with us." Damon still looked blank. "The girl who's giving us a fat paycheck to eat and sleep here?"
"Ah!" Damon held up one finger and grinned. "Now I know who you mean. What was that all about then?"
Stefan shrugged, not sure how much Damon had actually been paying attention to. "I honestly don't know. She said something about the fireplace, then got all weird—" He suddenly paused. "Wait, why am I telling you all of this? You don't even care."
Damon grinned up at him over the mug of what Stefan guessed to be piping hot blood. Delectable. "You know me so well, little brother. Want a sip?" He held out the mug almost tauntingly, shaking it just slightly to slosh its contents around.
For a moment, Stefan stared at it hungrily before he mentally shook himself and glared at his brother. "After your mouth has been on it? I think I'd rather gargle vervain."
Damon faked wincing. "Ouch!"
Stefan rolled his eyes and turned to speed up the stairs, away from his infuriating brother and Alaric, who had begun groaning and looking as if he were going to have a heart-to-heart with Damon.
Even though he knew he shouldn't, he found himself slowly approaching E.J.'s room. The door slightly ajar, Stefan easily tapped it open the slightest amount possible and peered inside.
Nobody was there.
"Huh," he muttered. "Weird." Before he could close the door, a rush of air swept through E.J.'s room and sent the few clothes she had unpacked swirling away.
Once the wind had died down, Stefan and E.J. stared at each other, E.J. panting heavily, glancing from him to the window.
"Just thought you might need something," Stefan lied, staring at E.J. with new understanding.
"Er, no thanks," E.J. played along, nervously fiddling with her hair. "I'm good."
"Uh huh." Stefan nodded, still staring at her.
"So, you can go now," E.J. finished, turning away from him.
A second later, she was picked clear up off the ground and pinned high up on the wall. She growled a warning, but she was helpless in the larger and probably older vampire's grasp.
Stefan easily held her, glaring heatedly but warily. "Who are you?"
"I already told you," E.J. muttered irritably. "My name is E.J. Hemmings. Can you put me down now?"
Stefan ignored her. "You're a vampire?"
E.J. sighed and shook her head, but as if her head hurt and not as if she were answering in the negative. "Honestly? I don't know what I am."
They stared at each other for another long moment before Stefan began feeling guilty for pinning a fourteen-year-old girl, vampire or not, and gently set her down. E.J. squirmed away from him and glared, folding her arms and huffing. "Can I unpack my things now?"
For whatever reason, Stefan felt himself drawn to this strange girl. He sensed that she was not dangerous—to him, anyway—and he almost sensed that she needed protecting. If she couldn't take him, she certainly couldn't take Damon. Assuming that none of the others dropped by while neither he nor Damon were there, then there was no problem.
So he nodded slowly and retreated from the room. "Yeah, go ahead. Make yourself at home."
Gloria appeared the moment he was gone. "You need to be more careful!" she scolded. E.J. ignored her and continued on with her unpacking. "Are you listening to me?"
"Go away, Gloria," E.J. suddenly snapped, rounding on the ghost. "I know I blew it, okay? You sent me here for something, and I probably just messed everything up! I get it! You don't need to remind me, okay?"
Gloria suddenly paused and slowly shook her head, looking deep in thought. "Perhaps not."
E.J. sniffled and blinked up at her. "What?"
Gloria smiled and patted the girl's head fondly.
From his room down the hall, Stefan could hear the entire conversation, E.J.'s side that is, and he began to wonder if letting the strange girl stay had been that great of an idea. Is it normal for people to talk to themselves? he thought.
He heard movement at his door and spun around.
"What are you so jumpy for?" Damon was leaning against his doorframe (why had he left his door open?), holding his mug of blood in one hand. When Stefan only glared, Damon sighed and held up a placating hand. "I heard the whole thing, Stef, so relax."
Stefan didn't. "We're not kicking her out, Damon."
Damon feigned horror. "Come on, Stefan. You know me better than that. Put a lost, possibly insane little girl out on the streets? I'd never—"
"Your sincerity astounds me, Damon," Stefan interrupted. A moment passed, and the brothers could still clearly hear E.J.'s conversation with herself.
"You know what I mean, Damon," Stefan continued, sighing and looking deep in thought. "She's a vampire."
Damon blinked. "I know."
Stefan stared at him. "How could you know?"
"I heard everything, remember?" Damon took a long drink from his mug, looking thoughtful. "Weren't her exact words 'I don't know what I am'?"
"That was her way of saying, 'yes,' Damon," Stefan replied, agitated. He strolled toward his desk and absentmindedly picked up his current journal, thumbing through the pages. He had kept a journal his entire life after his mother had given it to him as a "special present." He had been seven at the time, a year before his mother had died, and he hadn't quite understood what a journal was supposed to be, but he had faithfully recorded his thoughts and feelings in it just as she had instructed.
"Really?" Damon sounded bored. "What, you think she's speaking in code now?"
Before Stefan could answer, something loud and heavy fell to the ground, creating a tremendous sound that was murder on their hypersensitive ears, from where they assumed to be E.J.'s room.
"What the hell?" Damon growled as he spun around, momentarily forgetting his mug and spilling half of the contents over his hand, to face the door. In the doorway stood a sheepish E.J., who was warily eying the blood that was dripping from Damon's hand.
"Are you okay?" she asked, sounding more as if she was distracting them than genuinely concerned.
"Peachy," Damon growled, downing the rest of the blood and dropping the mug onto one of the shelves of a bookcase. He licked the blood from his hands, his eyes not leaving the now nervous E.J.'s. The girl continued to stare, becoming entranced by the fathomless black eyes of the (physically and possibly literally) elder vampire. Even though he was at least in his early twenties and she was only fourteen, she couldn't help but admire just how hot Damon Salvatore was. Gloria never mentioned he was this sexy, E.J. thought to herself.
"E.J.," Stefan interrupted the intense staring contest, startling E.J. but not even disturbing Damon. "We heard a crash," he continued. "What happened? Are you all right?"
Damon turned around and raised an eyebrow. Really, little brother? She's standing right in front of you. The thought came clearly into Stefan's mind, and he glared at his elder brother.
Mind your own business, he projected back.
"Oh, that." E.J.'s voice broke into the brothers' conversation and they turned as one to look at her. "I dropped something on the floor. No big deal." She uneasily glanced between the two. "Are you guys okay?"
Damon smiled menacingly and E.J. took a conscious step back. "Let's get something straight, kid," Damon purred, and Stefan resisted the urge to groan. Technically, Damon was the owner of the boarding house, since Stefan was only seventeen, and the younger Salvatore technically had no say in how his brother ran the business. Not that they had had any other lodgers besides E.J. and the occasional friends or girlfriends, of course.
"My house, my rules," Damon continued. "That means no more crazy talking to yourself and preferably no more heavy objects being thrown across the room. Deal?"
E.J. stared at him. "What are you—?" She froze. "Oh, right, I was talking to myself. Er, yeah, deal, uh"—she glanced uncertainly down at Damon's hand—"should we shake on this, or what?"
Damon raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "No need, sweetheart. Just do as I say and stay out of my way, and we'll get along swimmingly."
E.J. had yet to break his gaze. "Uh huh, okay. Sorry to bother you two." She finally tore her gaze away to smile apologetically at Stefan before returning to staring blankly up at Damon once more. "Can I go now?"
In reply, Damon turned her around, gently shoved her out the door, and closed the door on her. When he turned around, Stefan was giving him a LOOK. "What?" Damon asked. "I got rid of her, didn't I?"
Stefan shook his head and turned back to his journal. "You're a hopeless cause, Damon. That's all I have to say to you."
Back in her room, E.J. gently picked up the precious box that she had thrown at Gloria in her rage and laid it on the bed. She jumped back in alarm when the box seemed to vibrate in her hands just slightly.
She was just reaching out to take it again, telling herself she had imagined it, when somebody screamed.
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AN: Well, that was fun! I will update soon, but I would love to see some feedback first. I didn't want to say before (because I think it gives a preconceived conception of the story), but this is my first TVD story. I've written enough, though, that there's no need to sugarcoat what you say. Thanks for reading!