"No... Don't do it. I won't allow it." She whispered, as soft and fragile as velvet. She was aware of the shakes on her voice, but she was far too focused on the man in front of her.
Her trembling fingers traced the lines on his face, light enough she only brushed them. Even like this, he still looked so very handsome.
"Elena..." He growled, but it sounded so desperate and begging she couldn't stop her smile.
"You're so stubborn... When will you ever call me Angel?"
"Stop it—stop this irrational game you're playing." He said sharply. To anyone else, they might hear the demand and threat, but to Angel, there was only fear he buried deep behind.
"But I'm not playing anything." She clenched the expensive coat of his tightly. "You can't die for me... Life isn't something you can waste over another person, you know."
She whispered, barely loud enough. "Take it from someone like me."
She let go of her grip.
And fell.
The last thing she heard was the desperate roar of a mourning beast, and the heavy roll of thunder ahead.
.
.
"Uncle... Whe'e's Jerry?" Her childish voice rang loudly in the relatively empty corridor. The only people there being her, her uncle, and her aunt (and no, they're not married). It was simply too late in night for anyone else to be in the birthing room of the small town's only hospital. Coincidences might happen, but not like this.
Nevertheless, Elena couldn't help the bounces of her knees as they awaited the screams inside to stop.
A baby brother. Elena thought, giddy. I'm going to have a baby brother!
In her past life, she didn't have any siblings. And her friends—scarce and rare as they were—were as good as siblings to her.
Oh, how she missed them.
But no matter how much, she knew—deep in her heart—that she couldn't go back. Couldn't hop universes to the mind numbingly boring one of hers, where all her friends and family are. She was left here, in the strange, dangerous universe where supernatural walk the earth.
She wanted to go home—very, very much.
(she was just afraid no one missed her.
that no one remembered her.)
Alexis Sanderson died on December 3rd, 2017, at 00:01, and Elena Angeline Gilbert was born on December 3rd, 1992 at 00:02.
She'd accepted that fact, a long time ago.
"He'll be here soon, little bird." Uncle John said soothingly from ahead of her. Big, rough hands cradled her small form gently. "Just wait for a few moments more, alright?"
He absentmindedly pat her head, and she tried very hard not to outrightly preened at that. She loved John Gilbert, loved the way she showered her attention and small things, loved how awkward he expressed his love toward her.
She rarely saw him, and in moments like this, she always nearly forget she wasn't supposed to know he's her real father.
But she felt drawn to him—gravitated, really—and it just felt as clear as the sky's blue, that he's her father. She didn't understand how Elena hadn't, and even hated him.
She tried not to close her eyes at John's pats that were as good as a lullaby. Judging from her aunt's amused smile, she saw it.
Jenna Sommers stood from the uncomfortable plastic chair (the reason why she sat on John's lap) and stretched her body painfully, making her birth father slash uncle winced at the pops her spine made.
"I need more caffeine." She yawned. "Do any of you want something from the vending machine?"
John shook his head, instead turned his head to look at me quizzically. I beamed. "Can I have jelly beans and coca cola?"
Because, dear god, she understood Americans' obsession with soda, but diet coke is awful.
"Sure, sweetheart." He said indulgingly.
And whoever said John Gilbert was a bad father again?
.
.
They waited for fifteen minutes more before the screams stopped, and twenty five before they were allowed to go inside.
The inside of the room was as blindingly white as every other spots of the hospital (that she'd seen anyway—no way would she go to cadavers room), and the smell of hospital she could only named clean kinda stab her nose, but they weren't what she focused on.
Her brown eyes were zeroed on the little bundle her tired mother held against her chest.
"Elena... this is your little brother, Jeremiah Gilbert." Her (adoptive) father smiled, blue eyes shining.
Her mother lowered down the bundle, and Elena could finally see him... a red, little fragile thing that looked like he just recently got mushed... which, made sense actually... considering he was forced to went through a small hole called vagina...
And Elena could totally empathized with. It was a memory that traumatized her forever.
She held down a disgusted shudder, and set her big brown eyes back on the closed ones of Jeremiah (ha. That would serve as a good blackmail material), determination coming over her.
"Hey, Jerry." She didn't smile, no, but the serious expression was comical enough that the adults had to supress their chuckles. "I'm your big sister, Elena. And I'll protect you forever, okay?"
That was just her job as an older sibling, and she promised, she would.
(even if it may kill her one day.)
.
.
The years of her new life passed by fleetingly. Nothing exciting happened for two years, until her third birthday.
Her adoptive parents—Miranda and Grayson—weren't one of those that celebrated their children's birthday each year with a party, thankfully. They were tolerant parents, and would let their children did whatever they wanted in their birthdays, with the occasional parties every few years. So Elena straightened her back, scrunched her eyebrows, and endured.
Except she didn't want to.
December the Third. The date that marked the day death took her away from her family and sent her away to another one.
She wasn't acting ungrateful (she's very grateful). It's just that... she didn't want to feel happy on her death day.
She wanted to mourn, not to smile and clap as strangers gifted her gifts. She definitely didn't want to sing happy tunes.
All she felt to do was to roll on a field of flowers and pretended she died, while funeral songs were played loudly on the speaker until it was all she could hear.
But she couldn't exactly say that, so she pretended.
Jerry was the first one to notice her unhappiness, and he'd gotten upset so much at her expense he nearly cried even though he didn't know the reason. He forgot all about it as soon as their mom gave him a lollipop.
Elena thought he would be the only one to notice (John couldn't come—another reason her mood fell further), but the universe proved her wrong two hours before the party.
A little cherub came up to her with the most determined face, and asked demandingly. "Why we'en't you smiling? It's youw biwthday, you know!"
Nevermind that she'd practically glued her fake smile by that time.
She fumbled for words, when the kid's mother came to the rescue. "Caroline! Don't be rude. I'm sorry, Elena, Miranda, she can be a little bossy sometimes."
"It's okay, Liz. Such a cute little police officer, huh?"
"Please, don't say that again. She's always running around the house these days, pretending to be a cop and saying she'll be like me." Liz said, clearly pleased through the flush on her pale cheeks.
"Anyway, introduce yourself, sweetheart."
Cherub extended a hand toward me. "Hi! My name's Caroline Fowbes! Let's be friends!"
Which, of course, made a lot of sense.
Caroline Forbes, even at two years old, was as demanding as her future-self. Not even ten minutes after we were let to play alone, she dragged me out of my house, declaring how playing barbie was too boring and adventuring was more exciting.
Who knew she was such a tomboy at this age?
Predictably, we were caught as soon as we stepped a foot out the front door.
"Where are you two going?" Asked the dark-skinned woman, surprised. "Caroline Forbes and Elena Gilbert, right?"
Stupified, we couldn't do anything other than stare, wide-eyed. The woman raised an eyebrow, lips curled on a side in an amused smirk when she realized what exactly we'd attempted to do.
"Oh, my, what little troublemakers..." She grinned, and nudged a little someone that I hadn't even noticed out of her hiding place behind the woman's long skirt. "Come on, darling, don't be shy."
Hesitantly, the bundle of blue popped out it's head to peered out at us. Green eyes uncannily resembled puppy eyes as she continued to stare shyly at us.
"H-hi... I'm Bonnie Bennett."
So the Three Helion was created.
.
.
done! so how's it? give me ur reviews and comments below~ they motivate me to write more.
also, if you notice, this fic's chapters are gonna be shorter than my other one (SKYSCRAPER). but that doesn't mean i will always update this faster.
thx for reading! see ya xx
