It was raining on the day that I decided to go home- fitting considering the storm that had raged on the day that I had left. It had been almost five years to the day since I had taken off- the streets of New York beckoning, promising to take away all memory, all inkling of what I had lost. The flight that had taken me away from Mystic Falls, Virginia had felt like it had dragged on for hours and yet the one that returned me home passed in the blink of an eye. The uneasy feeling that had settled into my gut the moment that I had gotten onto the plane only intensified as we were taxied up to the gate, the metal chain extending from my pocket making a soft jingling noise as I bounced my leg up and down- a nervous habit.
I barely heard the announcement made over the intercom, the only since that anything had even been said the sudden movements in the cabin around me. Robotically I joined the crowd, pulling my backpack from the overhead bin and shuffling towards the front of the plane. The moment that my boots set down in the terminal the reality of what I was doing hit me full force, my stomach churning until I knew I was going to be sick. I barely spared anyone a glance as I shoved past the other passengers, determined to make it to the bathroom before I lost the contents of my stomach. The muttered protests as I elbowed my way through didn't register, only the sour taste in my mouth and the feeling of my feet shifting under me. The room to the bathroom stall had barely slammed shut, my backpack hitting the floor with a dull thump before I was leaning over the porcelain bowl, my stomach clenching. And then nothing.
For all the nausea that I was feeling nothing came up. Instead I was left kneeling on the floor, my cheek resting against the cold metal wall of the stall, my e yes closed. A few deep shuddering breaths and I forced myself to my feet, the words of my roommate and best friend repeating themselves over and over again in my head.
"Remember you're doing this for yourself." Ric had told me, sprawled out across my bed as I packed, "You haven't seen your brother in five years. Isn't it time that you went back and finally laid your demons to rest?" The answer to that had been a very firm no, but the begging and pleading of one Caroline Forbes, my pseudo younger sister wasn't something that I could just ignore- as much as I didn't want too it was time to go home.
Slinging my backpack over my shoulder I exited the stall, the cool water from the sink that I splashed over my face helping somewhat to calm me down despite how much my stomach tried to tell me that I was making a giant mistake. Swallowed I glanced up at myself in the mirror of the dingy airport bathroom, the blue eyes staring back at me looking haunted. Dark circles surrounded those eyes, black hair stringy and down to my shoulders giving me an almost gaunt hollow look. Reaching over for a paper towel I scrubbed roughly at the pale skin under my eyes, determined to get rid of the black streaks that littered my cheeks from where my liner had smudged. Squaring my shoulders I have one final firm swipe at my eyes before tossing the wadded up piece of paper into the trash and walking out the door, ready to face whomever it was that had come to pick me up.
It didn't take me long to realize that my brother was waiting for me. The last person that I wanted to see was standing over by the luggage carousel. His blond hair was tousled, spark spiky strands hanging down slightly in his face, partially obscuring his jade green eyes. He was staring down at his shoes, concentrated on his converse like they were going to hold all the answers in the world. I didn't say anything as I approached him, taking the time to study him as I walked forward. Stefan had been innocent when I left, barely eighteen years of age to my twenty one, and time had changed him. Black ink covered what little skin that I could see, the winding ropes that twisted down his arm almost reminding me of the sleeves that covered my own. A smirked curved the corner of my mouth when I got close enough to see the twisting of a name across the bottom half of his forearm, the smooth black ink intertwined with a dark red rose.
"Hello brother," I muttered shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. Stefan's head snapped up quickly, his pierced bottom lip between his teeth, the perfect picture of awkwardness.
"Hey Damon," Stefan repeated, shifting himself. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, his teeth sinking harder into his bottom lip before nodding towards the carousel, "Any bags?" I shook my head. I wasn't planning on staying long and because of that I had shoved everything that I needed into the backpack slung over my shoulder. Anything that I didn't have, I'd buy. "Okay then, let's go." I followed obediently up the escalator and out towards the parking lot, the silence between the two of us growing under it felt suffocating. There was a lot that we needed to talk about, not that I wanted to talk about it but the forced calm wasn't helping- in fact it was driving me insane. I whistled under my breath when Stefan unlocked the passenger door of a cherry red mustang, the slick gleam of the old fashioned car demanding my respect.
"Nice ride." Stefan didn't bother replying to me, only grunted in agreement and went around to climb into the driver's seat. The silence in the car was even worse then what had followed the two of us through the airport, growing until I felt like I was choking on it. Snorting softly I glanced at the writing on his arm again, the ink barely visible in the glow from the dashboard. "So who's Elena?" Stefan cocked an eyebrow but didn't respond at that moment, barely glancing over at me.
"My wife," He barely spared me a glance as he spoke but instead shrugged his shoulder not bothering to say any more about her past that point, not that I blamed him. I nodded and let the conversation fall in to silence once more, the tension between the two of us growing until it felt like you could cut it with a knife. I studied Stefan from my side of the car, leaning back against the door so that I could see him a little clearer. Stefan's eyes were glued to the road, his lips thinned into a line, only the occasional passing street lamp overhead really providing any clarity to see him with. I stared at him, taking in each scrawl of that name, the wife's, across his body. From the large piece on his forearm, to the hint of the name again, poking out from beneath the collar of his shirt, it looked like he was covered in marking. I opened my mouth to ask another question about it when we pulled into the driveway of the boarding house, Stefan shifting the car into park and turning it off abruptly. "Listen Damon, Elena doesn't know anything about Katherine and I would rather keep it that way." And then Stefan was climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind him. I scrambled to follow, feeling slightly awkward as I walked up the stairs towards the house. I hadn't been in since I was twenty-one but from what little contact I had had with Caroline my room had been left completely intact.
"Hey beautiful! I'm home!" Stefan bellowed as he walked through the front door, me lagging as I followed behind him. I wanted to go up to my room, to pretend that I wasn't in my own personal hell again but the squeal of a very familiar blond as she came around the corner and launched herself at me kept me in place.
"Where the hell have you been," She gushed, pulling me even closer to her, her hands reaching up to squish my cheeks.
"Let me go Barbie," I gritted out as much as I could, though honestly it felt good to see how much she missed me in the time that I was gone. She reluctantly released me, the corner of her lips curled up into her beaming smile, "You have to come meet everyone." It didn't matter that I didn't want to meet anyone, that I wanted to go to my room, it didn't matter that I was still reeling from the fact that my younger brother was married and I hadn't even known he had gotten married, nothing mattered except that Caroline when she put her head to it always got her way. She used her entire body weight against me as she dragged me down the hall towards the kitchen the voices that we could hear a strange mixture of familiar and new.
"Where is he?" Came a particularly husky sounding voice that had me cocking my head to the side, craning my head around the corner to see if I could find who that voice belonged too.
"He was standing next to the door talking to Caroline last I saw him," That was my brothers voice, I would know it anywhere.
"Do you think he'll like me?" I didn't get my brother a chance to respond before I was walking around the corner and stopping dead in my tracks. There standing next to my brother was a woman that looked like my ex-wife Katherine Pierce but even as my heart picked up speed I knew with every part of me that it couldn't possibly be her. Katherine Pierce, my ex-wife and the reason that I hadn't been home in five years had killed herself, Katherine was dead. She smiled as she approached me, her hand held out and a sparkle in her eyes.
"Hi," She blushed, I'm Elena." I licked my lips as I looked up and down the length of her body before turning and walking out of the kitchen without saying a word to her. Stefan had said she didn't know anything about Katherine, didn't know what had happened that made it so that I would kill my brother if I knew that I could get away with it- didn't know that my brother had been sleeping with my wife. "Did I do something wrong?" I heard her question as I stormed out of the kitchen, ignoring Caroline calling after me. The path to my bedroom was a familiar one even though I hadn't taken it in five years, and I made it with little thought, only relaxing (as well as I could) when my door hand been slammed and locked. Resting my head back against the frame I squeezed my eyes shut. Ric had encouraged me to come out here to face my demons, to maybe see if I could fix things between my brother and myself, but as I stood there in my dark, empty room all I could think of was one thing- revenge.