Existential Crisis

He didn't care. He just didn't care what happened anymore. If a car came by and he decided he had the energy to feed, then fine, that wouldn't be anything new for the past century. Kill and turn it off. That's what he had done for so damn long. Rose had called him out on it, seen right through him. She had told him that you couldn't really turn it off, not completely. And she was right. He'd just gotten so damn good at pretending not to care. He had spent the past 169 years practicing it. He'd only been 25 years old when that bitch Katherine destroyed his life. But, he still remembered it, still remembered what it had felt like to care and be disappointed and take joy in the little things and want to do right by someone and do something with your life. Yet, somewhere along the line when he accepted he was facing eternity, he decided it was too hard to do that forever. But, he did remember. It was laughable to think he-or anyone-could ever really forget all of it.

So much had been expected of him even then. By his age back then, you were supposed to be a full functioning adult, you were supposed to join the rebel cause. And he did. And he had failed at that, too. He had tried to join the rebel cause…and then deserted. There had been so much he wanted no part of: the politics of it all, how it tore families apart and all the death that seemed so senseless at the end of every day when, grey or blue, they were just boys fighting for what they believed in. What did he believe in? He had always been supposed to be the responsible older brother that watched out for his little brother and stepped up in the family. He'd mostly accomplished neither. And he'd been reminded of that every godforsaken day. The insufferable princess Stefan with all his morals and righteousness-as if it made it all okay-had been there day in and day out, assuring him it wasn't too late to change. It had just been too much to take.

No. No, he could not be in the house right now, with Stefan's concerned looks every time god forbid he might have actually dared care about someone; and Elena's actually sincere concern he couldn't quite rebuke. But, he wouldn't have it. He didn't need their sympathy. He needed to be alone. And so here he was. If a car came speeding by, maybe that would be best. No, it wouldn't kill him, that would be too kind, but it'd at least give him a distraction. After all, he didn't deserve it to go so easily. What had sympathy and caring and love ever gotten him? For nearly 169 years, he had told himself he loved Katherine and believed in her to come back and keep her promise. He had put all his energy into devoting himself to finding Katherine. It had distracted him from everything else, allowed him an outlet to channel everything around and let everything else disappear. And then the impossible happened. Katherine had come back, but she had broken her promise. And her freaking doppelganger showed up and fell in love with his infuriating little brother, inadvertently weaseling herself into his life as well. And the two events combined had simultaneously slowed chipped away at the façade he had been maintaining for all these years. Slowly given him reason to need to feel something again.

And what had he done with it? Since arriving in Mystic Falls, he'd turned a new vampire, one who'd been a teenage drug addict at that. Yea, because that was always going to go well. He'd killed his brother's best and oldest friend on Stefan's birthday. Yes, he said he'd been trying to protect them, but again, at the cost of someone who'd done nothing wrong. He'd threatened both Bonnie and Elena. Bonnie, he couldn't really care less about, but Elena. Elena, try as he might to hate her likeness to Katherine and her caring nature, was too sincere and loyal, for him to ever really hate her. And what had he done there? Done everything thing he could for her? Hardly. No. No, he'd gone and killed her baby brother. And yet, she somehow had found it in herself to still be worried about him tonight. He didn't deserve it. And he didn't deserve it because he had cared about Rose, he couldn't deny that. Rose hadn't tried to change anything about him, but she also hadn't let him get away with anything. She had challenged him to be honest with himself and embrace what was in front of him, good or bad. Now, it felt like he had given her his trust-something he didn't do lightly-only to betray her. Rose had done nothing wrong and it had been him Jewels was after. So he'd done what he could for her, but it still hadn't been enough.

And apparently the universe agreed. It was nearly dawn and no car was too stupidly kind enough to drive by. But, he still couldn't go back to the house. Not yet. The whiskey could only drown out so much and apparently it hadn't been enough. Blood. He was a vampire. That much he had always known for the past century. He didn't need whiskey. He didn't need sympathy. He needed to get away from this place and get food.