Not exactly canon compliant. Town will be called Fell's Church because "mystic falls" is a dumb name for a civil war era city.

Monster. Abomination. Useless. Every spot of impact and every bruise, the spiderweb cracks over his left shoulder where his father smashed a beer bottle, the kiss-shaped scars from cigarettes pressed into his skin. It raced through his head as he huddled in his seat on the plane, not sure what the hell was going on.

Jo. He missed Jo. He didn't know what she'd done, but he told her late one night about Joey. Joey had come into the room they'd shared with the baseball bat, shoes caked in mud, eyes bright with the furious and righteous rage of a ten year old who'd been forsaken by the world. Forsaken by the world, and he even had his own damn magic. Kai had talked him down then, rubbed his back and promised that when he was coven leader that he'd make sure things were different. Things would matter, he'd promised Joey. and he'd braided loose chunks of Joey's long, long hair (the bane of their father's existence) and they'd slept, curled in the same twin bed.

When he got the chance, he snuck into the girls' room, curled behind his twin and tucked his face into her shoulder and told her about everything. She'd comforted him then, and he'd thought she was on his side against everything.

Maybe she was as scared of merging eventually as he was. Maybe she was scared of dad.

He was scared of dad.

He felt shabby around the rest of these people, cranky and snacking and talking or reading. Joshua had put him on an evening flight after forcing him to pack his stuff up. At the end all he had was a suitcase and a backpack, all his earthly possessions inside.

Joey had watched from the top of the stairs as he was herded out by their father. Something had flashed in the younger boy's eyes, and Kai knew that they were the same.

He didn't want to think about what would happen without him there.

Then again, it wasn't like he was allowed to help much anyways. His cousin homeschooled him and made him do math workbooks and kiddy science projects while she watched her babies. He wanted to go back to normal school, like everyone else, but he knew from the look in Joshua's eyes that it wasn't going to happen.

Part of him was almost sure the flight was going to go down over the country, maybe over Nebraska. He hated Nebraska enough to die there.

He hated planes. Had never been on one, til now, and here he was. No one else even looked at him. What, were they used to lonely 13 year olds with loose hoodies and cargo shorts, big headphones over goofy big ears, with a mix tape in his cassette player and Michael Jackson and The Police and Abba coming tinnily through?

He picks at a scab on his knee and stares into the window. Right now it's Roxanne playing. He's not sure he really gets it, but the song had always kind of meshed with him. He's sure he'll wear this cassette tape thin soon, but the front pocket of his backpack has all of his half of the music him and Jo had worked so hard to collect. Hey, it was his allowance too. If she wanted any of the dumb tapes, she should've copied them or not ratted him out. It wasn't even like he'd done anything wrong. Ever since he'd accidentally siphoned some of Heather's magic when she tripped that one Easter, he'd made sure to touch his siblings as little as he could. No brushing of fingers, no cuddling, unless he could help it. He made sure to wear long sleeves whenever possible, tugged the sleeves down so he wouldn't hurt them.

Now if only his dad didn't want to hurt him.

Mom wasn't really like, there for him, either. That hurt. He was trying to pay attention and do better, but she was always busy with baby stuff. Why was everything in the coven about stupid babies? Babies, honestly, freaking sucked. They were tiny and mean and gross, and he hated himself for being mad at them because they were cute when they were sleeping.

Maybe he was just a little jealous. He pulls his knees up and tucks his face into them.

Maybe the plane will go down over one of the Dakotas. Not like there was anything in Virginia, anyways.

He gets off the plane around 2 am, limbs achey and eyes sore from forcing himself to watch out the window. He'd assumed that the plane would lose a piece in one of the wings, that it would be big and cinematic and that they'd make a movie about it in a few years. He wouldn't be a main character, probably wouldn't even be in it. It'd be about some tragic white lady and her lover, and there'd probably be russians in it, and something something bombs and something something cold war. It would be sad and have okay music and everyone would love it and it'd be a classic.

He waits by the baggage claim, staring blankly. He almost misses his suitcase, but then he wakes up enough to lunge forward and grab it, startling the elderly haitian lady who'd sat a few rows ahead of him in the plane. She swats at him playfully and he ducks his head apologetically. He thinks she knows he's freaking out, but she didn't offer him any help. He'd offered her a pork rind and she'd taken it, amused.

From there he doesn't know what to do.

He starts towards the part of the airport where you'd go to leave, and is lucky it's a smaller airport than the one in Portland. Joshua had a tight grip on the back of his neck the whole way, and didn't let him protest. He would have bugged his dad more, but he was too nervous. It wasn't until he was going through the gate alone that he realized this was real, that his dad was just getting rid of him.

His throat swells, eyes starting to feel cottony.

The pretzal shop was long closed, but Kai sits down on the bench outside of it slowly, trying not to freak out. Kids who freaked were noticeable, and then someone would want to know what he was doing. He wouldn't have an answer to that, and then people would care. Then people would bug him, and somehow it'd get back to dad and he'd be in even more trouble.

It was always his fault, anyways.

A hand falls to his shoulder and Kai startles, his cassette slipping out of his lap. He lunges to grab it, too, stammering apologies and hating his voice for breaking. Another pair of hands offer it to him, and he looks up to see… a girl. Her hair was a mass of curls, teased and eyes still suspiciously lined despite the time. Her lips were an obnoxious shade of red and she was in huge red sweater over a white shirt and pants and ballet flats, red legwarmers over those. She looked ridiculous as she passed him the cassette player, but he was pretty sure that this was the most emotion he'd ever felt.

"Whatcha listenin' to?" The girl drawls a bit when she talks, and he's about a hundred percent positive she's got a thick wad of gum packed in her cheek.

Kai can't help the surprised grin. He wipes at his face, because when did those tears even get there?, and shoves the headphones down to his neck. Now Abba starts playing loudly around his neck.

"You like ska?" She glances to her left, and he follows her gaze. Right, that. First pair of hands. Those belong to a very beautiful woman in slacks and a comfortable blouse and blazer, eyes sharp but kind as she stares him down. He feels more than a little self conscious.

"It's fine. Uh, I'm fine." He holds up his hands, waving them a bit awkwardly. "It's… I'm good."

The older woman rolls her eyes a bit. "Malachai Parker?"

"How?" He looks between them. "What?"

She flashes a picture from last year's christmas to him. He'd been on the furthest side of the christmas photo, one arm slung around Jo and grinning into the camera. There had been bruises all over his back, and he hadn't wanted to be too close to anyone. He'd been in a foul mood, terrified he'd accidentally leech power from anyone he touched, so he'd shoved his hands in wool mittens and ignored Heather and Joey teasing him over it. They didn't remember her wailing from when he had sucked her magic out of her her.

Kai's sure his face is white.

"Who are you?"

"Sheila Bennett. Has your father mentioned me?" The woman wraps an arm around the girl's shoulders, and the girl pops her gum. "This is my daughter, Abigail. She's your age."

"Abby." She corrects.

"My dad doesn't really like… talk to me about stuff." Kai stuffs his cassette player and headphones into his backpack. "So, why are you here?"

"We're taking you home, baby." Sheila reaches forward and smoothly touches his shoulder. He only flinches a little, and that's progress compared to usual.

"Why?"

Abby glanced up at her mom, then back at him. "Cuz she said so. Mom knows everything, duh."

He glances between them, then hikes his backpack up onto the bench. "Fine. Where are we going?"

Sheila pinches her daughter's cheek, but it's not in a mean way. Abby ducks down and grabs his suitcase for him, and Sheila helps him stand. She also wipes a tear off his cheek, but not in a way that it's obvious to the other girl.

He has no clue what's going on. But maybe that's okay. Worst comes to worst, he hitches a ride to go die in Nebraska.

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