Alright guys! New story!
Inspired by TVD, SOA, and TTR series, though I do not own any of them, soooo disclaimer.
Posting early for my Twitter friend, Helena's birthday!
Hope ya'll enjoy!
(Will alternate POV)
ELENA
I didn't mean to kill him, even though the bastard deserved the fate he got.
It was an accident.
These are the words I have told myself over and over for the past three months.
I didn't mean to.
He deserved it.
Self defense.
Yet, no matter how many times I repeat the mantra, the guilt in my chest has yet to fade.
It just spins in a repetitive circle; same as the images that have been plaguing my dreams since the night it all happened.
How long will it be before I can look down at my hands without picturing the blood that had covered them?
Nobody ever tells you how red it really is, when it's pouring out of a gaping neck wound, soaking everything around it.
The memories play in my mind like a recorded tape stuck on rewind, robbing me of sleep and lately, my sanity as well.
The past ninety seven days had yet to dull the vividity, and I doubt any amount of time will be sufficient in burying the past.
The way my family had buried the body of Kol Mikaelson.
But even before that drastic event had taken place, ruining life as I had always known it, I had already accepted that any likelihood of normality would never be a part of my future.
I am different than my peers.
Where the majority of the students at St. Andrew's Academy are trust fund babies with nice, hard working, rich parents, and I have been labeled as an outsider for my association with the Georgia chapter of the Founding Family Motorcycle Club.
Actually, that's not true, I'm not a pariah for mere association, but being the only child of the Club President wasn't winning me any popularity contests.
It isn't something that has ever bothered me though; not really.
I was raised among the grit and leather, never thinking that the life my parents led was a bit unusual, despite the whispers of my classmates.
Police, guns, sex, drugs, and motorcycles were introduced to me very early on, and members of the club had joined and died in my short lifetime.
So I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that I would eventually be pulled into the more questionable actions of the club.
That one day, the blood might end up on my hands…
And that was exactly what had happened; even if it was an accident.
"We're here," a forcefully cheery voice calls back to me from the passenger's seat of the sedan I am riding in, and I look up at my aunt's smiling face.
Miranda is a kind woman with dark hair and big grey eyes.
Her cheerful disposition, while fine for the first ten minutes of the car ride, is starting to wear on my nerves.
Still, for the sake of being polite, I try to smile back and accomplish no more than a small twitch of the lips.
Oh well. E for effort?
"Let me get your bags, Elena," My Uncle Grayson pipes from the driver's seat, killing the engine before getting out of the vehicle.
Following his example, I unbuckle and do the same, trying not to think of how foreign my name sounds on his tongue.
He hasn't said much since he and Miranda had picked me up from the airport, and to be honest, I don't blame him.
After all, what is there to say to your estranged brother's daughter who was only moving in with you because her parents thought some distance between her and the illegal crime she commited would be the best thing for everyone?
My father and uncle had gone years without speaking before that call had been made, and I am surprised the man had even agreed to take me in.
Though, I've decided that I'm glad he did.
While leaving the only life I've ever known behind is more than a little terrifying, there's a small relief in the idea of distance.
A fresh start.
That's what I need, and what I'm practically guaranteed to get here in Mystic Falls, Virginia.
Aka, a small town in the middle of fucking nowhere.
No prestigious prep school kids to look down on me; no imminent threats of death or retaliation on the horizon either.
Safe.
Mystic Falls feels safe.
And for me, that is a completely foreign concept.
"I made the guest room up for you," Miranda says as we enter their home; a modest two story house with a large front porch that wraps halfway around it.
"But you'll have to share a bathroom with Jeremy."
Right.
Somehow I don't think my fourteen year old cousin is going to be too thrilled at the prospect, but I'm not about to remind his mother of that.
"You'll start school on Monday. I've already filled out your enrollment forms, and your father said he was making arrangements for you to get a vehicle to drive while here."
We're inside now, and Uncle Grayson is carrying my bags up a flight of stairs before I have a good chance to look around.
Since Miranda is still speaking to me, it seems rude not to follow them up.
The bedroom they put me in is nice.
Spacious and cute in a teenage way that makes me wonder if my aunt ordered the entire thing out of a catalogue.
It's the kind of room that the popular girls always have in the teen drama flicks, and I sit on the edge of the bed experimentally, eyeing the floral pattern.
Grayson sets my two suitcases down next to me.
Two suitcases.
That's the epitome of everything in my life. Clothes, valuables, personal belongings...two suitcases.
"Miranda," my uncle thankfully cuts off whatever new question the woman is about to ask, "Why don't you go ahead and grab Jeremy from school. Elena will need some time to settle in, and then we can all get dinner at the Grill?"
My aunt smiles, "Great idea. Just let us know if you have any questions, sweetheart!"
I nod and force another smile before she finally leaves the room.
Grayson remains quiet as well, until he is sure she's down the stairs and the front door has opened and closed behind her.
"Sorry," he addresses me then, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck, "I'm sure this must all be a little...overwhelming."
Yeah, no kidding.
I shrug my shoulders, "She's nice."
"She is," he agrees, "And she's happy you're going to be staying with us."
I doubt that, but even if it is true, his tone makes me feel as if the feeling isn't mutual.
"And you?" I ask him, not bothering to beat around the bush.
If I am going to be staying for any long period of time, it'll be better to have everything out in the open.
My uncle looks at me for a long moment, finally meeting my stare.
His eyes are a pale blue, like my father's.
And like my father, he's slim, with thinning brown hair that is almost the same color as my own long brunette waves.
But that's where the similarities between the two men end.
My father is a criminal whose leather kutte is his signature statement.
Grayson is a doctor, a family man, and he looks the part in his blue button up shirt and khaki pants.
There is also something parental in his stare, which is slightly intimidating at the moment, until he finally speaks.
"I think John and Isabel made the right call, sending you here. Club business with the Family can get messy and a nice young girl shouldn't be in the middle of it."
Ha.
"Too late for that," I point out, and he shakes his head.
"No. It isn't. John didn't tell me all the specifics, but he told me about the club's involvement with the Highway Kings. It's clear that you needed some time away from it all. Life without the Family is possible, Elena, and it's safer. It is safe here, in Mystic Falls."
Considering that, I glance around the room, "I suppose you would know."
After all, he'd managed to get away from the life years ago.
His chuckle is dry, but warm, "Yes, I suppose I would."
If he were anyone else, I never would have thought to ask the question burning on my lips.
I've been taught from a young age that the MC is a boy's club; no membership means no right to ask questions.
But something about Grayson's easy nature and transparent concern makes me think that perhaps he will be honest with me.
"You left the Founders," I start carefully, "Before you ever patched in, or even prospected."
And there it is; that guarded look I'd been given many times before, but still, my uncle nods, "I did."
"Why?"
This time, it takes him longer to answer, "I...wanted something different than their lifestyle. Than the way I was raised."
Hesitantly, he reaches over and pats my shoulder, "It's okay to want more, Elena. I hope you realize that."
Then the moment is over.
"I'll leave you to sort your things. Be sure and message John, let him know you made it here."
A nod back, and he's gone.
I take a breath, then fall back onto the mattress, wondering if it's possible to sink so deeply into it, that I can disappear for good.
It's Friday afternoon, and even for a town as small as Mystic Falls, the restaurant we end up going to is pretty busy.
Seeing as it's one of the few in town though, I guess that makes sense.
It's a homey little bar and grill, with background music, pool tables, and nice waitresses.
I eat a burger that isn't half bad, as my cousin, Jeremy, talks about his latest art project at school.
He looks a little like me, with darker hair and dark eyes, though the shade is different than my own.
He seems like a nice kid, as the four of us talk, eat, then finish the evening with a game of pool.
It's all so mundane, so Hallmark family normal, that I'm starting to wonder if perhaps I'm dreaming.
A few pinches on my arm assure me that I am, in fact, wide awake and hundreds of miles from home.
Like it or not, maybe this is the new normal.
I want to like it, honestly; but that means trusting it to last, and if there is anything that growing up around the Founding Family has taught me, it's that trust in the wrong thing can get you killed.
Keeping me alive, and preferably out of jail, requires that I be here and that I make this new normal work for me.
But trust isn't part of the deal.
"That's game!" Grayson calls, as I straighten with my pool stick, "The girl's won."
Miranda high-fives me for shooting the eight ball flawlessly into the corner hole, and this time, my smile to her is genuine.
"In your defense, I've had a lot of practice," I tell my uncle.
It's true.
There are three pool tables in the Founder's club house, and I'd learned how to hustle with the best by the age of nine.
Grayson smiles back, "Or you had a stroke of beginners luck. We'll come back next week and try again."
Because I'm still going to be here in a week.
In a month.
The exact amount of time is undetermined, but my father did made it clear that this wasn't going to be a short visit.
I try not to focus on the specifics and instead, decide to enjoy my victory while it lasts.
We'd originally planned to leave after the game wrapped up, but Grayson decides to buy us ice cream as a winner's prize.
It's late March, and isn't quite warm enough to justify having ice cream yet, but I'm not about to complain.
A giant bedroom, dinner, and now ice cream?
If my new extended family is trying to buy me, there are certainly worse ways for them to do it.
We step outside after finishing our desserts, and the cooling spring air holds just enough chill that I rub my bare arms against the temperature.
The sun is setting, but still visible, which means it's going to get even colder tonight.
Note to self; be sure to bring a sweater everywhere you go until summer officially arrives.
Virginia is a bit cooler than Georgia, and the last thing I need, on top of all the chaos that is already unfolding in my life, is to catch a cold and start school in a state of complete misery.
"Here," Jeremy shrugs out of his jacket, and offers it to me, having noticed my poor attempts at warming myself.
I begin to protest, but he drapes it over my shoulders before I can, so I tell him thank you instead.
They are all being so kind, and they don't even know me.
I really don't deserve it.
If they only knew the real reasons that necessitated my transfer, perhaps they wouldn't have allowed me here at all.
Before I can self reflect in pity too much, however, my attention is diverted.
Is that….no.
No! No! No! No!
In the distance, there's the unmistakable sound of motorcycle engines, and I freeze in the parking lot.
I'm too far from home for anyone to have followed me, and no one from the Kings know that my father has family in Virginia anyways.
But that doesn't stop the panic from rising up and seizing in my chest, until the riders come into view.
Only then do I let out a breath of relief.
A couple of guys on bikes, and they are about my age.
Not threatening men with hidden weapons and a crown on the back of their leather kuttes.
I study the boys as they park and dismount their bikes, and notice firstly that they aren't wearing helmets.
Idiots. All three of them.
They're joined quickly by a girl with dark skin and tight jeans, who must have been waiting for them near the entrance.
She wraps her arms around the taller of them and immediately begins making out with him.
The other two make audible groans, shoving at the couple, until they are rough housing their way inside, laughs and insults being shared.
"Elena?" Miranda calls, and I spin around to see that they are waiting for me to get into the vehicle.
"Sorry," I murmur as I open the door and slide in next to Jeremy.
We pull out of the parking lot, passing the bikes as we do so, and I catch a flash of something on the gas tank of the nearest Harley.
Some kind of bird.
I push it to the back of my head as we turn onto the road, because it doesn't have anything to do with me, so really, it doesn't matter.
Alrighty! Ya'll know the drill. Tell me what you think, and if this is worth continuing :)