warning: flashbacks and final scenes are NOT chronological
A CURSE BETWEEN US;;
part two
"So, Stefan, enlighten me," Klaus says, lounging back in his seat. "What makes you worthy of an Original like my sister? She's pure vampire and you're no more than a diluted bloodline." He's not a big fan of Stefan Salvatore, but the way Rebekah looks at him, the way he makes her smile—it has earned him the benefit of the doubt.
"Don't listen to him, Stefan." Rebekah scowls at him. "Nik's an elitist."
"Sofia?" Klaus looks at the younger Salvatore. If she can't sell him on her own brother, then what place does he have with Rebekah?
Sofia glances at her brother, and the two of them share a look only siblings would understand. "My brother, dear Nik, is an artist," she answers, which sends both her and Stefan in a laughing fit. There's something fake about it, about her laughter, but judging by everyone else's reaction Rebekah and Stefan don't notice.
"Don't let her fool you." Stefan chuckles. "She's quite cunning herself. She's had more practice."
"You're older," Klaus says, and while Rebekah and Stefan turn their attention to each other again, Sofia stops laughing. He doesn't usually display his abilities in front of other vampires, but he can see Sofia's fascination with him. It's in the way she keeps herself, her body turned to him, her eyes finding his every few minutes, her lips parting even when she's not speaking.
"I turned at sixteen, Stefan at seventeen," Sofia says. "But we're twins."
"A vampire family too." He smiles. "Rebekah tells me you have another brother."
"Damon," Sofia answers, but casts down her eyes. "He's around." She shrugs. "When it's convenient." When she looks back up at him there's something defiant about it, as if saying she doesn't need whatever pity he might be feeling, or consider feeling. So he doesn't pity her, nor is he sad about her situation, caught between two brothers he knows aren't on speaking terms.
"You all turned?" Klaus asks.
Sofia chuckles and scoots closer to him. "Our father was an elitist too," she says, and sounds so much older than she pretends to be. "He killed my brothers when he found out they were vampire sympathizers."
"The fool," Stefan interjects. "Too blind to see his little girl had already been turned."
Sofia turns her head to look at her brother, but doesn't move away from him. "I can't help I was his favourite," she teases.
"And who can blame him?" Klaus says, smiling wide once Sofia turns to look at him again. It's not a lie, she's an exquisite creature; the way she looks, the way she holds herself – someone once upon a time taught her well, and it can't have been Stefan; a vampire, then, much older than herself.
#
"Why should I believe any of this?" Stefan follows closely behind him while he makes his way back to his human guard.
"When she wakes up tell her to meet us at Gloria's bar," Klaus compels the helpless human, "then volunteer your carotid artery and let her feed until you die," he commands, and continues on his way.
"Where're we going?" Stefan asks.
"You think I'm lying, Stefan. You and I knew each other." He almost divulges how intimately he knew Sofia, but refrains from doing so. The thrill is in the chase, never in the capture. "You trusted me with one of your secrets, and now I'm gonna prove it to you."
"How?"
"We're going to your old apartment."
#
"Shh-hh-hh," her index finger lies loosely against her lips when she silences him, alternated only with her laughter. "You'll wake up all the neighbours," she laughs, an arm hooked in his as they both sway against each other. They're both a little tipsy, but it isn't anything they haven't been before.
"You don't stay with your brother?" he asks.
"Stefan has an apartment downtown," Sofia answers, unlocking the door to her own flat. "Right next to an all-girls boarding school."
He laughs. Of course.
"But just like Stefan," she adds, opening the door, "I like my privacy."
They enter a single room, so much smaller than he imagined it would be, but it's cosy rather than tiny. The apartment is lavishly decorated in a baroque style, deep reds bathing the room in warmth. "Welcome to my humble abode," Sofia says. "How about another drink?"
He's behind her at incredible speed, but Sofia doesn't startle, even though her heartbeat speeds up. "How about—" His lips are at her neck, hovering over her skin. He caresses his fingertips up her spine; her dress is so low-cut at the back it's almost completely naked. "—something else?"
Sofia turns, and takes a step away from him. "But Nik, what about my virtue?" she asks, chest heaving deeper.
He laughs. "I think we're past that." He takes a step closer, Sofia another step back.
"Well, what about my brother?" She smiles, biting down on her bottom lip. She loves this game they play far too much, he thinks, but then if she didn't he wouldn't be nearly as fascinated with her.
Her back hits the bedpost behind her. He closes the distance between their bodies in one smooth move forward. "I think—" he says, lips a hair's breadth away from hers, his body pulsing with want. They've played this game for long enough now. He wants her almost as badly as she wants him; she's made no secret of it. "I can handle your brother."
Sofia smiles wide, but waits for him to make the first move. Patience is such a beautiful virtue in a vampire. When he kisses her it's deep and greedy, one hand around her throat while the other hikes up the skirt of her dress. He lifts up her leg, draping it across his waist and pushes his groin up against hers. Sofia moans in his mouth.
They do wake up the neighbours. All of them.
#
Stefan had taken him to his apartment the first night Rebekah and Sofia had decided they needed some girls-only fun. It was here that Stefan had shared his secrets, one of them anyway, the names written in black ink on the closet wall.
"Why'd you bring me here?" Stefan asks.
"Your friend, Liam Grant, the one who drank his wife's blood," he starts, reminding Stefan he caught quite a few of his tricks in the time they spent together. "I never could figure out why you wanted his name. And then you told me your little secret." He looks at Stefan. "It was all part of your special little ritual."
He sees Stefan connect the dots before the words are out of his mouth. "To write it down," Stefan says.
"And relive the kill. Over and over again." He walks over to the closet and opens it, housing so many of Stefan's transgressions, and looks at him. "You believe me now?" he asks. But the confusion doesn't leave his companion's eyes, not even when Stefan pushes past him. He takes a few steps back, leaving Stefan whatever privacy he can, allowing Stefan to realize just how big a secret it was that he had shared. Stefan won't be able to ignore this, the truth in his words.
Rebekah and him stayed in a local hotel themselves, mostly because they never remained in one place for too long, but Sofia and Stefan, after having lived in Chicago for several years, they preferred the anonymity of separate apartments. Sofia's was even smaller than Stefan's, with the bathtub in a corner of the single room flat.
#
The water spills over the side of the bathtub when Sofia reaches for her champagne glass on the floor. "The doppelganger," she muses, settling back against his chest again, her skin silky smooth and wet against his own. "Sounds like something Sigmund Freud invented."
He knows it's her attempt at distracting him from this new topic he's broached, but it misses its effect. He can't help it, even after all these years his anger flares inside him like a flame when he thinks about Katerina. "I found her once," he says, lost in thought. "But I was betrayed."
"Oh, it's a she," Sofia continues to joke. "Of course it is." He chuckles nonetheless, the water sloshing around them. Sofia knows how to coax upside down reactions from him too. She settles her head back on his shoulder. "And you've been looking for another way since?" Sofia asks.
"The Petrova line died out," he says, lips against her temple. "Katerina had no children." A shiver runs up Sofia's spine so violently he can feel it himself. "What's the matter?" he asks, his hands on her shoulders when she sits up in the bath.
Sofia falls silent. He can tell there's something she's not sharing, or not willing to share. He sits up behind her, and kisses her shoulder. "I think we need more hot water," he says. He doesn't have to know her secrets, she doesn't owe him any.
Sofia reaches for the tap and turns it, warm water flowing from it.
#
He smiles to himself. Of course he knows now what caused Sofia's hesitation; she knew who Katerina was, because it was Katerina who turned her, the same woman who broke up her family. He wonders why she never told him. Maybe part of her felt like she owed Katerina.
Stefan's voice shakes him from his memories. "Look what I found," he says. Klaus turns and walks over, Stefan holding out a bottle of scotch for him. "1918. Single malt."
"My favourite," he says. "Let's go and find someone to pair it with."
#
When Rebekah joins him at the bar Sofia's still on the dance floor with Stefan. "She's a peach, isn't she?" Rebekah asks. He smiles, still looking at Sofia, twirling around, her laughter filling the entire room. "Do you love her?"
He looks at his sister and wonders if she asks because Sofia has sparked a hint of jealousy in her. It wouldn't be the first time. But when he doesn't immediately answer he realizes it's a serious question from sister to brother, one filled with genuine curiosity and perhaps a little concern. "You know me better than that, little sister."
"Yes, I know." Rebekah sighs. "Love is a vampire's greatest weakness." She recites his own words back to him, but he still holds true to them. Right now Rebekah is his greatest weakness. He won't allow Sofia to become one as well. "We do not feel, and we do not care." But when she says 'we', Klaus knows all too well she just means him. Rebekah never had any problems feeling.
"Exactly." He's not incapable, just unwilling, and something tells him that's a skill Sofia has mastered better than him. There's a reason, even he has his reasons, someone in their past that showed them what disastrous consequences love can have for a vampire. For Sofia, he reckons it's this mystery woman that turned her brothers. The same vampire that turned her.
"'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all," Rebekah says, and leaves him alone at the bar. He thinks she should know better than recite some Tennyson and expect him to learn his lessons. But perhaps it's her own justification for her softer spots.
#
"Where's Rebekah?" Gloria asks when she places two beers on the bar for them.
"She'll be here," he answers. "I can't just conjure her on demand." He looks at Stefan, who has turned into his old broody self. "What's with you? I thought Chicago was your playground?"
Stefan scoffs. "So this is why you asked me to be your wingman?" he asks, his tone derisive again. "Because you liked the way I tortured innocent people?"
"Well, that's certainly half of it."
"What's the other half?"
He refrains from saying Sofia just to antagonize Stefan, and part of it would be too close to an actual truth. Stefan was someone he initially allowed in his life because Rebekah demanded it, but Sofia definitely made it easier for him to do so. She was his peace offering. But somehow Stefan had quickly become more important to him than Sofia. "The other half, Stefan, is that you used to want to be my wingman."
#
"She adores you, you know," Stefan says. Klaus looks up to meet his eye. "My sister," Stefan adds.
He glances across the room, where he just sees Sofia leave the bar with what's undoubtedly an unwitting victim. "But?" Klaus asks. He's just offered Stefan advice on Rebekah and her infatuated ways, maybe Stefan's repaying him in kind.
Stefan takes a breath and studies the shot glass in his hand. "I'm not sure she's capable of loving someone," Stefan answers. He wonders if Stefan knows Sofia at all. "She never has." Klaus can tell it makes him sad. If he were in Stefan's shoes he doubts he'd feel the same. This way she's safe, acting heartless is the perfect defence against any sort of weakness. "I want more than anything for her to be happy."
It's curious to him how much of Stefan's humanity shines true whenever Sofia's involved. He imagines it isn't much different when he's talking about Rebekah. Maybe Sofia is Stefan's weakness.
"You're wrong," Klaus says. He can be sentimental if the occasion calls for it. And if it helps Stefan understand his sister better, how can he not offer his own advice? "I think all she needs to be happy is to see you and your brother happy."
"Damon?" Stefan snickers. "He's not—" Stefan shakes his head, but refrains from tearing down his brother. Klaus thinks he does that for Sofia, rather than his own sake. Stefan's hand lands on his shoulder. "You are more of a brother to me than Damon," he says.
He doesn't take the discussion any further because he can't bring himself to ruin the moment. Stefan's a true friend, a brother, and what's more important than family?
#
"To friendship," he toasts. Stefan hesitates, at first, but still raises his glass and drinks with him.
"So I'm confused," Stefan says. "If we were such great friends, then why do I only know you as the hybrid dick who sacrificed my girlfriend on an altar of fire?"
It doesn't take him long to answer. "All good things must come to an end."
#
"Do you think they're in love?" Sofia whispers, sitting pliant against him in their usual booth. He smiles, watching Rebekah and Stefan dance in the middle of the room. He wonders why this question keeps coming up; Rebekah might believe she's in love, but it'll never last; Stefan doesn't love his sister, but the idea of her, the danger and excitement she carries with her. And him and Sofia, he thinks they're closer than Rebekah and Stefan, but not in love.
"What do you think?" he asks.
Sofia thinks it through, pursing her blood red lips while she does. "I think my brother lost his heart to love once, and he became this," she answers. Sofia knows her brother better than Stefan knows her. But then from what he understands she's always been on the outside looking in. "I'm not sure he's capable when he's like this."
"Like what?" he asks, but he knows what she means. The ripper, the monster, the guiltless creature that enjoys the kill, but it's something he's come to appreciate about Stefan. If anything because Stefan has reminded him of what it's like to be a predator, superior to his prey.
"Then again," Sofia amends. "It's been a long time since I've seen him dance and smile at the same time."
Every time he thinks Sofia has surprised him for the last time she does this, look at Stefan now, with such utter love and devotion that he wonders if she'd ever allow love to be a weakness. It's a family thing, something he shared a long time ago, but after his family became vampires something changed in them. He loves his sister, and Rebekah loves him, but they've forgiven each other things that no siblings should ever have to.
His thoughts are disrupted suddenly; he feels it before Rebekah does, rippling through the room. They're not alone. "What's wrong?" Sofia asks, no doubt having felt him tense up. Her own vampire senses pick it up then too. "It's only a raid," she says, a hand on his chest meant to calm him.
"Chicago police!" someone at the door shouts.
"No, it isn't," he says, and finishes his drink in one big gulp. He takes Sofia by the hand and drags her with him. "Rebekah!" he shouts, wooden bullets flying across the room. "Come on, we've gotta go, sweetheart!"
"What the hell is going on?" Stefan shouts.
He pulls Rebekah away from Stefan, and pushes Sofia towards her brother.
"Stefan!" Rebekah calls out.
"Go!" he shouts at his sister. Rebekah runs for the exit, but he stays put, turning to Stefan and Sofia. Stefan's face reads nothing but confusion, he has no idea what's going on. It's remarkable how Sofia remains calm throughout. She knew this day would come. "Stefan, Sofia, I'm sorry, but the fun has to end here," he says.
Stefan shakes his head. "What are you talking about?"
One of his hands lands on Stefan's shoulder. He doesn't want to do this, but he has to. "You must forget Rebekah and I," Klaus says, compelling Stefan to forget. "Until I say otherwise you never knew us, Stefan. Thank you, I had forgotten what it was like to have a brother."
#
"You compelled me to forget," Stefan says.
"It was time for Rebekah and I to move on." He stares out in front of him. "Better to have a clean slate." He just never could have guessed Rebekah would choose to stay with Stefan and leave him. He'd never underestimated Rebekah's ability to love, and he'd never take it away from her, but he couldn't risk Mikael finding her. He'd rather have her hate him forever. So he'd killed his own sister.
"And Sofia?" Stefan asks. "She forgot too?"
He remembers them well, his and Sofia's parting words. "Yes," he lies. It's better for Stefan to believe his sister later disappeared because of his friend Lexi, rather that some useless pursuit to find him again. Except he knows that's not true, he never heard from her again after Chicago. He's not sure he wants to.
"But why?" Stefan asks, a different tone to his voice now, one that comes eerily close to obsession. Is that what he's looking for, Klaus wonders, a way out of his servitude? "You shouldn't have to cover your tracks." Stefan moves closer to him. "Unless you're running from someone."
He's been running for such a long time. "Story time's over," he says solemnly, taking another sip from his beer.
Stefan sighs. "I need another drink. A real one."
Klaus doesn't stop him from going.
#
He wants to disappear inside of her, sink his fangs into her skin and drink her warmth. But he knows he can't; drinking other vampires is Mikael's thing, and it would take away her strength. So he settles for this, share the hunt with her, stalk their prey together, down in an alley right next to the club. Sofia's arms are around his neck, his breath ghosting over her neck.
"Someone help me!" she screams, and a rush of excitement courses through him. It's been so long since he's felt it. "Help me, please!" Sofia shouts for anyone to hear.
And sure enough, her screams are heard. He doesn't move, just keeps her pressed tight between his body and the hard brick wall, waiting for their prey to come closer, walk into the trap. "Hey, pal!" a male voice calls out, but another pair of feet follow in his wake. Klaus feels someone grabbing his arm. "Back off," a man says, his female companion not far behind.
"Are you okay?" the woman asks Sofia, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder.
Sofia grabs for her throat. "I thought he was going to kill me," she says, faking distress.
His turn.
He gets up from the ground, bloodlust overtaking him, his eyes growing dark, his hunger pulsing inside him like a beacon. Sofia was right. Stefan was right. This does make him feel alive. He grabs his victim by the collar and bites down, fresh hot blood touching his tongue. Yes, this makes him feel alive.
"Derek!" the blonde calls out to her partner, but before she can scream Sofia has her pushed up against the wall.
"Don't scream," Sofia orders, using her compulsion, putting the fear of God in her prey, but giving her no expression for it.
"He's killing him," the woman whispers, but fails to find her voice. "Oh my God, he's killing him!" she says more strongly, tears running down her cheeks.
Sofia looks at her, her eyes growing dark. "Would you like to join him?" she asks. The woman's mouth opens, eyes going wide in terror, but all she manages to utter is a silent roar. Sofia bares her fangs, and attacks the blonde's throat.
They both savour the kill, taking longer, drinking slower than they need to until they both had their fill. The couple falls to the floor, both dead.
He looks at Sofia, blood running down her chin, her eyes still pitch-black. "Your brother was right about you," he says. Stefan might be an artist, but Sofia has her fine assortment of tricks, her games, and she's had a whole lot of practice.
She doesn't say a word, but when her eyes turn green once again she smiles, that same devious smile, just for him. Such a beautiful creature, feeling everything her brother doesn't; guilt, pain, and every other emotion that follows a mindless kill. But she stands there in front of him, knowing what she is, and completely satisfied in her existence.
He walks over to her and captures her lips with his own, blood still fresh on her lips.
#
When the other Salvatore settles down next to him at the bar he wonders if this is the spirits' ways of telling him there's a whole other world of hurt yet to come his way. Lucky for him he knows how to handle Damon Salvatore.
"I see they've opened the doors to the riffraff now," Klaus says.
"Oh, honey, I've been called worse," Damon answers.
He laughs to himself. With just those few words Damon sounds more like Sofia than Stefan ever has. Maybe she takes after both her brothers. "You don't give up, do you?"
"Give me my brother back and you'll never have to see me again."
"I am torn," he says. "You see, I promised Stefan I wouldn't let you die, but how many freebies did I really sign up for?" he asks, having entirely too much fun thinking up some of the ways to kill Damon. There's the classic where he just rips out Damon's heart, but that doesn't sound very poetic at this point. "And clearly you want to die, otherwise you wouldn't be here."
"What can I say?" Damon shrugs. "I'm a thrill seeker."
His fingers close around Damon's throat before the younger vampire has a chance to react—the bar is empty so he can have his way with Damon and not even Stefan would have to know. It's not a good night to be on his bad side. He snatches the little cocktail umbrella he'd been fiddling with from the bar. "I'm a little boozy," he says, "so you'll forgive me if I miss your heart the first few times." He jabs the toothpick end in Damon's chest. "No, that's not it." Damon groans in pain. He stabs again. "Almost."
"You want a partner in crime?" Damon manages to choke out. "Forget Stefan. I am so much more fun."
He's never had much care for Damon Salvatore, for all his charm and charisma he wasn't like Stefan, not a real ripper. A thrill seeker, yes, but not an artist. He drops Damon down to the floor. "You won't be any fun after you're dead." He smashes one of the bar's wooden chairs, and grabs one of its legs to use as a stake. But before he manages to drive it through to Damon's heart, the stake catches fire in his hand. "Really?" he asks, and turns to face Gloria. Always spoiling his fun.
"Not in my bar," she says, and points him to the exit. "You take it outside."
Damon tries to scramble up from the floor, but he pushes him back down. "You don't have to negotiate your brother's freedom," he says, deliberately avoiding any mention of Sofia. If there's anyone who might be able to get through to Stefan at this point, or beyond this point, it might be the Salvatores' baby sister. "When I'm done with him, he won't want to go back."
He staggers a step back, head spinning from the alcohol. Being back in this bar isn't the experience he'd hoped it would be. Sure, any moment now he'll return Stefan's memories, a present to Rebekah, but his own memories of Sofia—he wishes like hell they could be removed.
He halts in the doorway when he catches Gloria's last words to Damon: "You can thank your sister for that," Gloria says, and somehow he can't help but smile to himself. It's quite unexpected, he's hardly one for petty sentiment, but knowing she's watching now, however much in the periphery, could prove to be a whole lot of fun. This just became a whole different sort of game.
#
He turns to Sofia last, because he wants to put it off. He doesn't want to run again, he doesn't want to keep running. But he knows he has to. It's strange, he's never had trouble saying goodbye before. "Sofia—" he starts.
"Don't," she breathes, cutting him off, one hand clutching at her brother's arm, but Stefan is too dazed to take notice of either of them. He knows what the word implies, don't, asking him not to say goodbye or take her memories of him. But why should he spare Sofia when he begs the same things of his sister? To cut all ties, to run whenever Mikael comes close, leave behind everyone and everything they'd grown attached to. He'll leave Sofia behind, there's no doubt about that, and he should take her memories as well.
He really should.
She doesn't love him, Sofia knew what she was getting into and she'd made herself no illusion about what they were. But what she's asking now, to trust her, when she knows it's not in his character – how can she ask this? He knows the one-word implies more about her feelings for him than his feelings for her, but his own answer repays her in kind.
"You can't—" he starts, but stops himself. He can't say it, he shouldn't say it, because that might be giving her too much hope for something he will never give her.
Sofia shakes her head. "Not a word," she says. "Not ever."
#
It's only now, some ninety years later that he realizes he was right to trust her. Stefan never knew a thing, Mikael never found him, and he never saw her again. It's not in his nature, to trust so easily. Maybe Sofia had been a lapse in his judgment after all.
"All good things must come to an end," he mutters to himself, and decides to go see what's keeping Rebekah.
(two days earlier)
She doesn't want to be here. This place holds so many memories, most of them happy, delirious or drunk ones, but remembering the second happiest time in her life only sets the unhappy ones in a stark contrast. There's only one painful memory here. But it's the single memory she feels the sharpest. Don't, she'd said, right here, but then. Why had she even asked? Why had Nik granted her the request? It would've been better if she'd forgotten.
"Well, look at you," a voice sounds from behind the bar. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."
Sofia knows she doesn't look the same, how can she after all these years? And Gloria, well, she's changed even more. "Gloria." Sofia nods, making her way over to the bar. "I see you're still around." She's not sure why she's surprised; Nik always had the tendency to surround himself with powerful people.
"Drink?" Gloria asks when Sofia sits herself down behind the bar.
"Don't mind if I do."
"So what can I do for you?" Gloria asks. Sofia looks up at her. "You didn't come by just to say hello."
Sofia smiles, taking a sip from her drink. "I have it on good authority that my brother's on his way here," Sofia says. "Try to keep him alive?" She hates to ask this of Gloria or anyone else, but truth is she doesn't want to see either of her brothers, or Nik. It's been too long and any explanation now would only lead to more questions.
"Do I look like a charity auction?" Gloria deadpans. "Honey, you're a vampire. I don't answer to anyone but me."
Sofia chuckles; she can't count the amount of witches she's met that haven't somehow been employed by a vampire. Most of them were hypocrites too. "Say that again when Nik shows up."
"Klaus?"
Right, Sofia thinks, he goes by another name now. "His hybrids failed," she explains. "He wants answers."
For a witch as powerful and old as Gloria, she doesn't manage to hide the little quiver of fear that runs through her. But Sofia's impressed she even tries. "Your brother is still running in the wrong circles then."
"Yup," Sofia says, and gets up. She's better at hiding it, but inside she's screaming. Ever since she found out the doppelganger actually existed, that both her brothers had forged a bond with her, and that Nik's curse had been broken, she'd been struck with a sentiment entirely unfamiliar to her. She was worried, about both her brothers. "But it's not Stefan I'm worried about."
Stefan's safe as long as he's with Klaus, and Sofia suspects that once Nik makes it to Chicago, Stefan will be retrieving his memories as well. She hopes to God he can forgive her for lying to him. But that's only if they see each other again.
"Now Damon I could stand to save," Gloria says, perhaps in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Sofia chuckles. Damon was always the one with the charm, good days or bad days, he knew how to get things from other people. "Thanks for the drink," Sofia says, throws a money note on top of the bar, and turns to walk away.
"Sofia," Gloria calls out.
She turns on her heels.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Gloria says.
Sofia nods to herself solemnly. She considered not coming, she'd thought about flipping the switch on her humanity altogether, but that would leave her a lesser person. No, she has to see this through. No matter what the cost. "So do I," she says.
But she's not sure it's such a good position to be in: between her brothers and the only man she ever truly loved.
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