Title| Ink Through Water

Genre| hurt/comfort/angst

Rating| t

Fandom| the Vampire Diaries

Couple| jeremy/kol, caroline/klaus, damon/elena

It Speaks: I am so sorry this took so long. I will update sooner this time, I cross my heart.


"and I swear I hate you leave,

But I like it anyway."

Ghost. Halsey


And, of course, everything goes to shit during the graduation ceremony.

It's Mystic Falls.

He wasn't expecting the zombie vampires and witches and hybrids though.

.

.

.

"I don't need you to save me!" Caroline shouts over the noise and Klaus prickles like a cat, the square hat in his hand goes flying and dislodging another head from the shoulders of another witch. His teeth are set on edge and Caroline glowers at him. "I said: stop it!"

Kol stands to the sidelines, considerably covered in blood and gore, but opting to stay out of the fight since these two psychos appear to be handling it. Besides, witches often like him.

A witch makes an advance from behind, hand raised, spell on her lips and Caroline backhands her so hard her head spins. Kol's warning dies in his throat as he watches Caroline, the Golden Control Freak, and his brother, the Psychotic Werewolf, duke it out "like adults."

It begins first with insults of each other's traits, followed by grief of wasted time and missed opportunities and sacrifices, and then with actual dialogue worth mentioning.

Klaus fights his way to Caroline. "Because you neurotic, controlling woman! I love you and I am not going to let you be maimed by a bunch of half-breed witches!"

"You'll pay for that hybrid!"

"Shut it!" Klaus grabs her around the throat.

"You'll pay for that!"

"Can you not see I'm trying to talk to my girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend, you douche-canoe."

Kol gives Caroline points for most creative insult.

"Well! Maybe you should have thought about that before you slept with Hayley!"

"It was before we were together!"

"Hayley!" she shrieks and her voice catches just a little at the end. "Do you have any idea how it felt to find that out!?"

"Before. We. Were. Together!" Klaus punctuates by snapping another witch's neck.

"So what exactly? I'll just go back to you and be some weirdo step-mom? Is this getting through to you at all? She's bringing a baby into this world Klaus! A baby!"

"That matters not to me."

"I'm not letting you abandon your own child, Klaus!"

Elijah looks touched by the humanitarian speech Caroline launches into (he even touches his breast pocket over his heart, expression in awe, "Oh, our Golden Caroline."). Personally, Kol is in somewhat of a marvel too. Even so unconditionally done and betrayed, Caroline wants Klaus to be a decent person. She's never wanted anything more for him. Even when they were just friends, Caroline had a distinct plan set out for Klaus, to make him good, to make him happy.

The rose hue of her cheeks turning ruddy red and the flying blonde curls turning to frizz, she's still the light of Klaus's life and his resolve crumbles around him and shatters before his eyes with the volume of Caroline's voice.

Must be nice to love someone that much.

Kol decides to let them settle this themselves and drags his brother aside with him in search of those dead vampires that might pop up. "Come with me, I need to tear something apart."

.

.

.

They weren't that hard to find.

Jeremy comes running through a throng of vampires, covered head to toe in blood splatter and looking vaguely pissed when he catches Kol's eye. "Well are you going to stand there, or help me!?" He shouts and cocks the gun like it had offended him somehow. Kol's caught in his own revere, thinking he's seeing some ghost.

Jeremy, rolling his eyes, turned to shoot a rouge vampire in the throat. He is, as usual, completely unaware of the other vampire sneaking up behind him.

Kol snaps his neck—twists it off like a soda bottle top—and lets the vampire fall where he stood. There's a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. This feels like old times.

The Hunter eyes him wearily. Kol composes himself, dropping the head on top of the body. "What?"

"Ah, never mind."

"No, tell me." Another vampire appears and Jeremy, with reflexes to kill, mechanically turns and smashes the butt of his gun into his offender's nose, he then turns the gun to shoot him in the neck. The vampire dies screaming and Kol's in love all over again. "It would be wonderful to hear you say something for once."

"Do I have to say it?" Kol grabs another vampire by her hair, yanking her back to him.

"It would be helpful." Jeremy aims, shoots, the vampire goes limp in his hands. "Since you won't let me say it!"

"That's not—why would you? Don't help—" Kol growls and then drags the (still) struggling vampire upwards. "We are not becoming Klaus and Caroline."

"Fine then, I'll stop talking and brood over my sketches and you can take off the skirt—"

"Watch it."

"Right. That's offensive to women. Caroline can at least fight in a skirt." Jeremy yanks the trigger back a few more times, propelling bullets into advancing vampires. "You're so fucking annoying!" He shouts and then runs.

"Never took you for a runner, Gilbert!"

"I'm not. Just out of ammo is all." Jeremy grins and sprints past him towards the school, leaving Kol behind in a crowd of circling vampires. "Watch my back, alright?"

"Are you kidding me!?" Kol snaps and quickly gets to work.

.

.

.

"It's over," Caroline says, her flowery dress freckled with blood. "We can breathe again."

Klaus is by her side, hands bloodied from his witch massacre, but standing as close to Caroline as he should dare. Caroline allows him with a gentle smile, but her eyes that scream that he is not forgiven. There's a smear of blood, like the curve of his brother's palm, against the side of her cheek and another one on the waist of her dress. He doesn't venture mention it though.

Kol knows she's leaving tomorrow, he saw the tickets in her glove box and the suitcases in her trunk.

That sparkling little girl will flee from their lives as quickly as she came.

And Kol will miss her. Unbidden and quietly, he will miss her and he'll have to deal with it because it's very unlikely that she would be coming back.

Klaus offers to walk her home, or drive her home, or carry her home, but she declines—too quickly. Her voice shuttering, she bites her lips together and says she'll call. She won't. Kol knows when she touches his arm. Klaus is turning towards her like the Earth spinning tilting towards the sun. Their fingers brush together for a moment. Kol cannot see, but he thinks his brother is pleading with her. "I'll call," she assures and it's the truth this time. She smiles again, just once, briefly and then she gives them her back, and walks to her car, hands tucked under her elbows.

They wait until the headlights wash over them and she disappears down the road.

Kol tskes, but the usual venom is not there. His eyes are on his brother, in his lonely darkness, and so, so quiet. He holds his gaze when Klaus looks at him, mouth set on a grim line.

"I'm going to collect Rebekah." He mutters as way of explanation and speeds off towards town. Elijah and him share a look.

"I'll get Rebekah." Elijah says, and then pauses, eyes flickering towards the tree line.

"What is it?" Kol asks, only mildly annoyed.

"The Veils' rising," Elijah says, turning away from him. "Last chance." Kol snorts but takes off towards uptown at a speed that makes his lungs burn.

.

.

.

Kol stumbles through the dark, breath going shallow in anger.

Jeremy was not leaving. Not without talking to him first. He makes it to the boarding house in record timing, and kicked open the door just as Elena was about to step out of it. The brunette gives him a look and, immediately tries to shut the door again.

"Where is he?" His fist smacks the wood, Elena pushing from the opposing side of the door with vigor. Her expression twists up and her eyes are pink again. "Elena, I will give you exactly three seconds—" She shouts, giving a robust shove to the door that makes the hinges squeal. Damon appears, wide eyed and assessing.

"I don't know!" She growls showing teeth. "I don't know—he left. He's gone!"

The door swings open again, hitting the wall of the foyer as Elena collapses to the ground, staring up at him. "He's gone." She says again, the words setting in and the same grief, the same pain as the day she burned the house took over.

.

.

.

And Kol runs runs and runs like a thief in the night, the frustration gripping him like a twist in his spine. Jeremy's gone. He could feel himself coming undone, ripping at the dress shirt he was still wearing from the ceremony, and nearly strangling himself with the tie.

Jeremy's gone. His fangs lengthen and for a moment Kol wonders if he will become a wolf under this moon with rage springing out over his skin. It's too hot out. Jeremy's gone, and I'll never see him again.

He could hear Silas' words in his ear, taunting him. He can hear Jeremy's screams. He could see him dying, laughing, crying, moaning, again and again and again. And, fuck.

And all he has left is the memory of the boy who threw a smirk over his shoulder and asked Kol to watch his back while he fought off an onslaught. No, he has many memories—good and bad. He has the playlists they liked, the house they shared, the drawings, the cigarettes, the alcohol, the clothes. In truth, Kol has so much left from Jeremy. He knows so much about him—his birthday, middle name, his past—but more and more. The trivial things, the things that made him feel so undone.

Jeremy hated the taste of black coffee, he played video games into the night, he was whip smart, he had his vices, his parent's death broke him, he loved Kol's jagged edges and wasn't afraid to press his fingers to them. He knew how Jeremy lost his front teeth, his little dreams, he never dressed for the weather, he ate popcorn kernels, he loved old books.

There had to be more though.

He got less than a year to meet and get to know Jeremy. Between first kisses to late night calls to bitter goodbyes and breakups. There had to be more. There had to be more darkness in that bright little soul Kol had been in acquaintance with. There had to be a few more screws loose because why ever would a Hunter allow himself to be swept up in a supernatural warzone?

Kol would have to unteach himself all of these things if he was going to survive. Slowly. Perhaps he could check into an asylum for a while, and mess with some heads? He had not been to England in decades.

He knew though, he would be taking Jeremy's notebooks with him.

When Kol reaches the Mikaelson house, he notices the back door is wide open.

.

.

.

The intruder is flipping through the books across the table, Jeremy's moleskin sketchbooks that still faintly reek of lighter fluid and bar brawls and sleepless nights. "God, I can't believe you kept these."

The voice is vaguely familiar in the stark silence.

The moleskin lowers onto the long glass table and the slant of pale moonlight filtering from the skylights catch the shadow of a full mouth and dark eyes, grey light turning dark hair silver. The boy is tall and toned with muscle and broad shoulders, nervous looking. Kol stands his ground for a few minutes, listening to the thump-thump-thump of Jeremy's heart and wonders if this is all just a grand hoax.

"Kol, I—" He rises from the chair awkward and fluent, like only Jeremy could, pushing the chair back and nearly tripping over himself despite his hunter training. Like a puppy excited to see someone at the door.

Kol feels a knot of dread.

"Don't come any closer." Kol warns and the boy falls short a step with his foot hovering above the polished marble. The offending limb moves back to join the other on the hardwood that divides the alcove from the dining room. His shoulders curl forward like an act of submission but looking more guilty than not.

They both wait a long moment, and Jeremy breaks it.

"I'm back."

"I can see that." Kol's earlier woe shrivels in his gut and quickly replaces with rage. Why was nothing ever simple?

More silence.

"I'm sorry about the stake in the graveyard. I only shot where I knew you would catch it. You heard me, I know you did. And, I'm sorry about that night—it was the first time seeing you in so long—I, I just couldn't—" Jeremy stumbles to explain and Kol shakes his head and turns back to the still open doors, leading into the woods.

"Go away Silas, I've had enough of your games."

There's a stutter of a heartbeat behind him and the pounding of heavy boots across the lawn. Kol keeps walking, pressing speed into the ground. He keeps his eyes on the tree line and ignores the noises of protest behind him.

"Wait a minute, you think I'm Silas!?" Jeremy snarls. He's doing a weird hopping-skipping-running thing to keep up. "That's what you're pissed about!? Kol, I was dead for the last few months, I'm just happy that you can see me! You could never see me! No matter how hard I tried, I—"

"Get out of my head."

"Kol," maybe-Jeremy says in a voice that sounds like a memory of desperation, with hands reaching for him. Kol feels a creeping along his stomach and turns away. "Kol, I'm not Silas. I'm me. I am only ever me. Ask me anything."

"You're in my head, you'll know the answer."

"Kol! What the—ohmigod, will you just—LISTEN TO ME!?"

"Sorry, Silas, ole buddy ole pal. I've got a world to be halfway around right now, see you not later. Don't forget to write. Please don't write."

Kol powerwalks across the lawn, but his keen ears still pick up the faint, "I love you" that trails from possible-Jeremy's lips as simply as saying goodbye.

Kol whirls towards him, snarling and shouts across the lawn. "Don't say that! Don't you dare say that with his mouth!"

"What!? Are you the big bad witch of the west? Did I pour pure water on you?" His voice is a high soprano of hysteria. "I said what we had been dancing around for weeks, Kol."

"Shut the hell up!" Kol shouts. "You're not him. The Veil lifted, he's gone!"

"Kol! Bonnie did something, she said I could stay!"

"Lies!"

Kol keeps walking until they're further and further from the house and Jeremy's shouts are drowning in the trees, but to his credit and Kol's dismay, he's keeping up.

"You've gotta know it's me, right? I'm right here, Kol! I'm alive!" Jeremy shouts. "And I love you."

"You want to talk this out? Fine, let's talk this out." Kol gives an exaggerated twist. "Since you've died I have tried to kill your double, your sister, Klaus and Caroline."

Jeremy looks, to his credit, unsurprised. "And since I've been back: I kissed Bonnie."

Kol goes silent for several long seconds as pang the words provided dug into him as if a thousand hornets were all simultaneously slipping their stingers into his skin. Blinding him with rage because oh sweet hell it's him. He felt numb all over, his mouth gone dry, his humor—poof. He wants to hold him, pull him close, bury his face into his chest as well as his claws.

"I hate you," Kol says with all the anxiety and want weighing him down, he needs to say this. "I don't want to, but I do. And it's the truth, I do hate you."

"Because I make you weak?" Jeremy asks, his expression is open and raw like a bloody wound. Another collection of hateful words, more peeling of the skin; only this time Kol was going for the whole hide.

"People held you over me when you were dead!" The words sound like a whine even as he says them. He bites his own tongue in frustration and struggles to make sense of all this. He had it all sorted when Jeremy was gone, when Jeremy was dead the constant pressure of was gone and he could think clearly, but he was back now, standing before him solid and just so there, Kol could hardly stand it. The hurt he left behind with his death and betrayal was laid out bare for him.

"Silas made me relive your death as you lived it five hundred and twenty-seven times. The Salvatore's burned you, your sister—don't get me started—"

"I know! I saw it all!" Jeremy shouts back and Kol watches the deliberate way his mouth moves to the words. I saw it all, he mouths. Kol is so caught up in thinking about what Jeremy did see that he barely catches what the Hunter says next. "I was there with you through all of it Kol. I was trying to reach you. I've been trying so hard."

"And after all you have seen?"

"I have," Jeremy nods.

"And?" Kol prompts. "When I held your sister's neck in my hands? When I drove fencing through her stomach? As I was trying to stab the life out of her: where you there? Did the dead man see who he fell in love with?"

Kol's mouth twists. Fell in love with, it required two people and mutual feelings. Kol had fallen in love with Jeremy. Quite frankly, they had stumbled together.

"I still love you." Jeremy says with deliverance and confidence his sister did not possess. "I knew what I was getting myself into when I knew you. I always knew who you were. I don't agree, but I still do love you."

Kol pushes down the initial rage and relief and lust. "You're crazy."

"I know," Jeremy says voice nasal and humorless. "And I hate it, it makes no sense."

Jeremy pauses, voice shallow and quiet and if Kol had not known before he knew now that this was the real Jeremy. The one who hesitated and pines after ghosts, and spoke gently of drug highs with Vickie and movies with Anna and great plans with Bonnie.

This was his Jeremy, the Tragic One.

He sucks in a lung full of air and holds onto it for a moment, calming his passion before letting it go.

"Kol," Jeremy makes a rigid step forward; body jerking slightly, his gaze meets Kol's with a sort of softness meant for fragile things. Jeremy's hands hesitate, his body hesitates, and everything inside him hesitates like a movie pausing every few seconds. So balefully annoying, but Jeremy was his favorite film—best actor, music and story he wanted to devour every part of him over and over. "Kol."

Kol watches Jeremy's hand make the journey through the cavernous space between them. Fingers outstretched as if straining to touch something just out of reach. He finally curls them back into a fist and it falls, swinging desolately at his side.

It feels like a test—and Jeremy just lost and he knew it too.

Kol feels a sudden outrage at Jeremy's lack of courage, so fervent it screams inside him like a monster trying to get out and lunges against the barring of Kol's teeth, straining between the cracks to get free and tear him to pieces.

Then there's the softer side of him swirling between his spongy insides like some black terrible disease virulent to his entire being. The tying of knots and fluttering of wings across his stomach, he wanted to carve out his unbeating, but nonetheless necessary, heart and give it to Jeremy like some morbid declaration of his love.

He watches Jeremy's expression bitingly and gives him something that he knew he would someday regret: a second chance.

"What do you want?" Kol asks. "I'm tired of asking."

Jeremy's gaze cuts back to him, teeth sinking into the flesh of his cheek, hard, and the words seem to fly out of his mouth like they were hovering off the edge of his tongue, but needed that extra little shove to go overboard to the point of no-return. "I want you." He chews the inside of his cheek. "I don't always want to feel like this, but I do. That's why I was trying to push you away, always trying, but . . . I want you, I have always wanted you."

Kol ignores the bursting feeling in his chest like liberation and allows himself to sink closer to Jeremy across the dark space of the forest.

"And?"

"I want you to want me, just as I want you. I want you—in all ways no one should say out loud," Jeremy pauses and fights a smirk. "In our bed that we both started in Denver. I want to draw and I want you to look over my shoulder and complain when I get something wrong. I want your teeth in my neck. I want to chain you to my hip and never let you leave my side." Jeremy's eyes close, and then snap back to his blushing at the tenderness of the words. His voice becomes rougher, "I want to hold you down and tell you that you're mine, because you are and I want everyone to know it. I want you in the worst way; I want you in every way. I want you to look at other people and get sick at the thought of them touching you."

"You're just as much mine as I am yours." Kol remarks with fingers itching to touch everywhere solid and fleshy on Jeremy's body that was still so far away.

"Works for me." Kol smirks.


next update is coming at you. this is the fucking chapter I could not write.

-queenchesh