A.N.: Thank you for reviews; I'm going to break tradition and update for the second day in a row! Mostly because I have the time to write because I've got a week off work (hallelujah!) and I'm in the zone. So, chapter eleven, it's a lot shorter than normal, but it does a good job of bridging Zach's death and revealing Vicki's been turned. Things will start to really change from canon from here on out, because I…don't like killing off particular characters (here's a hint; Vicki isn't one of them!)

Drunken Binges, Funerals and Formals

11

Statuesque

He had never spent much time with Giuliette, so he didn't know whether this was normal behaviour or whether her grief was taking hold of her in a way that should make him worried, but in the days after she had found Zach in the basement with a broken neck, Giulia hadn't said a word. Not one, to anyone, though plenty of people had come by the Boarding House to offer their sympathies and commiserate that Mystic Falls had lost one of its greatest Founding Sons. It was universally thought that, despite being somewhat of a recluse, Zachary Salvatore had been a great man, always kind, never one to raise his voice or make others feel small or insignificant. He'd been generous, intelligent and forgiving.

The Boarding House saw more traffic the day after Sheriff Forbes had finished conducting her initial sweep of the crime-scene than it had in decades: everyone wanted to come and pay their respects to the orphaned daughter Zach's murderer had left behind. The only problem was, that murderer walked among them, feigning sorrow and grief as he refreshed drinks and shot Stefan glowers for having the audacity to hide his lapis ring…

It had been the greatest insult, after being party to her father's murder, that Stefan and Damon had strong-armed Giulia into granting them entry into the Boarding House. A silent nod, her expression doll-like, frozen and pale, and they could enter freely, having the run of the place as they always had…and had always taken advantage of.

Stefan only knew what he did because he had eavesdropped on their conversation when Sheriff Forbes had showed up at the Boarding House, lights flashing, sirens wailing… Where Zach had been found, so close to the vervain locked in the basement and to one of the many safes hidden in the house, had made it easier for Sheriff Forbes to believe, as Giulia had suggested, that a vampire could have managed to enter the house, and killed Zach over the vervain… Her father was a trained soldier and it wasn't easy to get the drop on him. Giulia had destroyed one of the vervain plants, making it look like a struggle had ensued, to further convince Sheriff Forbes of Giulia's suspicion.

What stunned Stefan, as much as shamed him, was that, despite everything, Zach's murder, the grief and hate she must be feeling toward him for putting into motion a series of events that led to her dad's murder, her shock over Damon's betrayal…Giulia still protected them. Despite everything, every word she had said to Sheriff Forbes had been to veer suspicion away from Damon, who had gone on a killing binge in the cemetery, and from Stefan… Just one word from Elena and he knew there'd be nothing Giulia could do to protect them.

As she had left the house yesterday, Stefan had overheard Sheriff Forbes' phone-conversation with Mayor Lockwood about Zach—she was worried that the vampire in town knew exactly which of the Council members grew their vervain supply. And her relief both that the vervain plants were still going strong, and that Giulia had been out on a date that night…

It didn't change the fact Zach had died because of what Stefan had done to Damon. If Giulia had railed at him, hit him, tried to kill him, use that vervain against him, Stefan wouldn't have minded—he deserved it; he had created her an orphan. But she didn't; she didn't shout, didn't glower… Her pale, stunning face, so uncannily like Damon, was like a marble statue, flawless and beautiful, but cold, expressionless. She hadn't said a word in days, and wouldn't bring her pale eyes off the floor. She also wouldn't eat or drink, and drifted around with unseeing eyes.

She didn't respond when Caroline tried to talk to her, comfort her; surprisingly, Damon hadn't tried to approach her. Perhaps it was a glimmer of contrition for what he'd done, but he respected Giulia's palpable desire for space and silence. And as for Stefan? He wouldn't dare approach her. There wasn't anything he could say to ease her grief, or change the way things were. Her father was dead, taken from her forever, and he was to blame.

Giulia's one flaw was her tendency to internalise.

If she was full of rage, or grief, confused and betrayed…Stefan was used to everyone he knew making it fully obvious how they were feeling. Vampires had a way to show you what was going on inside their heads even when they pretended they had shut off their emotions. But Giulia—she was a marble statue; stunning, but unyielding… Pygmalion had learned that one could not love or converse with a statue of ivory; similarly, nobody, not even Caroline, could get Giulia to respond.

She didn't even cry.

Throughout the day, as the entire community stopped by to drop off casseroles and fruit cobblers to tide Giulia over for months to come, Caroline sat with Giulia on the couch in the reception-room, just holding her hand, trying to ply her with food, or scotch, biting her lip whenever she received no response whatsoever. Caroline's concern was palpable—and it endeared her to Stefan, seeing the high-maintenance blonde girl trying to take care of Giulia, a girl who had Independent stamped on her ass.

The only time Stefan saw Giulia give a response to anything was when Elena turned up with her little brother, and their aunt Jenna, who had made a lasagne.

Giulia visibly recoiled from Elena, giving her a look that would have blistered paint from a barn-door, a look so full of loathing and spite that Stefan was surprised Elena didn't wilt. She had looked thoroughly wounded as Giulia had stalked away from her, but that had only earned her a condescending sneer from Giulia.

Nothing had made Giulia respond to her father's death, nothing except Elena coming in to offer her sympathy, as a fellow recent-orphan.

Caroline, her sun-warmed skin scented with a vervain-laced perfume, sighed heavily as Giulia disappeared upstairs.

"She should be helping me plan the Homecoming Dance, not picking out flowers and songs for her dad's funeral," she said, almost stamping her foot in her frustration, she was so upset. Her eyes were moist as she sipped a soda, subdued for the first time since Stefan had met her. Her grief for Giulia was visible, her concern and love for her best-friend tangible, and Stefan could say honestly that this was the first time he had ever liked Caroline Forbes.

"I know," Stefan said softly, giving an appropriately-sad smile to someone he'd never met, who shook his hand and offered their sympathies for his uncle's untimely death.

"What happened?" Caroline muttered, sounding so heartsick, Stefan was starting to see how she and Giulia had been best-friends so long. Beneath the superficial stuff, the climb for popularity, the hyper-achieving Barbie who somehow never kept the spotlight, there was a real human-being with a genuine connection with her best-friend, who wanted to do anything to take care of Giulia but…didn't know how. Stefan didn't, either; he'd never spent enough time around Giulia to know how to handle her, where she really was right now, inside her head.

"I don't know," he sighed quietly, glancing across the room at Elena, where she stood with her family, pouting at Giulia's reaction to her arrival. Caroline was right—Giulia should have been planning parties, not her father's funeral. Zach had organised almost everything, in an obscure bid to make sure his little girl didn't have to lift a finger during the time she'd most need him, and couldn't have him. Ave Maria was to be played, and arrangements of ivory and gold—magnolias, tuberoses, peonies and gladioli, her mother's favourite flowers—were to be placed on the coffin and her mother's grave. The service was to be held outside, and the catering at the reception after was provided by Zach's favourite Italian restaurant in town—their crab manicotti was divine, as was their tiramisu.

Everybody was to get a full meal out of coming to Zach's funeral—Stefan was actually a little surprised by the turnout, but then, Zach was a Founding Son, and had also served in the Marines; he got a gun-salute and his coffin was draped with the Stars and Stripes.

Caroline had stayed overnight, before the funeral, and had helped get Giulia ready; Stefan wouldn't have known how to get her to cooperate, she seemed to be existing merely as a zombie, eyes downcast, dry, and silent. But Caroline sure knew how to get Giulia to put her best foot forward when it came to fashion, and Giulia had never looked more striking than in her tailored black dress, with its tiny cap-sleeves, the deep V neckline, the flowing skirt that flipped flirtatiously at her mid-thigh; Caroline had helped her picked out a plain pair of pointy-toed black stilettos, and a gorgeous black hat with an intricately-woven, floppy brim; she looked stunning. She also wore one of her mother's fine gold lariat necklaces, ended with two gold tassels, wrapped around her left wrist, the two gold tassels dangling from it, catching the light. And with the shadows and highlights playing across her face as the breeze drifted through the tree canopy overhead, her resemblance to Damon was eerie, the high, defined cheekbones, the arch of her dark, neatly-groomed eyebrows, the intense hue of her vibrant grey eyes…

Hers were the only dry eyes in the congregation. Caroline sat curled up to her, tears streaking down her cheeks, but Giulia sat up straight, eyes downcast, the ring on her left middle-finger shining in the sunlight. The delicate pearl-solitaire on a plain, very thin gold band had belonged to Giulia's mother. She never took that ring off.

"Damon, you wished to say a few words," the minister said, and Damon glanced away from Giulia, whom he'd been watching concernedly all morning, and nodded. He strode purposely up to the dais and sighed heavily, glancing first at Giulia before giving the congregation a wan smile.

"A lot of you probably won't remember me, or my little brother Stefan. Zach never made a big deal of it whenever we dropped in for visits. Most of the time we'd be camping out in the woods, or learning how to fish and hunt…he taught us to shoot in the old tree-house his dad built. Fort Salvatore." Damon chuckled softly, and only Stefan knew the irony; Damon had built that tree-house, and it had been Damon who would come back to Mystic Falls and take Zach, and then Giulia, out on camping-trips, teaching them to hunt, to fish, tossing them in the lake so they'd improve their swimming skills, playing with water-pistols at Fort Salvatore…and then helping to improve Giulia's arms skills after Zach had started giving her sniper-training.

He and Giulia used to practically live out in Fort Salvatore during the summers, living in sleeping-bags, cooking over an open fire, bathing in the lake, falling asleep to Damon's ghost-stories and the sound of crickets, watching the heat-lightning.

"Truth is, and, it's no secret, but Zach always appreciated his privacy. He'd probably be really uncomfortable right now, being the centre of attention," he said, giving a slight smile, and several people in the congregation gave small chuckles. "I spent a lot more time with Uncle Zach than my little-brother, more even than his own daughter. Our parents were always travelling, they were military—but Zach had the Boarding House. It was the one constant in my life, when everything else was chaos. Any time I came back to Mystic Falls, it felt like coming home. Zach was always a great influence on me; he was grounded, dedicated and always kind. And I don't think anything proves just how great of a man he was more than his daughter Giulia. I had the honour of watching her grow up, and every day I'm amazed what an incredible job Zach managed to do, raising her. All Zach ever wanted was to honour Gianna's memory by raising their daughter right. And I'm sure everyone who remembers Gianna will agree, she would not be disappointed."

For the first time in days, something flickered across Giulia's face. Stefan saw it for a millisecond, but he'd seen it. The mention of her mother had gotten through to her.

"So, Zach…don't worry; we'll make sure your little girl's safe," Damon promised solemnly, his vivid eyes on the flag-covered coffin before him. He gave a sort of nod and left the podium, sighing as he sat down. Stefan cast Giulia a glance, as the minister said, "And now, Zach's nephew Stefan would like to say a few words."

That got a response. If the look Giulia had given Elena the other day when she'd come to the house with Jenna and Jeremy had been hostile, blistering and nuclear in its intensity, Stefan felt Giulia's eyes on him like a blow to the nose. The set of her pretty lips, rigid and pale, the fury in her icy grey eyes, made Stefan's stomach churn. He walked up to the podium where the minister had done his reading, taking a crumpled note-card out of his pocket.

He'd barely begun speaking when Giulia stood up. She didn't address him, or make any sound whatsoever; she just stood, and walked away, toward the woods. She could get home that way, Stefan knew. She knew the lay of the land as well as he did. A murmur swept through the congregation as Giulia left; Caroline shot him and Damon a concerned look that begged the question, did she follow? Damon gave a slight wince and shake of the head, gesturing to just stay put, and Stefan continued.

Damon would know better than anyone what Giulia needed right now; he had raised that girl. From the moment Gianna had died, Damon had been there. So he knew better than anyone that Giulia needed space—she hadn't had a moment to herself in days. The vultures had been circling, wanting all the juicy details of the home-invasion, and then the community had turned up to give casseroles and commiserate; Giulia had had to meet with the funeral directors, her father's attorney, the caterers, florists, the printer who had put together the invitations and programmes. And Caroline hadn't left her side for a second of it. She wouldn't let her best-friend go through all of this alone.

But she was alone now, Stefan realised. Come and go as they might because this was their home, neither Stefan nor Damon had ever lived in Mystic Falls permanently during Giulia's lifetime—nor even Zach's, or Noah's, or Joseph's. There was nothing natural about their lives as vampires, and no part of that lifestyle was conducive to moving in with their orphaned 'cousin'…while Giulia grew up and got married, had babies of her own, Stefan would always be the brooding seventeen-year-old, Damon, the irreverent twenty-something who strutted around in leather pants and enticed entire sorority-houses to come party with him.

Or seventeen-year-old high-school drug-addicts.

Everyone left the Italian-feast in a better mood than they had been in all day; good food had that effect on people, and most of the guests had spent the afternoon reminiscing about Zach. For a recluse, he had a lot of friends, probably more than he'd realised. The congregation had pushed three-hundred, and nobody had a bad word to say about him; Zach would always be remembered as the kind, very generous man who had raised a hell of a daughter, all by himself, despite the heartbreak that had always seemed palpable.

And Giulia, who was recognised by most as the best part of Zach, took a dish of crab manicotti and a tumbler of scotch and sat on the patio outside eating quietly while Caroline fussed and fluttered anxiously around her; Giulia had appeared, her heels and stockings removed, hair tousled, hat in hand, having run from the cemetery.

When the last of the stragglers had left, the limoncello drained, the tiramisu covered and refrigerated, the last of the cranberry and pistachio biscotti put in a sealed tin, Giulia had changed out of her black clothing, into a pair of dark denims and a soft black cashmere sweater sewn with tiny purplish-black faux pearls like confetti from the shoulders and neckline. She still wore her mother's lariat necklace as a bracelet, and her makeup was still pristine and very pretty. She blanked Stefan and strode outside, heading for the garage.

Sheriff Forbes had remained behind, talking quietly to Damon; "I know Giulia mentioned you were keen to get involved in the Council. With Zach's death, and the bodies we found in the cemetery the other night, we're all on high-alert. It'd be great to have new eyes look at the situation."

"Of course, anything I can do to help," Damon said, and Stefan could almost believe he was being sincere. "I just want to see whatever devil did this to Zach pay."

"Well, if we can track them, we can start formulating a better plan how to kill them," Sheriff Forbes sighed. "I just…wish we'd managed to stake this monster before they'd made an orphan out of Giulia. That's the worst part about this…I've known that girl her entire life… There was never a kid more dedicated to her dad than Giulia…this is going to break her."

"I think Giulia's stronger than a lot of people realise," Damon said quietly. "Kids are resilient… I mean, I know from experience, you can never get over the loss of your loved ones…over time, Giulia will come to realise there are so many extraordinary opportunities her life has to offer her, and the people she meets will help soften the blow."

"I hope so," Sheriff Forbes smiled sadly.

"Well, let me know what I can do to help the Council," Damon said, shaking the sheriff's hand.

"I will—and let me know if there's anything Caroline and I can do, for Giulia, and you and your brother," Sheriff Forbes said, and Stefan raised his eyebrows at her thoughtfulness. As far as anyone else was concerned, it wasn't just Giulia who had lost Zach; his already-orphaned nephews had lost their last remaining adult relative. The responsibilities as head of the Salvatore family now fell to Damon.

"Thank you. I appreciate that, Liz," Damon smiled sadly. "And, thank Caroline for me, she's taken such great care of Giulia the last few days. I don't know who else would have been able to get her through this."

"Well, those two have always been close, like sisters—well, I've always wished I had the kind of relationship with my sisters that Caroline and Giulia have," Sheriff Forbes smiled sadly. "She's welcome at our house any time, I know Giulia said you travel a lot."

"I think I might stay around town for a little while, at least while Giulia adjusts," Damon said. "God knows Giulia doesn't need someone to take care of her, she's always been independent, but I can't just abandon her."

"I'll give you a call about the next Council meeting."

"And I'll have Giulia continue cultivating the vervain," Damon said. "I'm not much of a green-thumb, so…"

"Whatever you have to give now, would really be appreciated," Sheriff Forbes said honestly.

"Of course," Damon nodded, and he showed Sheriff Forbes out of the house. Groaning, he closed the door and slumped against it… "They're gone."

"We could've avoided all of this if you had just, I don't know, not killed Zach," Stefan remarked, and Damon shot him a look.

"No, little-brother, all of this and more could have been avoided if you'd not imprisoned me to desiccate and mummify," Damon said, striding languidly from the door. He pouted coyly. "It hurt my feelings."

"You don't have feelings, Damon; you've turned off your humanity," Stefan said idly, playing with his spoon as he glanced at the little bowl of tiramisu he was nursing. He had to admit, it was delicious.

"Whatever you say, Stefan," Damon said idly. Stefan set his bowl down and stood, brushing his palms on the thighs of his jeans.

"I'd better go, I promised Elena we'd continue our talk," he said quietly.

"If that's what they're calling it these days," Damon shrugged. Stefan gave him a look, and he departed. Damon poured himself a scotch, yawning, and downed the entire glass, pouring himself a second. There were things he had to mull over, plans and decisions and actions he had taken to make things work, all of which he needed to account for and anticipate. The girl had been opportunistic, but he could make it work in his favour, if the super-secret Council was dead-set on finding the vampire responsible for Zach's death and the draining and incineration of three drug-users in the cemetery last night. Giulia sure had kept him on tenterhooks, making him wait out the sunlight for two days before admitting him back into the house.

The front-door burst open, and Giulia appeared, looking vengeful. Suddenly she looked twice as tall, stalking toward him with her loose hair flying.

"What is she doing in my garage?" she demanded, glowering at Damon. Damon winced and glanced around guiltily.

"So…would now be a bad time to mention I killed Vicki Donovan?"

A.N.: Please do me the honour of reviewing! BTW, has anyone else noticed that the house used in The Originals for their home is the same house they used in TVD in flashbacks of Damon and Stefan's home? It's exactly the same, down to the grassy circle in the middle of the driveway.