Twenty-eight

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I turn in bed, positively incapable of sleeping. I'm not tired, I didn't really want to go to bed tonight. I sigh, smiling at the ceiling. Tonight was good. More than good, tonight was great. I haven't had this much fun in so long, I would have kept singing until morning. Deep down, I know I'm warming up to him. I know I shouldn't but it feels like being stuck here with only him changes the general conditions of life; he's the only person I have in this world and it's not like he can go astray or anything, so I guess we're allowed to be friends. Actually– I push the thought aside and ignore the fact that my body is warming up all of a sudden. Not him, Andy.

We've been sharing a lot in the past few weeks and I wonder whether it's just me or if maybe we could be allied when we go back to the real world. It wouldn't be anything like what Luke and I had but maybe, in the long run, we could end up with the same sort of agreement. Honesty about his coven in exchange for help if needs be. Not that he would need my help – I'm fairly certain he's more powerful than I am – but then, being on good terms would be an okay-enough compromise for Alice, I guess. The guarantee of keeping all Gemini witches in check could make up for all the lies and bad calls. Maybe. I'll have to talk to him about it, see whether he's interested.

I hear the wooden floor creak in the corridor and my eyes shoot to the bottom of my door. I guess we are going downstairs tonight. Not that I was staying awake on purpose or anything, I was just– just waiting to see if maybe he would need some company. I wait for a second, however, because there is no light filtering under my door; nothing. I sink back into my pillow and exhale, disappointed. But then I hear the floor creak again in the corridor and I know I'm not making it up. I frown, wondering why he wouldn't use the chandeliers, especially since he can light them on with half a thought.

Of course, he wouldn't knock on my door, he never does, but then is he really going downstairs or is the wood in this house too old to take the bloody winds outside? Maybe he doesn't want me to come; we've spent the whole night together – hell, we spend our entire days together – and while I really enjoyed this improvised concert, maybe he wants to be alone. I'm warming up to him but maybe he feels the exact opposite; for some reason my chest tightens at the thought.

I try not to dwell on my disappointment and only look back at my door when hearing the floor creak even closer to me. I frown. Is it me or do I sense a presence nearby? My stare is glued to the door and it shoots to the handle when it starts turning very slowly. My heartbeat quickens and I swallow, sitting up in my bed as the door starts opening, oh so slowly, and I ask, "Kai? Is that you?"

The door instantly stops moving and I can't make out anything. My mouth goes dry as I stare and stare and stare at the dark slot between the door and its frame, realizing the presence I sense has nothing to do with Kai; I would get a peek of his Light.

"Parker?" I say, getting up with a dagger in my hand – I never sleep without one – and cautiously stepping toward the door. The silence is deafening, creepy, and I grip my dagger more firmly as I let in my supernatural surplus, reminding myself that I am a strong, powerful witch hunter and that I can take on whatever is behind that door. And yet, an unspeakable anguish is tightening around my heart, and I feel as defenseless as a child facing her deepest fear of the night.

I inhale and suddenly kick the door closed, making sure to lock it well. I then grab a chair and wedge the door with it. I nod to myself, trying to calm down and catch my breath, but all I can hear is my blood beating in my temples. After some time, I go back to bed.

I spend the entire night watching my door.

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%

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"You look terrible," the witch offers me with an easy smile, "did you get any sleep?"

"We need to go to '94," I say as I walk up to him, snatching the breakfast plates from his hands and lying them on the table, "now."

"I'd like to have breakfast, first, if you don't mind," he answers, walking around me.

I grab his arm and he frowns at me.

"I said now."

"And I said after breakfast," he retorts just as dryly. It's almost incredible how quickly he'll shift from this new, light and kind side of himself that I've been getting used to, to this former coldness and distance he uses when getting defensive. He's like an emotional puppy who'll turn into a wolf when feeling cornered. "Why is it so urgent? We have lots of food and we did a laundry–"

"It's for–" I cut him off and stop. I take a look around, wondering whether the mysterious presence can hear us, "…girl stuff."

He eyes me from head to toe for half a second and nods, offering no further resistance. "Alright, let's go." Retrieving his plate full of food, he tries to contain his impatience when taking my hand, then he simply closes his eyes and begins chanting while I keep watching the kitchen intently. Then there is this flash of white light and we land in the 1994 version of the room. Simple as that.

"I'll leave you to it, then; the car is parked outside." Kai starts walking away but I pull him back so we're facing each other. I search his eyes for a moment, wondering which answer I actually expect from him.

When he arches an expectant brow, I finally ask, "Did you… come to my room last night?" He squints with an amused smirk. "I'm being serious."

"Were you expecting me to?"

"Did you or did you not come to my room?"

His face loses all amusement as he hears the tension in my voice and feels it in my grip.

"Why would you ask?"

"I think we're not alone in 1903," I whisper, "Someone opened my door."

He's frowning now and I relate to him last night's episode. My heartbeat quickens at the simple mention of it and I can't help but looking around, feeling watched.

"Huh," he finally says, pondering, and I cock my head.

"Huh?" I repeat, about to lose it, "There is someone, someone in our house; how could you not know it? I thought you had a sense of people getting in and people getting out!"

"I do, I just– No one else got in."

"Are you seriously, seriously saying that they were here before we even got there?" That's it; I'm losing it now. "We're moving in," I decide, "Right now. We're going back if you really want to grab something but we're staying here from now on."

"No, we're not," he says with agitation.

"Yes, we are," I snap, "Look, I indulged with your preference for 1903 because it was different for you but we can't– I can't. I've never been so afraid in my entire life and I never want to feel like that ever again."

"And you won't," he promises, taking my hands to calm me down, "Listen to me, you are this crazy-strong witch hunter that police people like me, and I am the all-powerful leader of my coven. The two of us together? Nothing can stop us; we're invincible, okay? So we're gonna go back and take a look around–"

I shake my head nervously and he rubs my arms for comfort, locking eyes as he says, "Look… I can't stay here. It's beyond me, but what I can do is channel the murderer side of me if anyone tries coming for us, okay?"

"We shouldn't go back," I whisper, closing my eyes, "This is typically how people start dying in horror movies."

"We're not in a horror movie, Andy. And we're not defenseless."

"But why–"

"Because when they come for us, it'll be in 1903. We need to be there if we ever want to make it out of these prisons."

I shake my head and bury my face in my hands, resting my forehead on his chest. I know I shouldn't feel like that; I'm a bloody Lightbringer, I can take on anything and anyone. But I didn't feel invincible at all last night. I felt ordinary. I don't know, maybe it's because I haven't had any opportunity to feel strong during the past few weeks or because with every day that goes by, it feels like my old life is disappearing. Maybe it's because I got used to being alone and safe in the Salvatore house and I didn't see it coming that someone else could be there. I honestly don't know why I felt the way I felt, but I truly don't want that to happen to me again.

"How about we spend the morning here and go back later?" Kai asks and I look up.

I can see the battle waging in his eyes but I also get the point; we can't afford to just stay here and simply not be there when the rescue party comes for us. They should be here any day now, we can't miss that. I exhale and nod, trying to cool down.

I guess I'm looking very scared right now, because the witch takes my hand, which he never does. I'm always the one reaching out for human touch since he told me about his childhood and he always looks away and squeezes, signaling that he appreciates the gesture even though he's not comfortable with it. This time when he squeezes my hand, it is to reassure me and I really am grateful for not being alone in this mess. He leads me outside and we take Damon's car; driving in '94 has never felt so good.

.

%

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"See? Nothing."

We come back up to the living room and I start breathing again. We searched the 1903 house up and down and didn't find anything. The sun has set now and we go to the kitchen for dinner. I can't figure out how he manages to relax and cook as if nothing were wrong while I can't help but eye the door from time to time, expecting a threatening figure to be standing there and watching us.

Same when we end up sitting before the fireplace after dinner: I can't help but listen intently for any sound that wouldn't be the fire or the winds outside. Kai is playing on his Gameboy color and I can't even read two lines of Jane Eyre and actually remember them. I end up closing the book and hugging my knees as I stare at the fire. I am so dreading the moment we'll say goodnight. I guess I'll have to move the wardrobe in front of the door, to make sure no one can open it while I sleep.

"Alright," he says, setting his Gameboy away, "let's do something fun."

"Like what?"

"Do you wanna serenade me?" He chuckles at my weary glance. "Okay, maybe not tonight." We silently watch the fire for a while, and he sighs. "For what it's worth, I don't think you should be afraid of whatever came to you last night. If anything, they should be afraid of you."

"Nice try."

"Come on, Andy. You and I both know you can take down anything that's able to breathe or walk."

"Except you," I remind him. He chuckles at that.

"Only because you were blinded by my charms."

I snort. "Yeah. Either that or you took me by surprise." His smile stretches.

"You're not used to that, are you?"

"I'm more used to the element of surprise being mine," I admit.

"I saw that."

We share a conniving smile, remembering the moment I blew my cover to retrieve the knife. Such a long time ago.

"I must say, I didn't expect you to pick up on my immunity to internal magic so quickly."

"Well, I just figured that if I couldn't get you flying across the room for some reason, I could surely fly something at you." I wince at the memory. "Sorry about that, by the way."

"It's fine. I was out for your head, so…" I trail off and shake my head, smiling at the fire. In what kind of a world do I get to sit down with an enemy – or rather former enemy – and discuss our past fights? "It actually reminded me that I'm not invincible, you know. I go around, pretending I know what I'm doing and that I'm fit to fight anything coming my way but the truth is, I'm not much more than a regular hunter with a couple supernatural abilities. Without the element of surprise, I'm not sure I'd be so successful at what I do." I shrug.

"Is that why no one knows about Lightbringers?" I watch him for a while, not comfortable to answer that. "Just saying, I did a bit of research after Liv tried to kill me on Bonnie's birthday. There was nothing to find about your kind; if I hadn't heard stories about you when I was a kid, I would never have known."

"We're usually pretty good at keeping the secret… secret."

"And yet, so many people know about you in Mystic Falls."

"I know," I complain, closing my eyes with a wince. "Alice is going to kill me someday."

"Well, if it comes to that, at least now you're buddies with a powerful coven leader that can offer you political asylum."

"Thanks, I'll remember that." We hold gaze for a while, smiling, until I look back at the fire.

"So what's the story? The big, secret Lightbringer community must have a founding myth, right?"

I cock my head, uneasy about all this. "I seriously don't know whether I should tell you that."

"Come on, who am I gonna tell? This tree we drove by in '94?"

I snort, trying to keep a smile away, and when I look up, my heartbeat picks up its pace. "You can't do that."

"Do what?" He asks, the personification of innocence.

"Those puppy eyes won't get you anywhere." He looks away, smiling.

"It's not puppy eyes, it's my eyes. And you like my eyes."

"Shut up," I snort, my face heating nonetheless. Such a good thing that I don't blush. "It's a boring story anyway."

"Try me." I shake my head before his persistence, focusing back on the chimney. "It's either that or High School Musical."

"You never give up, do you?"

His only response is a wide grin and I look away, suddenly needing to think of something else. Girl, you need to stop thinking with your pants.

"Fine, so..." I clear my throat, giving him a look as he settles more comfortably against the sofa. "The first Lightbringers were humans, witch hunters–"

"Shocker."

"Interrupt me one more time and I'll leave you hanging." The witch nods, frowning a bit so as to look serious. "We're not that old, actually. The first clan originates from Europe, back in the middle-ages. The Witch community was facing a rise of dark magic, so they gathered all of their leaders from everywhere and agreed that they needed people to watch over them. Not people with actual magic at their disposal, because they could succumb to the darkness too, but people whose sole purpose would be to eradicate users of dark magic. They found witch hunters who were willing to listen to what they had to say, like, 'not all witches are evil' and stuff. It took time to gather enough of them to form a clan, but when they did, they all signed a treaty that defined our jurisdiction – witches and only witches – and that engaged our word that we wouldn't seek to cause the good witch community any harm. In exchange, witches gave us the ability to see; we could now tell at first sight who was a witch and who was, say, a vampire."

He nods, listening intently, and his Light shimmers about peacefully. "But this sight, our abilities, we're not born with it; we train hard to earn it and we give it back when we retire. We're not a kind per se, we're a product of witches. They created us, gave us our Lights and a glimmer of power to fight magic, but not too much so we wouldn't overpower them. We were strong, fast, immune to internal magic," I give him a sideway glance and he smiles, "but we weren't stronger than witches by any means. We had to learn how to fight and how to use our brains to counter them, blending into the shadow to strike when they would expect it less. No mess, no scandal. Over time, it simply became our sacred duty to rid the earth of dark magic. We were to bring the light back into the world."

I smile to myself, remembering when my mom and dad used to tell us these stories; all those ancient battles against evil witches, some of which they probably invented just to entertain us. "Then, when the canon of darkness evolved, we evolved with it. Witches don't need to use dark magic to do bad things. It became more about watching them, assessing what they would use their powers for, and when they'd cross the line, it would be on us to take them out."

I exhale, thinking to myself that it's way more than anyone else knows.

"So you're basically here because witches needed their own police," he says.

"You can see it like that," I smile, "but it doesn't mean we answer to them. We're independent; impartial. Hence why they don't know about us and we're not supposed to be friends or anything."

"You're such an outlaw," he mocks.

"Tell me about it."

I get lost in thoughts for a while, going once more over my mistakes. I've been trying to find that defining moment when I went astray. Was it when I told Luke about us? When I blew my cover for the knife? Or when I let Kai live, when he was catatonic at Jo's, because Luke and Liv asked me to? I know I wouldn't have if I hadn't been their friend. I would have simply killed him; problem solved. I bring my knees to my chest and rest my cheek on them, watching my witch for a while. Such a different man from what he used to be.

I know my role is to watch and assess, get to know my targets and decide whether they're good or not, and my judgement is usually pretty good, but when I look at Kai Parker, although I can't deny I've been sketching an entirely new character lately, one that goes straight into the column for approval, there's still a part of me that wants to step away. Both a former instinct and a moral obligation that command me to stay clear and end him when I get the chance.

I know he can see it sometimes; I know he can tell, by the way I look at him, that I'm miles away from our conversations, and he usually leaves me to my thoughts and my ghosts until I come back to our perpetual present. In these moments, I can tell he assesses me as well, and I would give a lot to know exactly what is going on in this sharp mind of his; he's like a complex set of mechanics I'm trying to decipher and understand until there is no mystery left.

We share a long look and I realize I've been doing that again, I've been pondering over taking his life – which is not even an option anymore – or leaving him be. And there, I can see it: he won't say anything, but this softness and sadness I can make out, right before his eyes drop to the floor, I've come to know this as a silent apology. For everything he's done that hurt so many people, including him; for having no way to fix what he destroyed; for being alive and healthy while so many people died because of him. He'll never stop being sorry, and as long as he keeps the truth about him a secret, he'll never be able to say it aloud, not to the people who truly matter.

"Right now," he whispers, scanning my face, "what are you thinking about?"

I stare a second longer, not really caring that he can read my face, before looking away to the fire. I don't know what I think anymore. I don't know what's right and I don't know what's wrong. You're the bad guy on my list, but you're Liv and Luke's brother; you're the monster that brought hell to their home one night, and you're the boy who wanted to be loved; you're the man who killed my best friend, and you're the man who's grieving one more sibling that died because of him; you are supposed to be my enemy and you are unexpectedly becoming my friend. You're the villain and I'm the hero who kills villains. But you're not an evil witch anymore, and I'm not a good Lightbringer anymore; you've been trying to help the Mystic gang when called upon, and I've been building illegal friendships and alliances all over the place.

I mean, who's a villain and who's the good one? It feels like we've both entered this zone for the morally greys; who am I to tell that he should stay in prison or die? Who am I to deny him a second chance he so badly wants, while I know my future in the clan is going to be based on a second chance? Never thought that could happen.

"I was thinking that it's a relief you're leader now, because I don't have to worry about taking you out anymore. I'm not sure I could." I don't look back at him and he doesn't comment; we stare at the fire, trying to make sense of our existence, trying to hold on to the slightest silver of hope that we'll leave this purgatory someday.

When we head upstairs, I hold my breath and take the witch's hand and he squeezes. We need to stay in this world, I repeat in my mind over and over again, we need to be here when they come. We linger in front of my door and I chew on my lip. When did I become such a chicken?

"It'll be fine."

"Right," I nod, not buying it for a second.

"Hey, look," he says before pressing his hand flat on my door and muttering a chant.

"What did you do?"

"I cast a spell on your door; from now on, only you and I can open it."

"Seriously?" I ask, more than doubtful.

"Did you ever see me fail at magic?"

"Once," I say, tilting my head, "the night we met."

"Ah, but I was trying to get you with internal magic, to which you are immune. That doesn't count."

"Alright," I sigh, giving this door a skeptical look.

"I'm going to cast the exact same spell on my door," he adds, and he looks so confident right now that I'm ready to believe anything he says, "if anything happens, you come get me, okay?"

I nod and he gives me a reassuring smile, holding stare longer than necessary. "Alright, off to bed now. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight," I say.

"Goodnight."

.


Aster's quick word: Hi! How is it going so far? Funny story: I myself am kind of a chicken and I promise you, I was freaking out the entire time I was writing this scene with the door :scream: And writing it before going to sleep... SO not a good idea haha!

Also, special shout-out to NicCraft18 for being such an amazing reader! I love hearing from you, it always brings this big, silly smile to my face, I can't even. Thanks a lot for your kind words and support! Merci beaucoup :)

I hope you enjoy it so far, I'd love to know what you think :)

Belle journée,

- Aster