Wow. It has been waayyy to long since I've updated and I apologize for that, but you know life gets in the way. Anyways, now that school is ending, I can promise the next update will be MUCH sooner! I am damn well determined to finish this story! This chap. took me a while b/c I just kept re-rewriting and I'm still not entirely pleased with how it turned out, but I couldn't post pone it any longer. After the end of this chap. a lot of unpretty shit is going to hit the fan and I'll just say it's all downhill from here folks. Anyways I can't believe this is chap. 50? HOW ON EARTH DID THAT HAPPEN? This story has grown massive!
Neverthless, I hope you enjoy this one. And if any of you out there watch the show TVD, I did write a little oneshot for it, so check it out : )


Isobel POV

I was weak-a coward, plain and simple. I had allowed the fear to creep inside me for a moment. I had allowed myself to fall apart. And now, as I groped the air for the former pieces of myself, I found them slipping away through my fingertips. I was stuck watching myself slowly fade and crumble before my own eyes. My whole world was eroding around me and I could do nothing but gaze out from the sidelines.

My throat was dry, constricting with each shaky gasp of air I took. A light sheen of sweat coated my forehead as the wheels in my head continued to tumble and chafe against one another-creaking with all the doubts, sorrows and horrors that had accumulated within me through the years. I was drowning. Killing myself with this seemingly ongoing form of self-torture.

I've been making myself physically ill with worry. My stomach held down little. It was the worst in the initial breakings of the day, when the dread was reawakened. The only thing that kept me above surface-still able to breathe in that lifesaving speck of air-was Damon and Stefan and their newly revived bond. It made me think that maybe-just maybe-I had a purpose in coming back here. That I hadn't been entirely selfish. But I knew the Salvatore's too well and in time, whether with my presence or not, they would've mended their relationship eventually. Just as Damon and I have this force that draws us together, no matter how long the distance, Stefan and Damon will always come together in the end as well. They're brothers after all.

Yet, regardless of everything…I kept living in this dream. I know it was wrong to keep residing in this happily-ever after delusion…but I couldn't let go. I wanted to stay. If I were stronger or braver I would have left Fells Church a long time ago. But I wasn't any of these things. I had only tricked myself into believing that I was. That what I was doing here actually meant something, made a real difference in their lives.

I struggled to hide all of this from Damon and Stefan. It was a challenge, to pretend like everything was ok. Normal. But I didn't want them to be troubled over me and my baggage anymore. They deserved more than what I had to give them.

Over the past week, I had noticed the change between the two of them. And it was truly a touching thing to watch. They no longer tore into each other whenever they were in the same room together. The snide comments lost their viciousness, becoming instead almost teasingly, brotherly. It was a complete 180. Whatever had happened over the course of such a short time, I was grateful for it. It relived my guilty burden that weighed down on my heart, by a fraction. But only a fraction.

Everything was relatively good now. There was virtually no tension between Stefan and I anymore. We were on friendly terms, just as him and Damon were. But it only made it harder. The idea of leaving all of this. This family I had practically succeeded in putting back together. I was scared. Scared to leave them. Scared to face reality. So instead I gave in to the coward in me and put on a lighthearted mask, deciding to pretend like everything was fine, because it was easier for everyone that way.

Damon POV

I flung open the window, allowing a gust of crisp air to gush through the opening, relieving the room of some of the stuffiness that had been trapped. Stefan was sitting at the desk, hunched over a mound of papers, his eyes darting over the pages of numbers and arbitrary information I had collected, absorbing every detail.

I crossed my arms, strolling over to him. "You're not going to find anything in them." I drawled smugly. "I've went over them a dozen times and found nothing that seemed even remotely helpful."

He picked his eyes up off the desk, for the first time in hours, meeting my gaze coolly. "Yeah, well you become frantic when you're too involved Damon, and you tend to miss things." he commented smoothly. "Plus I'm better at research then you."

I snorted, rolling my eyes, although I knew he was right. Stefan has always been able to keep a fairly level head, regardless of the situation. For the most part, I usually could too, but this was Isobel that was involved. And when it came to her, I had an extremely difficult time separating myself from my emotions. They seemed to be entwined with her. And as time drew on, my worries for Isobel settled deeper into the marrow of my bone, clouding any voice of reason I had held prior.

My fingertips skimmed mindlessly along the smooth wood of the desk, my flesh absorbing the dips and dents that nicked the surface. "So what ever happened to that Fiona chick?" I mused, quirking an eyebrow.

Stefan glared at me, clearly not in the mood for chitchat. He picked up a new bundle of papers, focusing his concentration on the letters and figures scattered on its sheets.

"Why are you even asking? You don't care." he scoffed. "You didn't like her."

"True." I relented. "But Isobel liked her." I admitted causally, knowing that that little fact would stir some sort of reaction out of him.

Even though Isobel has made it a point numerous times that she would never 'switch Salvatore's' again, Stefan still yearned for her approval and still held this unrealistic hope that one day they would rekindle their relationship. I'm not even sure that my brother was fully conscious of these notions. But I saw it. It was hard not to.

Either way it was utterly pathetic, but it sure was entertaining as hell. I enjoyed this role reversal. For once, I wasn't the one that was pining over someone that belonged to another. I knew it was cruel to wish to inflict that kind of slow burning anguish on someone, let alone my brother, but I couldn't hold any sympathy for him when regarding this. After all, no one had held any sympathy for me.

"She did?" he queried tentatively.

"Yup." I yawned, growing bored with the conversation already. "Told me herself."

"Was that before or after you compelled her?" Stefan hedged, his tone instantly hardening as he sliced his eyes in my direction.

When was he going to get over that? He was still pissed at me for compelling Isobel and there wasn't a day since, that he let me forget it. My brother, ever the free will advocate.

"Oh ha ha." I spat sarcastically. "You made a funny Stef. And for your information-since you are just so nosy today-it was after."

"I bet it was." he mumbled, his attention falling back to the desk.

"So back to my first question, what happened to surfer barbie?"

"She left." he deadpanned.

"Why?" I pressed. "Got sick of your constant bruiting already?" I snickered.

"She had other things to attend to." he sighed, his brow crinkled, his thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So in other words, she had another guy to fuck?" I stated. "Her loss."

"No." he snapped. "She had some vendetta to…" he tapered off, his eyes widening as his pupils danced along the pages at a quickening speed.

"What is it?" I blurted out, trying to restrain my mounting curiosity.

A slight smile flitted across his lips, "Come and look at this."

I sauntered over to him, bending over his shoulder, straining to read the paper. He held it closer towards me, drawing an invisible line underneath a section of writing with his pointer finger.

"I have been looking through a bunch of town records. What happened after Angelina's death, Landro, and her father's too." he began, "And while searching through them, I found some interesting business transactions." he explained, an excited glimmer sparkling in his eye. "You know how famous Mr. Gallo was for documenting every little detail of merchandise he had sold or acquired, etcetera, right?"

I frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. "Yeah, he was a bit OCD about it if you ask me. Writing down who, when, price, and so on." I agreed. "But so what, the guy liked writing down numbers. What the hell does that have to do with anything?" I groused, wanting him to clarify further.

"Well, there was an extremely large sum of money deposited to him a month or so after we were turned. But it doesn't say what it was or exactly who to. Only the price, year, and the letter C."

"That's weird."

"Right?" he conceded. "And I've looked through his later records and he made no other deals with this C guy. He typically only dealt with regulars, which were all people we knew back then. And I certainly don't remember anyone who was wealthy enough to spend this amount of money."

"How is this connected to Angelina though?"

"That I don't really know for sure." he huffed dejectedly. "But from what I gather, this incident happened around the same time all of this shit started to go down." he rattled on. "I know it's not much to go on, it's pretty much a shot in the dark, but it's all we got."

My eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement. "Hey, you're right, it's better than nothing. I didn't even have a name." I shrugged. "Now at least we have a letter. This could be the guy though, right?" I prodded impatiently.

"I don't want to get your hopes up, Damon. All of this could end up meaning nothing." Stefan relayed, his face marring with my same disappointment.

I know he wants this to be the guy too. After I had told him everything that had happened, all the signs, the breakdowns, and the fear, Stefan was as anxious as I. He had killed her, her family, her happiness, and still continued to torment her. He needed to be dead. Only then would Isobel ever be able to be at peace.

"I know." I divulged hastily. "I just need a chance. Is there any chance, at all, that this is him?"

"Of course there is a possibility that this is the guy." he sighed, rubbing the lids of his tired eyes.

"Then is there any way to find out more?" I persisted.

"The only thing I can think of is to go back to Pisa. Go into town and see if you can dig anything up." Stefan surmised.

"Ok. Let's do it." I declared, decisively.

"What about Isobel?"

"She'll come too." I said. "She doesn't have to know about this."

"Damon, when you disappear at random times, don't you think she's going to notice when you're not there?"

"No, because you're coming too." I concluded simply. Bewilderment flashed across his features. "What? Did you really think you were gonna stay here while I went to Pisa?"

"I just thought that…that…" he stammered, "I'm just surprised, that's all."

"Well get over it." I quipped. "You are going to keep her occupied when I'm gone. I keep her occupied when you're gone." I affirmed. "Think of it as babysitting."

"And you don't think she'll catch on?" he questioned skeptically.

"She won't give it a second thought." I smirked deviously. "She'll be too ecstatic that we're actually getting along to question anything." I drawled. "She wouldn't risk breaking the peace."

Stefan nodded hesitantly.

My ears pricked up on the sound of a car door slamming. "Isobel's back." I noted. "We'll talk about the details later." I relinquished quickly. "Go downstairs, talk to her, help her with her bags. Do whatever it is you two girls usually do. Let me hide the stuff here. I still have some papers in my room to clean up too." I ordered.

He sprung up, ambling away. He paused by the door, turning slightly towards me as I messily clumped random papers together.

"If this really is the guy…I want to help you kill him." he confessed flatly.

A smirk slithered it's way across my lips, "I wouldn't dream of killing the bastard without you."

He mirrored my smile before he twisted away and headed downstairs to meet up with Isobel in the living room.

The jealousy I felt towards my brother had waned. Sure I was jealous that Isobel loves him and that he loves her…but it didn't really bother me anymore. I don't know when exactly it stopped mattering as much, but it did.

Although I would never admit it out loud to any living soul, I was glad to have my brother back. I no longer saw him as an enemy, per se, but more as an ally.


I listened intently as I heard her gently tread up the steps. She was alone. I shoved the final bundle of papers that were in my room, into a draw, glancing up to find her leaning against the doorframe, a curious smirk dancing along her full lips.

She looked tired. A shade of dark purple discolored the skin beneath her eyes.

I crossed my arms over my chest, stalking towards her. "Done talking with Stefan already?"

She took a step closer to me, tipping her head up to look at me. "Yes I am." she sung, reaching out and taking my hand, threading our fingers together. "He had other things to do."

She tugged me over to the bed, were she crawled into the center, folding her legs Indian style. I laid my head in her lap, gazing up at her, pulling our connected hands on top of my chest. I caressed the smooth flesh on the top of her hand with my thumb, patiently waiting for her to speak, knowing that something was eating away at her.

"You know Fiona left?" she commented after a long pause.

Of course my brother would tell her and probably willingly too.

"Yeah. Stefan told me." I replied evenly, trying to read the concern that creased the subtle lines in her face.

"I'm worried about him…he was starting to get better with her around." she rambled to herself.

I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, "He'll be fine. I'm sure he'll keep himself occupied."

"I just want him to be happy." she huffed.

"You can't make everyone happy, Isobel." I sighed.

"I just want you two to be happy." she corrected.

I smiled, reaching up to touch her cheek. The corners of her mouth tugged up into a grin, she leaned down, pressing her lips tenderly against mine before pulling away, a smirk lighting her features. She slid out from under me, my head falling back into the soft comforter.

Where the hell was she going?

She skidded happily over to the radio, where she turned it up, flicking it onto some station that had a fast rhythmic beat.

She hopped onto the bed, only to begin bouncing up and down like a toddler that was given way too much sugar. The mattress sprung underneath the soles of her feet. Her hair whipped around her. She certainly was a delectable sight.

I let out a deep chuckle. She was acting ridiculous.

She prodded my side with her foot, nudging me slightly as she continued her escapade.

"Come on Damon." she whined.

I shook my head, opting to take a moment to simply watch her. She rarely acted like this. Free and teeming with a childlike innocence. I've noticed she only took brief moments to release her stress and forget the world. I assume today, she was seizing the opportunity. And soon, I quickly found myself dissolving away with her and forgetting the world too. For a moment, she was the same girl I had met when I was eight. She was Angelina. I had not seen that spark ignite in her in far too long. I had missed this girl. The remnants of that past person would only flash in her orbs for a short, fleeting moment. So I decided to go with it. Forgetting. Fading back into a simpler time, a time when the torments of the world had not caused us to encase ourselves in a protective, hardened layer of scar tissue.

"It's not as stupid as it looks." she chirped. "Loosen up."

I ignored her taunting, crossing my arms above my head.

"Jump Damie." she giggled.

"Don't call me that." I growled.

"Aw, come on. You used to let me call you that." she teased, an impish grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"When we were children." I dismissed.

She laughed melodically, crouching down, her delicate fingers wrapping around my arm, trying to tug me up. Reluctantly, I let her.

Alongside her I began to jump. Moving my body in accord to the beat of the music. She lied. It wasn't fun. I felt like a jackass. But as I twirled her in my arms, with her giggling and squeaking happily, somehow it made up for it. I watched her with a subdued cautiousness. Lately, she hasn't been in the best of health. I was pleased to find though, that her complexion-previously paled-had a healthier flush to it.

As the song ended, she stumbled into me, breathless. I stared at her, a large grin spreading across my lips. However, it all came crashing down when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a certain figure standing in the doorway. Stefan.

I immediately stopped jumping, feeling slightly humiliated.

Stefan glanced at Isobel, who flashed him an amused smile. Stefan began to laugh hysterically and Isobel just grinned in an abnormally cheery manner, before she collapsed down onto the bed. I heavily plopped down next to her.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Damon Salvatore acted like a twelve year old girl." Stefan chuckled.

"Oh shut up." I grumbled. "Let's face it, this isn't the worst thing you've caught me doing."

Isobel leaped off the bed, her bare feet smacking against the wood, strutting over to Stefan. "I told you he'd do it. Now pay up." she smirked, holding out the palm of her hand.

What the fuck?

"Wow. I gotta tell you, I had my doubts." he chortled, digging his hand into his pocket, fishing out his wallet. "But money well spent." he smirked, placing a hundred dollar bill in her palm.

"It's been a pleasure proving you wrong." she drawled sweetly, shoving the money into her bra.

"Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?" I fumed.

Isobel sauntered back over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, moving in so close I could feel her breath tickling my ear. "I made a bet with Stefan that I could get a grown man to jump up and down on the bed like he was at the best slumber party of his life." she whispered.

"Jerk." I huffed flatly.

"Oh grow up." she teased, sticking out her tongue.

"Yeah I'm the one who needs to grow up." I snorted, sarcastically. "Cause what you did was so mature."

Isobel blatantly rolled her eyes at me, swiveling back to Stefan. "Well if you ever want to test my powers of manipulation again, you know where to find me."

"Next bet I'll win." he warned.

I narrowed my eyes at Stefan, "There will be no more bets." I concluded. "She doesn't need any more encouragement."

"You're just mad because you cave way too easily into that doe eyed look she gives." Stefan mocked.

"And you're not?" I sneered. "Don't make me laugh. You and I both know that if roles were reversed, you would've done the same exact thing."

Stefan flushed slightly, knowing it was true. "Well, roles aren't reversed and the joke is still on you." Stefan teased.

"Well the jokes gonna be on you, if you don't get your ass out of my room in ten seconds." I growled.

Stefan laughed, shooting Isobel a wink, before twisting away and leaving.

Smart choice.

Isobel grinned contentedly and I pounced on top of her, tackling her playfully to the bed, fully prepared to make her pay. She giggled uncontrollably, clapping her hand over her mouth in an effort to stifle her laughter. My brows pulled together in meek confusion.

"What's so funny?" I queried, unable to suppress the smile that had found it's way on my face. Her lyrical laughter was contagious.

She pushed me back, hovering above me. She dipped her lips close to the whorl of my ear. "Stefan got the whole thing on videotape."

I froze.

That, I definitely had not expected.

I quickly recovered from the shock, shoving Isobel's petite body off of me, causing her to spastically land on the floor.

"He's coming!" she screeched.

I sprinted out of my room, heading towards my insolent little brother.

Isobel POV

I wanted to have a normal moment. And if achieving normality meant jumping on the bed with Damon and making a bet with Stefan, then I'd do it. So I let myself be consumed by the moment and become lost in this carefree-lively being, that once-upon-a-time, had been myself.

My hands slid underneath me, and I lifted myself off the wooden floor. I hastily jogged out of Damon's room, rounding the corner and descending the stairs. I could hear the quarrelling echoes of the boys from the top of the steps.

"What the hell Stefan?" Damon seethed, from afar.

I cautiously entered the living room, my eyes widening at the sight before me. Damon's arms were tightly locked around Stefan's neck. Stefan made slight jerking movements to somehow try and loosen Damon's grip, but failed to escape each time. I took a brisk step into the room, my first instinct to intervene, but as I paused for a second, I realized that this wasn't like a typical Salvatore fight-where blood was shed and lives were at stake- there was nothing malicious about it. A grin was plastered on Stefan's face, regardless of his current predicament and Damon didn't look too serious about hurting Stefan.

"Where is it?" Damon hissed, nudging Stefan. "Where did you put it?"

Stefan smirked up at Damon, "No where you'll ever find it."

"Damon you're going to make him pass out." I chided, seeing as Stefan's face was slowly turning a shade of deep pink from lack of oxygen.

Just because there fighting wasn't spiteful, didn't mean that Damon wouldn't take it too far. I knew firsthand just how quickly things could get out of hand between these two.

Damon unwound his arms from Stefan's throat and shoved his body violently away from him. Stefan chuckled as he stumbled to the floor.

"Worried that if this video gets out it'll ruin your reputation?" Stefan raised his eyebrows to Damon, in question.

"If I started wearing a dress, not even that could tarnish my reputation." Damon retorted. I snorted in amusement; Damon snapped his head towards me, "Do you have something to say, love?"

I shook my head, biting my lip, to prevent the giggles bubbling within me. "No." I managed to squeak out, as I tried to erase the mental image of Damon in a dress. Because no matter what he'd like to think, that definitely would tarnish his 'reputation'.

"I thought not." he stated crisply, returning his attention back to Stefan. "I will fight you for this tape." Damon challenged, taking a playful stance, jabbing fists in the air.

"Alright." Stefan agreed. "First one who can't handle the pain anymore forfeits and loses. If you win, I'll give you the video. If I win...well let's just say, copies will be made."

"Deal." Damon smiled in anticipation.

"I don't know if this is such a good idea…" I voiced worriedly, not wanting anyone to get hurt.

"It'll be ok, Isobel." Stefan assured, sensing my apprehension, "Nothing is going to get out of hand."

"Yeah, it's all in good fun." Damon added. Though his devious remark only fueled my uneasiness. "Right Stef?

"Right."

Both brothers looked to me expectantly, waiting for my ok on the matter. I remained silent, unconvinced that anything good could come out of this.

Damon threw down his hands, exasperated, "Oh come on, Isobel. I'm not going to kill him."

"Fine." I sighed, giving in, seeing as that with or without my consent they were going to do this. A victorious grin burst out onto Damon's face. "But I'm not cleaning up the mess."

"You heard the lady, brother." Damon taunted. "Fight me."

"With pleasure." Stefan drawled, immediately his arm darting out and throwing the first punch, which Damon dodged swiftly. Stefan's fist hurdled back, colliding with Damon's stomach. Damon let out a grunt of pain, a smirk brightening his features.

"Damn, is that all you got?" Damon queried, his voice hoarse. "Isobel punches harder than you."

Damon barreled into Stefan's torso, tackling him to the floor. The two struggled to push the other one back. Closed fists rammed into bodies, limbs perilously struggled to strangle around throats, legs, and arms. Curses were being mumbled under breaths. It was a blur that was too difficult for my human eyes to follow.

A brisk knock sounded at the front door. However it wasn't enough to pause the two wrestling on the floor.

"You mind gettin' that?" Damon gritted out, just as Stefan's fist smashed into his jaw. "Kinda busy."

"Who's gonna supervise this to make sure you two don't kill each other then?" I reasoned.

"I promise I won't kill him in the two minutes your gone." Damon replied smoothly, flashing me a forced grin, as he got Stefan in yet another headlock.

I shook my head, turning away and padding to the front of the house. My palm grasped the brass doorknob, wrenching the door open. A man stood lifelessly in the center of the porch. His expression was glazed over, a milky white film skimmed over his pupils, and his hands were at his sides.

"Um…can I help you?" I mused suspiciously, my brow furrowed.

"Are you Isobel?" he asked robotically.

"Yes." I answered, my guard instantly going up.

He handed me a cream colored envelope with my name scrawled on top. I was left dumbstruck, recognizing the familiar handwriting. My heart began to thud painfully as a feeling of dread washed over me.

"What is it?" I croaked out weakly, barely finding the words to speak, fearful of the answer.

"A letter from Calogero."