A.N.: Thank you so much for the reviews! I really do appreciate them!
So, to recap: Elena committed suicide with Isobel's blood in her veins, transitioning into a vampire by feeding on Matt. And Fabian has returned to Mystic Falls! Inspiration for his looks and personality come from Orlando Bloom's character Rycroft Philostrate in Carnival Row - give it a watch on Prime, he really impressed me.
I was watching an episode of Hospital that focused on sufferers of Functional Neurological Disorder, which is the closest to what Fabian would likely have been medically diagnosed with if his seizures weren't linked to the supernatural.
Resurgam
40
Lost Time
She didn't let go for a long time, arms wrapped around him, pressed tight against him, afraid that if she let go he would melt into the mist, nothing but a memory. But he was real, sturdy, and wrapping his arms around her, his body relaxed as they clung to each other.
He was here…
And here meant…
It meant many things, but the worst implication struck her, and she clung on, knowing the truth, dread settling in the pit of her heart. She reached up to wipe her face, sniffing softly, and gulped down tears, blinking them away. In the moonlight, her eyesight sharpened… Through her wet eyelashes, she saw him, lingering in the treeline; he gave her a tragic smile, and melted into the shadows. Giulia hugged Fabian a little tighter, tucking her face against his neck.
Fabian was here, and Elijah had stepped back.
Fabian was here…
Eventually, she rubbed his back, and pressed her lips against his neck in a display of affection before releasing him. He looked exhausted, but he gave her a warm smile as if he had missed her more than anything, was relieved to see her face, and she took his hand and led him over the threshold; a cello case leaned against the wall. Fabian had a duffel-bag at his feet, but it was light when Giulia reached for it. He hadn't packed much. She locked the door behind them, trying not to dwell on Elijah melting into the shadows rather than interrupt her reunion with her husband - or the implications of Fabian having packed so lightly. As if he hadn't anticipated a long stay. He read it in her face, though; and after setting the cello case neatly out of the way, he cradled her cheeks in his warm palms, brushing the last of her tears away.
"These are not for me," he murmured, in French. They had always spoken French to each other, ever since they had met, and Giulia had been determined to pick up his language.
"Some of them are," she admitted sombrely. His dark eyes examined her face, memorising what he saw, and he rested his forehead against hers, nuzzling his nose against her, eyes closed, relaxed…relishing their closeness. It was intimate, and heart-breaking - it broke Giulia's heart. Because she knew that if he was here…
He had done all he wanted to do. All he could do, because his visions took such a toll.
He could finally rest.
He no longer needed his greatest asset; his visions. He…was content, now, to live without them, for as long as he had left…
And Giulia knew that could not be long. Not if he was here.
And looking into his sombre, tired brown eyes, he knew. He knew Giulia understood why he was here. She knew what was happening to him.
Fabian was here because his time was running out.
They might have stolen more time for him, had they stayed together. Had he chosen her over the visions he needed to shape their world, the visions she could have forged their future without… They had met at the wrong time. The visions had taken him too far, there was no going back. Giulia was brilliant enough to work without supernatural advantages like Fabian's visions…but even she had to admit, she had used the information Fabian had given her. His bridal gift to her, alongside his family's delicate, antique daisy diamond ring, had been priceless nuggets of information.
Fabian could not have done what he had the last ten years without Giulia's help: Everything had changed for him when they had met, as much as it had for her.
He had been waiting for her.
Everything they had set in motion years ago was starting to pay off.
They had arranged things over a decade. Patiently sowing seeds and reaping the benefits, carefully tending to their little projects, a snip here, more nourishment there to help things grow, to contain the spread or encourage new growth. Giulia likened herself to a gardener, especially once she started the Edible Farmyard and noted the skills from one directly applied to the other. It was no wonder she got along so well with Finn. Patient, careful, letting some things grow wild, meticulously pruning others to ensure things thrived - the right things. Even a weed was sometimes useful: And she had allowed some of the weeds to gain ground and spread, because it was necessary.
And whatever was necessary for the world they envisioned, she would do.
She had let certain weeds thrive because Fabian had advised it was necessary - to answer questions she had; and promote their shared goal.
A fiercely powerful witch, Fabian wanted to stop the disease of vampirism from spreading. Giulia…had wanted to ensure Elijah's happiness, firstly. Discover her uncle Joshua Salvatore's fate, secondly; and, when she realised his fate had had everything to do with zealots in the Order, her third aim had been to eradicate the hate-group forever - and neutralise any need for one in neutralising the threat of the Originals by altering their circumstances.
They were both exceptional minds, both visionary and creative. And Giulia trusted that when Fabian claimed their seemingly divergent goals could be honoured with subtle tweaks to their combined plans, he was telling the truth. Fabian was many things, but a liar was not one. Why lie, when the truth was far more powerful: More destructive, inspiring more hope, severing relationships and forging new alliances. Truth was a weapon, and they had learned to use it strategically to get what they both wanted.
She had used the truth to nullify Klaus' hold over his sibling, and to unite the Originals as they never had been united as a family in a thousand years.
There were creative solutions to every problem. And Giulia…she was nothing if not dazzlingly creative and achingly clever. Together with Fabian, they had decided on a course of action. Fabian was here because their plans were about to come to fruition. Everything they had worked towards, together and apart, for the last few years - everything she had given new zeal with her arrival in Fabian's life just as his visions were becoming too overwhelming to do anything constructive with…
"You're here," she whispered, her lips trembling.
Fabian rested his forehead against hers, sighing softly, "I'm home."
After a moment's devastated silence, she moaned, "I would have come to meet you," her hands on his waist as he continued to cradle her face as if holding something utterly precious.
"What has happened?" he asked, his eyes tracking the tear-stains on her cheeks before his thumbs tenderly brushed them away. She smiled at the irony, an oracle asking her what was going on: But he was not omniscient. And he forgot more than he remembered of his visions…he saw the future more clearly than the present, and it was a rare occasion he was completely lucid for longer than a week at a time, rarer still that a second day passed without him suffering a vision. Those rare occasions had all been directly tied to Giulia. He hadn't had the luxury of enjoying his life except for when Giulia had been part of it.
She gazed back at him, and realised, with a sad smile, "It doesn't matter."
This was Elena's choice: Not her concern.
Gazing into Fabian's dark, tired eyes, Giulia smiled softly, repeating, "It doesn't matter… Do you…remember where you were?"
He nodded, and murmured, "North Carolina." Giulia gazed at him.
"You found him?" she murmured, and Fabian nodded. That meant… "Are you hungry?"
"Oi!" Fabian gasped, and Giulia smiled, setting his duffel down by the island, and turned to the refrigerator, as Zeus unfolded from his bed to sniff at Fabian's knees and introduce himself, letting Fabian stroke his ears. Eggs, bread and cheese were all Fabian needed to be content. She pulled the expensive, imported French cheeses she jealously hoarded out of their containers to warm up to room temperature, and Fabian's smile was rich, his eyes twinkling with delight, as he made a throaty noise of approval, picking through the labels, and she reached for the bread-bin full of crusty sourdough bread she had made. Fabian had taught her how to enjoy cheese: With crusty bread, never savoury biscuits, and a small glass of wine. While he went and refreshed himself in the powder-room, she brought out eggs and butter and went to the deck to tear fresh herbs from the planters, and, remembering she had missed her own evening meal to make sure Matt was resurrected with his eternity-ring, Giulia prepared enough eggs to make two omelettes - folded French-style. Silky and smooth on the outside, deliciously scrambled and tender on the inside.
A small glass of wine and fresh omelettes, and Giulia could not stop glancing at Fabian as they quietly shared their meal, for fear he would disappear before her very eyes.
And it didn't matter. It didn't matter to her that Elena had transitioned into a vampire today. It mattered, of course, that she had manipulated Isobel and attacked Matt to do it, but as for Elena herself, Giulia did not spare her a second thought as soon as she discovered Fabian on her doorstep. What had upset her before no longer mattered; it was not her trauma to carry with her. She had made sure Matt was safe, and ensured Isobel had taken Grayson out of harm's way. Whatever came next, Giulia's only concerns were for Matt and Grayson - and a little bit for Isobel, too.
But…as with Mason learning how to be a single-father to Spencer, Matt would have to figure it out on his own how he and Grayson were going to live. And how, if at all, Elena figured into their lives going forward. And she trusted Matt to do it, and do it well, which was what was important.
And Giulia… Gazing at Fabian, Giulia knew her priorities. They were not to parent her friends, not anymore.
Fabian wasn't here to just shake up her life, and make things awkward. People might assume that, given…his visions, and Elijah, and the fact that Fabian was a stranger to them… But she knew that Fabian was here because his time was running out. And he had made her a promise: He would not die alone.
She didn't mention it; they didn't need to discuss it.
Fabian enjoyed his omelette, smiling to her as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and sipped his wine. She had finished hers; and set her knife and fork neatly, refreshing their wine-glasses. She heard movement upstairs, and beamed.
"You've never met Enzo," she smiled. "Go get comfortable on the sofa and we'll have cheese there…" She cleared away the plates, Fabian carried the wine-bottle and a large basket of crusty bread to the coffee-table, Zeus following him closely, and Fabian caught her gently by the wrist before she could whirl to the foot of the stairs. He tugged her toward him, into his arms, and she tasted the wine on his lips as he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly.
This wasn't where she had anticipated the day would end.
Walking on air, she traipsed upstairs, and couldn't stop smiling. Because even though the implications were devastating…he was here. She knew where her husband was, could be with him…could look after him. The best thing for her, raising Zita, had been to stop letting herself worry about things beyond her control - Fabian's absence in her life. She had had no clue what he had been doing the last five years, whether he was safe, or healthy - she knew he was alive, could feel him through their connection, the vows they had made to each other… But it was one thing to be married and another to share a marriage.
They had been separated multiple times longer than they had been together.
And it was strange, the flutter of exhilaration she got in the pit of her stomach that rose up to somewhere that constantly ached between her ribs, the…happiness, the delight that came with Fabian's return - even as she acknowledged the crushing reason why he had come home to her.
She knocked on Enzo's door and peeked her head inside, smiling.
He lifted his headphones off his ears. "No need to warn me you and Elijah are about to get filthy," Enzo smirked. "I've got my music on."
"It's not… Fabian is here," Giulia said, and Enzo quirked an eyebrow, turning the page of his book.
"And I've got a unicorn in the closet. No peeking! I'm keeping it to surprise Zita for Christmas," he said sardonically.
"Enzo. Fabian is here," Giulia said, and he raised his eyes to hers, frowning softly. She was serious.
"Well, when did that happen?" he asked. "I thought Elijah was coming over for a chat?"
"He was…and he saw Fabian and…" And that was it; Elijah had taken a step back. "Would you come down and meet him, please?"
No-one had met Fabian. Not even Caroline, who had visited her most frequently in Europe using Damon's air-miles. Thinking of Caroline, Giulia stifled a groan. There would be little stopping Caroline trying to fix Giulia's marriage, not with Fabian here.
Downstairs, Zeus grumbled, and then gave a bark. There was a loud bang, and Giulia whirled to the stairs; Enzo was on her heels as she slipped downstairs, and she froze, approaching the living-area.
She hadn't this.
Fabian was having a seizure. Lying on the rug, his entire body seized and twitched, his eyes rolling, making choked groaning pants as his hands clenched, his body locking. And it had taken him while he stood by the coffee-table: As Giulia approached, she noticed he had hit his head, splitting the skin but not severely…it added to the cut above his eye, his other bruising. There was no telling where and when the visions would strike him; little way to prepare for them when they came on. He had to endure them, and figure out where he was after: Sometimes he woke up where he fell, other times, in strange hospital-rooms, or in places he had no memory of travelling to. The visions gave him knowledge, but for everything they gave, they stripped away little pieces. Fragments, at first, things that would go unnoticed…but when Fabian luxuriated in a rare stretch of lucidity, he had stretches of time missing; people spoke to him as if they knew him and he had no memory of them; he forgot why he was there, and more importantly, what he was supposed to be doing.
If he had a crucial task to complete, one vision hitting him at the wrong moment literally altered the course of the future.
His visions were based on actions. People's choices: For every different decision that could be made, there was a butterfly effect, and every time someone changed their minds, the visions changed. Fabian was called ever-knowing because he had consistently had visions on a near-daily basis for the greater majority of his adult life, ever since he had come into his powers at puberty.
The seizures had started to accompany his visions when he was in his thirties - he still looked to be in his late-thirties now, but Giulia knew…magic ensured he had lived far longer, the same way Kol and Ástríðr had extended their lives, their youth, centuries ago. Magic like that would always catch up eventually; but not before Fabian's visions would kill him.
With every seizure, something was hacked away.
Physically, he was a specimen of health and vigour - Giulia would know.
It was his mind that was failing.
And perhaps it was a side-effect of Fabian extending his life with magic to gain foresight from the visions - he should have been dead decades ago: Perhaps the seizures were Nature's way of ensuring he could not utilise his gifts as weapons for much longer than Nature had intended.
Either way… Giulia knew what to do when a seizure struck, the same way any carer knew how to look after their patient.
There was no calling an ambulance, no seeking medical advice from Meredith. Giulia knew what to do: Wait it out. There was nothing else to do.
"My God," Enzo murmured in Italian, as he watched Fabian moan and twitch on the rug. Giulia grabbed a cushion from the sofa and gently tucked it under Fabian's head. "How long will this last?"
"It could be moments," Giulia said, her heart sinking. Fabian was back…and he was dying. This was what that meant. Seizures that would meticulously strip away everything that he was, leaving nothing but a healthy body behind. She had asked Fabian earlier if he remembered where he had been; that he could say, definitively, that he had been in North Carolina, was astounding. She hadn't expected him to know. She glanced up at Enzo, tenderly stroking Fabian's hair from his face. He had absolutely no awareness of where he was, or who he was with, when a seizure struck him - it was astounding he had lived this long, considering how vulnerable the seizures left him. But there was some benefit to seeing the future… She tenderly kissed Fabian's head, and murmured, "It could be hours."
"Hours?" Enzo said, sinking onto the sofa, his expression pinched, eyes wide, as he watched. It was not pleasant to watch. Not funny. Giulia nodded.
"The worst I remember lasted six hours," she said. They had been at the beach in the south of France for a rare long-weekend: She could do nothing but screen him from the sun, and read aloud to him - as much to settle her nerves as anything: He couldn't hear her, lost in other worlds, other times.
"Six hours?" Enzo breathed, shaking his head as he watched. Zeus curled up beside Fabian, grumbling, his head on Fabian's chest, licking Fabian's clenched hands. Giulia reached out to scratch his ears, realising.
"You felt it come on, didn't you?" she asked the gorgeous Weimeraner, who turned his glacial blue eyes on her. She stroked his elegant muzzle. She had heard a bark before Fabian fell. They said dogs could scent seizures before they came on; they could smell cancers, too… Wonderful creatures. "You did, didn't you?"
Simba appeared, her gorgeous young blue tabby point Siamese; he rubbed against Giulia, purring deeply, before scenting Fabian delicately, and curled up on his stomach. The animals knew…
"You told me before that he has…visions," Enzo said, watching Fabian with a frown on his face. "Is he having one now?"
"Yes," Giulia said softly. "They take their toll…"
Enzo gasped, flinging himself away from them. Giulia blinked at him, startled: He sank, shaking, onto the sofa, his face pale, his eyes wide. She narrowed her eyes. "What did you do?"
"His mind is wide-open…" Enzo gasped, shuddering. He raised his wide eyes to Giulia's. "I took a peek - it's like someone's scrambling eggs… It's like that all the time?"
"I wouldn't know," Giulia said quietly, glancing down at Fabian as she stroked the hair from his brow. "I've never looked… There's a reason he forgets more than he shares. A reason why he has seizures…his body has a visceral reaction to the trauma his mind endures…"
"I never imagined it was…this bad," Enzo admitted quietly, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands, wincing at whatever it was he had witnessed in Fabian's mind. Giulia didn't ask: That was Enzo's mistake to make - he would never do it again.
"It never was…when he was with me," Giulia said sadly. Fabian had had more continuous days of lucidity with Giulia than the rest of his extended life combined. Any seizures he had had - barring that day at the beach - had been considerably less severe than he had ever endured, until he had stopped having them, and his visions, altogether. And that was an extraordinary and unsettling thing for Fabian. He hadn't known life without his visions, his seizures, for decades. He hadn't had the luxury of enjoying his life for as long. Not until Giulia, a mystical dead-zone for his visions - a rare person he was blind to: He had followed her life through the lives of others connected to her, until the morning she had finally walked up to him and introduced herself, after a week of seeing him at the same little café with an espresso and a croissant. He had smiled, and said to her, simply, "What took you so long?"
They had fallen in love, and into bed, almost instantly, and his first seizure had scared the hell out of her. And then it became normal, until it was unusual that he wasn't suffering his seizures anymore. Giulia had learned how to take care of him; and Fabian had learned to let her, until he no longer needed her to, and they could just enjoy each other. They had enjoyed their life together, for as long as it had lasted; and then…real life had caught up with them, creating cracks in the warm, safe, sultry cocoon they had enveloped themselves in.
By the time the cheeses were room temperature, starting to ooze, their fragrance pungent in the air, Fabian sighed, and his body started to relax. His bleary gaze became more focused, and he blinked sluggishly as Simba purred loudly and Zeus licked his hand. He squinted up, and focused on her face, raising a hand, to trail his fingertips along her jaw. "Giuliette…"
He was the only person to have ever called her that, besides her mother. Not even her dad had called her by the name her bother had given her. But it sounded so beautiful with Fabian's Belgian accent that she had never minded.
She smiled sadly, and winced when Fabian murmured, "You're here…"
He had forgotten.
The visions took their toll. They carved away pieces to make room.
"You hit your head," she said, and Fabian raised his hand to his head, grimacing subtly. He looked startled, as he sat up, dislodging Simba; Zeus raised his muzzle to give Fabian's neck a lick. Giulia didn't have to ask to know Fabian did not recognise where he was; had no memory of knocking on her door.
"It does not hurt," he muttered, and Giulia nodded; she glanced at Enzo, who, looking very guilty for invading Fabian's mind, reached to help Fabian sit up. They got him settled on the sofa. Ten minutes later, it was like his seizure had never happened. He bounced back, physically, so quickly: The lasting side-effects were all psychological. Great swathes of memory, gone. Recognition, failing. Confusion over languages. Uncertainty where he was - what year he was even in…he saw the future more clearly than the present: Giulia had been the one to ground him firmly in the present.
Fabian sighed, and gazed at her as she curled up close beside him, watching him carefully. "I found you… I thought I would not…"
"You did; I'm here," she said softly. He turned his sorrowful dark eyes on Enzo.
"Have we met?" he asked, in accented English.
"I'm afraid not," Enzo answered. "I'm Lorenzo."
Fabian frowned thoughtfully at him. "Giuliette has spoken of you." Enzo flicked his dark eyes to Giulia.
"You remember that?" she asked quietly, in French, because Enzo was fluent too.
"A little," Fabian admitted, wincing subtly. He massaged his stomach, his eyes lighting up at the spread of cheese and bread in front of them. Sometimes it was the physical reassurance, the intimacy Fabian needed, more than anything; she reached out to rub his arm, and turned to the cheeses and fresh bread on the coffee table. She knew how physically draining the seizures were, even with his swift recovery; mental exhaustion, as she well knew, seeped into everything, drained energy as effectively as any brutal workout.
So she loaded his plate with cheese and bread and lashings of fresh, organic butter, and refilled his wine-glass, handing him the plate with a small knife. He watched her carefully as she did so, and asked, "How long was it?"
She checked her watch, and said quietly, "Half an hour."
Quiet, for a few moments, as Fabian ate meticulously, enjoying each mouthful of food. Then, "How long have I been here?"
"You just arrived," Giulia answered. "I made omelettes, but you haven't been here more than two hours." Fabian frowned bemusedly.
"I was…in North Carolina…" he muttered, and Giulia nodded. Their eyes met, and he relaxed. He didn't have to explain why he had been there - or that he couldn't remember why it was important that he had been there; she knew. She remembered, even if he couldn't. That was her job: To remember.
"Well, we're both glad you're here, now," Enzo said, helping himself to a half-glass of wine. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"And you, also," Fabian said, rather formally, but that was his way; he had been born into a more formal time.
"Zita will be interested to meet you," Enzo said lightly, and Giulia glanced sharply at Fabian, who frowned subtly. "Especially as Simba's taken a shine to you; he only adores Giulia."
"Simba is a connoisseur," Giulia remarked, sniffing, and Enzo smirked as she reached out to stroke Simba. He purred loudly, and curled up in her lap so she could stroke his ears, staring at Fabian.
Fabian frowned at her bemusedly. "Zita?"
Quietly, aware of Enzo watching, his eyebrows raised, Giulia murmured, "Notre fille."
She had not seen him, not spoken to him or heard of him since she had moved to New Orleans, just beginning her second trimester of pregnancy. He wouldn't know her daughter's name. So she shared it: "Zita Alma Carolina Hero," she said softly, and Fabian's eyes lit up at the name Alma. Named for the grandmother who had raised him.
Giulia cast Enzo a subtle glance; he took the cue, and made his excuses, padding his way upstairs, leaving the two of them in privacy. Fabian gazed at her, his brows lowering, his eyes dark and bemused. Eventually, he winced, "What have you told her about me?"
She gazed back, and admitted, "Nothing. She's a child. It would mean nothing to her…"
"How old is she?"
Giulia sighed softly. "Cinq."
"Cinq," Fabian repeated, and for a heartbeat as he gazed at Giulia, he looked utterly devastated. Over five years, they had been separated. He reached up to scrub his hand over his face, looking as tired as Giulia felt. "It has felt like longer."
"I know," she said softly. It was a lifetime ago. Zita's lifetime.
Zeus kept close to Fabian's side as he helped Giulia tidy up the plates, returning the uneaten cheeses to the refrigerator. Giulia turned off all the lamps, checked the locks, and picked up Fabian's duffel-bag, leading the way upstairs. Her home was large, with four bedrooms; but one was Enzo's, one was Zita's, and one was Spencer's. And she wouldn't have asked Fabian to sleep in a guest-room anyway.
He always tended to sleep well after a seizure, they took so much out of him - but the danger was, more visions crept up on him while he slept. Giulia got him settled in her room, and when he had fallen asleep, she realised…
Propped up against her pillows, a hand on Fabian's back as he slept, she burrowed under the covers and dialled Caroline's phone, waiting for a response. When Caroline finally answered, she was flustered and excitable. "Where did you disappear to? Major crisis on our hands, Giulia - Elena's not taking to this whole vampire thing well at all, she's been crying since she got here. Matt won't let her into the loft to grab any of her things. Apparently Isobel's at the loft like an irate pit-bull guarding Grayson, which is good, I guess -"
Giulia blinked, and remembered. It had only been hours ago… "Caroline -"
"Of course, I said Elena could stay with me for a little while, so I can help her through the adjustment period, because the boys don't have houseroom and said no, and the Originals aren't exactly model vampire citizens," Caroline said, taking a breath, and taking Elena's transition in stride.
"Caroline -"
"-and of course we'll need to figure out her daylight-ring situation, because, well… Jeremy's upset and Ashlyn…" Completing Caroline's sentence for her, Giulia thought, Ashlyn thinks Elena is a spoiled brat. "And Sheila's still spooked, but I haven't asked her yet, it's so late. Maybe I'll give her a call in the morning. But where do I get the lapis lazuli? It's not exactly common."
"Caroline," Giulia tried again, shaking her head as she listened. This was classic Caroline. Making lists to sidestep tragedy. It would sink in eventually, but for now, Caroline was focused on her next task.
"…and I thought maybe we could do a Lost Weekend, you know, like you did with me when I turned, take Elena to New York to work everything out of her system so she doesn't hurt anyone she, you know, loves," Caroline said.
"Like Matt, you mean," Giulia said sharply, and Caroline fell silent at her tone. Elena had already done irreparable damage to the one person she should never have hurt. Absently, she said, "That's not the reason I'm calling. I'm going to work from home this week, as much as is feasible with our schedules."
"Okay…why? Are you worried about Elena? She told me you attacked her -"
"We'll table the conversation about how she manipulated blood from Isobel before killing herself and feeding on Matt to complete her transition for another night," Giulia said, with a bite, not at all surprised Caroline had heard only one version of events - Elena's. And her annoyance, her anger, was clear in her voice; in her impatience as she said, "I'm not concerned about Elena. Do whatever you'd like with her, just don't count on my intervention. I'm giving you a call now, so you don't worry why I'm not at the office in the morning. Fabian is here." Her tone did not invite questions, or commentary. She sounded more matter-of-fact than she felt. "I'll be prioritising him for the foreseeable future." Ironic, considering Fabian was the oracle. "That means I'm going to be stepping back from things. And I'll need your support with the business, because there will be times I won't be able to honour our appointments, and I don't know when those will be. It all depends on him."
Caroline's voice softened, she was listening, all thoughts of Elena disappearing as she heard what Giulia was saying. Caroline was the only one she had confided in about Fabian; about the only possibility she would ever see him again. She knew if Giulia and Fabian had reunited…it wasn't good. "Oh… Okay, of course," Caroline said gently. "I… Giulia, I -"
"It doesn't matter," Giulia said, as Caroline geared up to enter Apology Mode. She hadn't been listening, and she knew it. "I don't know if Liz will still want to have Zita overnight, what with the murder cases…?"
"Are you kidding, she loves having Zita over, she's the best balm for all that horrible stuff Mom has to deal with every day," Caroline said softly. "I know she's looking forward to it."
"Okay, well, I'll still call Liz and check," Giulia said, making a mental note, and frowned, "But if Elena's staying with you, I will not have Zita anywhere near her."
Not when Elena was freshly turned, and had fed on Matt to complete her transition.
There was a brief silence, as if Caroline's heart had stuttered. Then she gasped, quiet but respecting Giulia's stern, unyielding tone, "Of course. Totally fair. I'll… I'll just ask Mom if I can join their playdate, I'm sure she'd love it."
"She always loves extra time with you," Giulia said quietly, reflecting on Liz Forbes. Perhaps she understood, more intimately than Caroline had yet grasped, that the memories they made now were all Caroline would ever have of her mother, for many lifetimes to come. And while Liz was fully dedicated to the Sheriff's Department, it meant their time together was limited - and therefore precious. Zita was Liz's surrogate granddaughter, the only one she would ever get; but Caroline…Caroline was her baby. Her only child. And the best thing she had ever done. The best of Liz would survive eternity: Caroline would carry Liz with her through every lifetime. Her influence would spread to every life Caroline's touched. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Caroline."
"Okay…sure," Caroline said softly, biting back everything she likely wanted to say at the news that Giulia's husband had surfaced after nearly six years.
Giulia ended the call, and Caroline sat in her tranquil bedroom, stunned. Both by the announcement that Giulia's husband had appeared, and by Giulia's attitude toward Elena and her transition. 'Manipulating blood from Isobel before killing herself and feeding on Matt to complete her transition'…that wasn't how Elena had put it. Caroline set her phone down, and padded to the door. She knocked on the door to the pretty guest-room, and peeked her head inside. Elena was reading, but Caroline frowned at her, blinking bemusedly, uncomprehending…
"You told me it was an accident."
A.N.: I can't remember if I've made Zita four or five yet - I've decided she's now five; we skipped her summer birthday. She's a Leo!
Let me know what you think of Fabian! I know it's his first appearance…
