IMPORTANT: I realized there was a consistency error last chapter, so I'd advise you go back and check the notes at the end of it for a summary of what I changed.
Hope you enjoy!
CHAPTER 6
ICU
.
She hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in months.
Ever since her parents' murder, whenever she dreamt, she dreamt of death, and illness, and other terrible things. There was a recurring nightmare that she had, wherein she relived entering her mother and father's bedroom on May 23rd. In her dream, her father's eyeless head would turn towards her with a sick snap and his mouth would stretch open until it hit the floor. From it, blood and insects would rush forth like a river from hell. Her mother would rise, neck twisted back, and stagger to her with open arms. "My angel," she would say, and her voice would be haunting. "I'm so proud of you. Look at what you've done." The first time she had it was back when they were living with the Forbes', and she had barely made it to the bathroom in time to vomit.
But last night had been different. Last night, she'd dreamt of snow.
Following the murder, she often found herself remembering the winters they'd spend in Colorado. She found herself remembering the snowball fights she would have with her family and drinking hot cocoa by the fireplace where she knew that she was safe and warm.
Where she knew that everyone was alive.
The reason they went to Colorado in the first place was so they could experience the snow properly, in the mountains. Since then, it had become a thing of solace for her. The snow owned a mansion inside her mind that she could enter when she needed to escape. A mansion she had entered last night.
The calm respite it had provided, however, sharpened into ice, and it must have managed to tear a hole and escape through her brain, because the pain she woke to was something fierce and unwavering. She went to massage her temple in an effort to provide some relief, but froze when she felt the bed shift behind her.
She and Elena slept in twin-sized beds. She knew, because Elena had rolled her eyes and left the room when she and Grayson had made the tenth joke about it. And sure, neither of them could be described as being particularly big, but there shouldn't be this much space left between them if they were sleeping in the same twin-sized bed, should there?
But then it hit her. She wasn't in her bed. She wasn't in Elena's bed. She wasn't even at home. Tanner… the tomb… Sheila… Her heart gave a great, big thump of panic. Stefan. She had slept with Stefan. In Bonnie's bed. In Bonnie's room. In Sheila's house. And the only thing that made her feel worse than the fact that she had completely betrayed her sister's trust was the fact that it had been incredible.
She decided to test her luck and blinked her eyes open, only to immediately squeeze them shut in pain. I need to turn onto my back. There's no window on the ceiling. But turning onto her back meant seeing him out the corner of her eye, which meant feeling like an even bigger piece of shit than she already did. Be an adult about this. It'd be better to get it over with quickly and you know that. Reluctantly, she rolled over slowly enough to where her head didn't feel like exploding.
Opening her eyes didn't hurt nearly as much this time, but seeing his bare skin there, just to her right, made her want to close them again. She brought her hands up to cover her face. God, what the hell is wrong with me? Sure, she'd had plenty of alcohol beforehand, but she knew that was no excuse. Not when before she was Angela Gilbert this was something she would have done sober and without remorse.
She hesitantly turned her head in his direction. He was still asleep, and she didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. On the one hand, she didn't immediately have to deal with the consequences of her actions. On the other, however, she didn't enjoy the anticipation that came with dragging this out longer than she had to. But he looked almost heartbreakingly peaceful, she thought, and she didn't want to be the one to disturb him.
She bit her lip. He's asleep, right? I can just get up and go to the bathroom. Maybe the sound of the shower will wake him up and I won't have to make the first move. But what if he wasn't truly asleep? What if he was only pretending to be so he could play along with however she reacted? What if he regretted it, too? Though it made her a hypocrite, she couldn't help how much that last possibility hurt her.
Her eyes scanned what they could see of the room. Her muddy jeans were by the desk beneath the painful-to-look-at window and her blouse was almost within arm's reach, but she couldn't see her undergarments anywhere. I can put my shirt back on and then sprint to the jeans. It shouldn't be too difficult, should it? She inched her body to the left until she could reach down and grab the blouse. It was crumpled and needed to be ironed, but it would do for now. Quietly, she slipped it over her head and glanced to the right. Still asleep.
The desk was approximately ten feet away. I'm 5'4". Tyler said that people's legs take up about half their height, so that's… how much, 2'6"? No. 2'7". How much is 10 divided by 2.7?
Fuck, she was too hungover for this.
Okay. Let's round it up. 3 times 3 is 9. That means it's gonna take me about four paces to get to the desk. Four big, silent paces. I can manage that, can't I?
She never thought she would be using the things she learned during her drawing lessons in order to semi-ditch a guy she slept with while drunk, but here she was, doing exactly that. Though he wasn't just any guy, was he? He was Stefan Salvatore. Not the fictional character played by an actor. The real, actual Stefan Salvatore. The real, actual Stefan Salvatore who had really, actually been born in the 1800s and was a real, actual vampire and had really, actually slept with her last night. Every now and then she wanted to laugh and cry like a madwoman at how utterly absurd her life had become.
She'd been staring at him, she realized, but how could she not? If she thought that he was gorgeous before, now, as rays of early morning light slipped through the blinds and made his skin glow gold, he looked like Apollo reborn. But even if he was thin as a stick and hideous, she knew that she would be just as attracted to him as she was at that very moment. Because he was kind, and had a strong, innate desire to do good, and a wicked sense of humor when he wanted to, and their chemistry last night had been amazing, and oh my God stop it, you lovesick fool.
Was that what this was? Love? No. This was a puppy crush. That's all it could be. That's all she would allow it to be. The alternative was far too dangerous.
Four paces. She made herself sit upright and winced when it felt like needles pierced her head. As quietly and painlessly as she could, she slid her legs out from beneath the duvet and turned to see if she'd disturbed him. His eyes were still closed and his breathing pattern hadn't changed, so she assumed she hadn't.
Slowly, she pushed herself up and crossed the room, hand held up to block the painful sun from her eyes. In the end, it took her three big paces and one small one to reach the desk. Not a bad estimate, she thought, for feeling as terrible as she did. She turned to keep an eye on him as she clumsily put her jeans back on. She was glad that the blinds were lowered; else she would have given any passersby quite the show.
Okay. The bathroom is all the way out the door and to the right. Can I make that, too? She subconsciously shook her head and sucked a breath in when it hurt. It doesn't matter if I can make it. I'm not naked anymore. Even if he sees me, it won't be that big a deal. It'll just be awkward as hell. But it would be awkward as hell either way, wouldn't it? God, she wanted to throw something.
She just had to start walking or she'd remain paralyzed in place. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other, and before she knew it she would be in the bathroom. She was nearly at the door when a piece of black fabric caught her eye. My bra. She saw it by the foot of the bed, on the side where Stefan was sleeping. She spotted his clothes as well, though her underwear was nowhere in sight.
It wasn't like it would be of much use to her, considering what he'd done to it, but it wouldn't do to leave behind any evidence. She resolved to look for it after he had gone. Her bra would be quite useful though, so she bent down to grab it.
With one final glance back at him, she slipped into the hallway and was met by the light wood door that led to Sheila's room. I should check on her first. Emily said there would be consequences to suffer, and she hadn't forgotten it for a second. She needed to know if she was still alive, at the very least.
She seemed to be asleep, but it wouldn't do to leave before confirming if she truly was alright. She went to her side and waited until her chest rose and fell. Unthinkingly, she touched her nose with the back of her fingers. It's warm. Her circulation's normal. That's good.
She blinked. Why did I know to do that? She drew her hand back and felt her heart squeeze in an unfamiliar way. No, she realized, it wasn't completely unfamiliar. It was the way it squeezed when she thought about how she would never be able to live a normal life; when she thought about how she'd never once left the country; when she thought about what in the world it was that she'd done last night.
She felt trapped, and had no idea why.
My head hurts too much for this shit. She would psychoanalyze herself some other time. Right now, she needed to take a shower. She felt sticky with sweat and, if her hair looked frizzy before, she couldn't imagine how it looked after sleeping with it down.
The warm water felt wonderful hitting her skin, and she did the best she could to keep her mind off of Stefan. I need to go over to the motel today. And start preparing a monologue for the theater auditions on Monday. I should also introduce Anna to Aunt Jenna. She still holds the rights to Dad's clinic, and if she thinks I'm good friends with Pearl's daughter… She could only see benefits to helping Pearl open her apothecary back up.
She was a bit nervous about talking to her, seeing as she'd be the oldest vampire she'd have met so far, but she knew in her mind that unless she felt insulted or threatened in any way, she wouldn't try to hurt her. Her largest cause for concern at the moment was the fact that she was Johnathan Gilbert's descendent. She knew that Pearl had a dislike for people who shared his surname – not that she could particularly blame her – but she hoped that showing her she only wanted to help would be enough to keep herself safe.
After stepping out of the shower and drying her body off, she put on her bra and hid it beneath a sage-colored robe. She did feel a bit bad for imposing, but she seriously doubted that Sheila would scold her for it, considering the circumstances. Assuming she ever wakes up to scold me. She grimaced. It wouldn't do to think like that. She'd woken up just fine last night, in the car.
When she'd invited Stefan in.
Well that didn't take long, did it? She leaned against the sink and groaned. Suddenly, staying in the bathroom for the rest of eternity seemed like a reasonable option.
She glanced up at the mirror and registered how good she looked. The workout she had gotten last night and the great night of sleep which succeeded it had left her skin looking vibrant and glowing. She gave her reflection the happiest smile she could manage and nodded in satisfaction. Combined with the fact that she didn't look nearly as bad as she felt, it should be enough to fool everyone.
She glanced at the hairdryer hanging from the wall. Maybe the sound of the shower wasn't enough to wake him up. I have to dry my hair anyway, right? This isn't me being sneaky, it's me being practical, right?
Right?
She rolled her eyes. Who am I kidding? She grabbed the dryer without so much as looking.
A short time later her task was finished, and she was pacing back and forth, trying desperately to think of a good reason to not leave the room. Maybe I passed out. Maybe I'm vomiting from all the alcohol. I rarely ever get drunk, after all. Maybe I have a fever. Maybe… maybe I'm just a big fucking coward. She snorted. There was no maybe about that one.
Her stomach rumbled. There was no maybe about the fact that she was starving, either. She could practically smell the bacon and eggs already. It was when she registered the faint sound of something sizzling that she realized she wasn't imagining it at all. Is he seriously cooking me breakfast? An invisible knife stabbed her insides. God, like I needed another reason to feel guilty. She shook her head to punish herself with the pain. Well now I can't be a coward, can I? It wouldn't be fair to him.
The sound of sizzling became significantly stronger when she was in the hallway, and so did the smell. It was almost enough to make her nauseous, though that might have been more due to the guilt. She padded over to the living room, but stopped before she could reach the kitchen. She needed a moment to steel herself. She took a deep, quiet breath, and forced herself to keep moving. One foot in front of the other.
As soon as she caught a glimpse of him, however, all she could think of doing was running back into the bathroom and locking herself away forever. Stop, stop, stop. You're being stupid. And you're overthinking. I'm sure it's awkward for him, too. You were drunk and he knows that. There's no way he, of all people, doesn't feel guilty about sleeping with you while in that state. He practically invented guilt. Maybe he actually did. He's definitely old enough. The thought was just humorous enough to make her smile. There we go. Just start walking. One foot in front of the other, remember?
Yes, she remembered. And she did exactly that until she was in the kitchen. The stove was on her right-hand side, which meant that he could see her as soon as she could see him. He froze before turning his head to look at her, and she did her best to keep her expression neutral. Neutral, and not deterrent. Neutral, and not inviting. Neutral, and not enough to give him any insight as to how she felt.
"Hey."
He was trying to look neutral too. "Hey."
There was a long pause before she motioned towards the pan. "You didn't have to do that, you know…"
He swallowed and shook his head. "It's the least I could do."
"What do you mean?"
He didn't answer, choosing instead to grab a plate and begin serving her breakfast. He set it down on the small, circular table. "Eat, please."
Eyeing him carefully, she crossed the room and sat down. He filled two mugs with coffee. "How do you take it?"
"Um… black's fine."
Wordlessly, he placed one of the mugs next to her plate before sitting down across from her. His eyes seemed to be avoiding hers, even as she continued to stare at him. He busied himself by taking a sip of coffee, and then another, and another, until he realized she wasn't doing anything.
He paused and looked at her in what seemed like concern. "Are you not hungry?"
A breathless laugh escaped her lips. "What?"
He set his mug down as a look of intense guilt crossed his face. "I… Angie, I can't even begin to apologize."
"For what, exactly?"
"For taking advantage of you."
I was right. She sighed and leaned back in her seat. "You didn't."
"Yes, I did. You were drunk."
"So were you. Besides-" She cut herself off. There was no way she could tell him about what she remembered of her previous self. Not when she couldn't even bring herself to tell her own family.
"Besides what?"
"Besides," she drew the word out to buy herself more time, "I wanted you before I was drunk." Of all the things you could've said, you chose the most embarrassing one? "B-but," she hurried to add, "I never would've done anything about it. Because of Elena." She let out a sharp, flustered breath. "Basically, what I'm trying to say is… don't blame yourself too much. Okay? It was my fault, too."
He was silent for a time. "It wasn't just the alcohol. For me."
Her heart stuttered. He couldn't possibly mean…
"It was your blood, too." Any butterflies she might have had died before they could be born. Of course he doesn't. "The taste of it made me crave more. But when you said that the reason you were keeping Damon alive was so we could be brothers again, even after how despicably he's treated you…" He shook his head. "I realized how unbelievably kind you must be. And the craving became… of a different kind."
She watched as he traced the rim of his mug. "Oh."
"So yeah, actually. I think I should blame myself. Completely."
"I don't." He scoffed, but she continued, "What I think is that you're projecting how you feel about drinking human blood onto what we did." She leaned forward and crossed her arms against the wooden table. "What we did. Not what you did." She had to make him understand. "You think I don't feel guilty when I know that my sister has feelings for you too? Of course I do. I feel like the scum of the earth and I don't know how I'm gonna look her in the eye after this, but…" But I can't project either. It's been over seventeen years and I'm not that person anymore. "Neither of us can pretend that we acted with a clear head. Because we didn't."
Her chest felt lighter after saying that. Telling him how she felt and realizing she truly meant it helped put her own issue into perspective. It would be hypocritical of her to feel bad because of the person she'd once been. The situation was simple: she fucked up. And so did he. It would do neither of them any good to read into it too much.
Unfortunately, reading was one of Stefan's favorite hobbies.
"Too?"
She blinked. "What?"
He mirrored her posture, leaning forward against the table. "You said that Elena has feelings for me too. What do you mean by too?"
Her mind went blank in panic. Keep digging that hole, won't you? You're gonna need it. "Well I mean-" She spoke so quickly she choked on her own spit. His eyes widened as she brought a hand up to cover her coughing mouth, and he quickly offered her her untouched coffee mug. She grabbed it without question and downed half its contents before she felt confident in her ability to speak again. Oh my God, you're such an embarrassment.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
She rubbed her temples, feeling as though her brain had been put through the blender. "No, no, it's fine. I'm just…" A mess. "Don't worry about it."
"You sure?"
She couldn't help but smile at his concern. "I'm sure. Pinky promise."
His lips twitched upward. "Guess you really mean it then."
"Are you using my own words against me?"
"They're wise words."
She chuckled, but immediately winced and brought her hands back up to her head. "Ugh… Wouldn't happen to wanna give me any more blood, would you?"
"I would if it'd actually do anything. A headache's not an injury; it's just something that hurts. Luckily," he stood, "we live in the twenty-first century. And aspirin exists."
"That it does. Under the sink."
He returned shortly, and she popped two tablets into her mouth, chasing them down with coffee. "Thank you."
He nodded towards her plate. "You can thank me by eating. It's getting cold."
Though she was hungry, eating was just about the last thing she felt like doing. She decided to humor him, however, and was pleasantly surprised by the taste.
"Wow, that's good. Like, really good."
He smiled. "Is it?"
"Yeah. I didn't realize that bacon and eggs could taste so… sophisticated? I think?"
His smile widened. "It's the parsley, isn't it?"
"Or maybe the fact that you've placed it all on top of bread."
"How does that make it more sophisticated?"
"Well, it looks nice. It also offers a different experience since you get to eat a bit of everything at once."
"Because people can't do that otherwise."
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you giving me sass?"
His smile had turned mischievous in a way that gave her butterflies. "Hey, you're the one who force-fed me your blood. Now you get to deal with the consequences."
That brought her back to the present, and she set her fork down. "Speaking of consequences… What do we do now?"
He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, inadvertently drawing her gaze down to his exposed forearms. Thankfully, though a few buttons on his shirt were missing, it wasn't enough to where he may as well not have been wearing it. She absolutely could not afford to think about how all that muscle had been pressed up against her, pleasuring her, and receiving pleasure from her last night.
"What do you want to do?"
You. She nearly laughed at the thought, and cleared her throat to cover it. "Well… I want to do what's best for my sister. And something tells me that her knowing what we did together is not that."
"So you want to forget this ever happened."
"I mean… I wouldn't put it that way…"
"I know you wouldn't. Because you're a good person."
She huffed. "Not really. I just try to be nice to the people I care about."
He tilted his head. "So, who is it you care about then: me or Damon?"
The question caught her off-guard. "What?"
"You said you were keeping him alive for our relationship's sake. But why would you care about our relationship unless you also cared about one of us?"
"I-I mean, I care about both of you, just…" She bit her lip, thinking of how to word it. "Okay. Say you know everything about a person. You know what their destiny would be if it never involved you. You've seen them at their best. You've seen them at their worst. You've seen what they're like when they're in love, and in mourning, and even how they used to be as a child, but they don't know a single thing about you. That's what it's like for me with Damon. I care about him in theory, I want him to be happy in theory, but I can't care about him in practice. Not yet. Not when the thought of seeing him again only scares me. But you…" She gave a gentle shrug. "I'm able to care about you in practice as well."
His head was tilted down in contemplation. "Is that what it's like with everybody? You know everything about them even if they know nothing about you?"
"Not everybody, but… almost every person I willingly interact with."
He seemed burdened by the very thought of it. "That sounds genuinely horrible."
She felt a sad smile tug at her lips. "You know… I don't think anyone's ever told me that before."
When he looked up at her, she felt her body go numb. There was a caring sheen to his green eyes that reminded her so very much of her mother. "How have you not gone insane yet?"
Her mind was assaulted by the memory of finding her parents on May 23rd. By the memory of eyes that had once looked so much like his, dead and staring through her. By the memory of what had happened after, and what kept on happening for four weeks. "Maybe," she didn't make herself speak, yet she could hear her voice, "I already have."
He frowned. "I've upset you." She hadn't realized that a tear had slid down her cheek until he leaned over to wipe it away. "I'm sorry."
She startled back. "No." She swallowed to try and calm herself. "Don't be. Please." The sharp breath that escaped her was one of sour amusement. "See? I'm not a good person. We were talking about the good of my sister and I made it all about me. Maybe Damon's the only one who treats me the way I deserve to be treated."
"Don't say that."
Shame burned her like a brand. "You're right. I'm sorry. You barely know me. I don't want to burden you with my issues."
He scoffed and grabbed her hands. She couldn't help it. She flinched. She regretted doing so immediately, however, because it made him let them go. "Damon barely has any humanity left in him. He doesn't treat you the way you deserve. He doesn't treat anyone the way they deserve. Don't you ever trick yourself into thinking that he does."
That didn't make her feel much better. Not when she knew how incredibly human he could be. "You sound like you speak from experience."
He gave a bitter smile. "A century's worth. You're not the only one in the room with a guilty conscience."
He was right. Here she was, complaining about Damon being a little mean to her, when Stefan had been promised an eternity of misery by him; when he would have experienced enough misery without his help to begin with.
"You're incredibly strong, you know."
His eyebrows shot up. "Strong." It was more a statement than a question, and she found his disbelief endearing.
"To keep going. To keep doing your best to be kind despite everything you've been through. I admire that about you. A lot."
He looked as though he was trying to remember something. "I… I don't think anyone's ever told me that before, either."
A strange emotion bloomed in her chest, though it was far from unpleasant. "Well I'd hate to be predictable."
"Trust me. If there's one thing you're not, it's predictable."
She grinned. "What, you mean you don't get to speak to an alien from an alternate universe every day?"
He gave her a gentle smile and shook his head. "I don't get to speak to someone without pretense every day. It's refreshing."
She put her finger on what the emotion in her chest was. It was affection.
She felt genuine affection towards him. Not the shallow kind of affection she'd felt before, but the deeper kind that came from realizing just how similar you were to somebody. A thought struck her, however, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Wow. This is probably the deepest conversation I've ever had the morning after."
"You know what? I think it's the deepest conversation I've had, too."
She cleared her throat. "Speaking of… Are we still pretending this never happened? You do care about Elena, don't you?"
He nodded his head to the side. "I do." Hearing that didn't hurt. She didn't care what he felt for her sister, she realized, so long as feeling it made him happy. "And if that's what you want, I'll respect it."
"Is it not what you want?"
"What I want is for you to not feel uncomfortable. And I don't want Elena to feel uncomfortable either." He shrugged. "You're her sister. You know how to prevent her feeling that way better than I do."
"I think that would be the best way. Besides, it's not like you cheated on her or anything. That'd be a whole other story." And one she never wanted to think about.
He nodded. "Then that's what we'll do."
She stood with a nod of her own. "Then that's what we'll do. Now, we should get ready for school."
"Are you not going to finish your food?"
"I can just eat extra during lunch."
"And insult my cooking in addition to waking me up?" he asked teasingly. "That shower you took was almost suspiciously loud."
She felt heat flood her face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm sure you don't."
They silently stared at each other until she huffed and sat back down. "Oh, okay, fine. I'll eat your food."
"My sophisticated food." He raised a brow. "Wise words."
She nearly flung a slice of bacon at him.
Before Stefan left the house, she had him check on Sheila with his heightened senses. He said that, as far as he could tell, she was merely sound asleep. Her heartbeat was normal, as was her temperature, and Angela decided it was time to start getting ready. Worrying wouldn't do her any good when there was nothing to be done about it.
Digging her cell phone out of her bag, she saw that Caroline had tried calling her at around 10 o'clock last night, but decided to talk to her after she'd gotten dressed. She scrolled over to her contacts and dialed Bonnie's number. It took a couple rings for her to pick up, and when she did, she sounded like she was trying not to panic.
"Hey! Is Grams okay?"
"Whoa, hey, she's fine." There was a sigh of relief so genuine it made yesterday feel all the more worth it. "I was just calling to ask if I could borrow an outfit. I don't know if you saw the storm last night, but everything but my bra is pretty much ruined." She neglected to mention that the reason one garment in particular was ruined was not, in fact, because of the storm.
She let out a breathless laugh. "Geez, you gave me a heart attack for that? Of course, Ann, take anything you want."
They resolved to talk about what happened at the tomb during lunch, with the rest of the group, and Bonnie thanked her for staying with Sheila in her stead. They hung up, and Angela made her way over to the bedroom. She regarded the contents of the closet carefully.
While she was a bit curvier than Bonnie, they weren't too dissimilar in size, and after slipping into a pair of underwear just bland enough she doubted it'd be missed, she put on a black, lacy tank top that she couldn't recall ever having seen before. She tucked it into the waistband of some light blue jeans and chose a heavy, pink cardigan that she thought completed the look.
She stripped the mattress, trying not to think about anything she had done on it, and dumped everything into the laundry basket. As quickly as she could, she dressed the bed before grabbing her bag and walking to the bathroom. She checked the time and, seeing as she still had plenty to spare, decided to call Caroline and put her on speakerphone while she did her makeup.
"Hey! Oh my God, my mom told me about Tanner, and I called Elena, and she said that-" She cut herself off and began whispering. "She said that Damon killed him right in front of you! Are you doing okay?"
She examined the hickeys on her neck. "Define okay."
"Ugh, see, this is why I said I'd never let you out of my sight! I leave and five seconds later you're witnessing a murder? God, what is wrong with me?"
She took the concealer and powder out of her bag and went to work on covering them. "You can't blame yourself for that and you know it."
"I'll blame myself for it all I want! You already have enough trauma built up for a lifetime, you don't need any more."
"So what, are you gonna tail me like a puppy from now on? Actually, you know what? I always thought you'd make an absolutely adorable Cocker Spaniel."
She hummed mockingly. "God, you are so funny. Have I ever told you you should go into stand-up? You'd be great at it! I'm sure everyone would stand up and leave immediately."
"Ha! Wow, hey, just like every guy you talk to! What a coincidence."
There was a loud, drawn-out gasp. "That was low."
"You started it."
"Unbelievable. You know, here I called you, worried out of my mind, and this is how you treat me?" She could hear the grin in her voice.
"If you didn't like to suffer, you wouldn't crave popularity so much."
"Popularity is an art. Not that I'd expect you to understand. Aren't you, like, 50?"
"Maybe I am. Who knows?" She sure didn't.
"Well, anyway, even if you could be my grandma, you should still be able to go on a shopping spree tonight. I need to get my fix before clubs start and the members of the Go Green campaign call me out for giving into consumerism."
"A shopping spree honestly sounds great right about now." She moved onto covering the circles beneath her eyes.
"Great! So, tell me, what happened with Douchebag yesterday?"
"Douchebag?"
"Yeah, you know. D for Damon. D for Douchebag. It works."
"Oh, I see. Well, that's probably something that should be discussed during a group meeting. I'll tell you all at lunch."
"Sure you can't just tell me now? I'll keep it a secret."
"Nice try."
"Ugh, you're no fun. Elena would tell me… At least everything went fine, right?"
"Sure did. I hope I didn't worry you too much."
"What, who, me? No, of course not, I just had to try and practice a cheerleading routine while imagining my best friend being murdered in the woods. Wasn't worried at all." She couldn't have sounded more sarcastic if she tried.
"You know you couldn't have come with."
"Oh, just let me yell at you."
She snorted. "Be my guest. Hey, by the way, would Elena also tell you that you're still gonna have your Co-Captain this year?"
"What!?" There was the sound of something clattering to the floor. "Oh my God, why didn't she tell me!?"
She smirked. "Oops, did she want to keep it a surprise? My bad. Just remember that you're not supposed to know."
"Right! Of course! Ugh, God, that's awesome! Does that mean you're continuing theater?"
"That's the plan." She put the products back into her bag and grabbed the liquid eyeliner.
Caroline squealed in excitement. "Finally! Normal, human stuff! God, I can't wait to go back to not worrying about you getting eaten all the time."
"I wouldn't bet on that happening any time soon, Care-bear."
"Yeah, well, not with that attitude."
She chuckled and moved onto mascara. "You're right. I'm sure everything will be fine if I'm just an optimist about it. Oh hey, um, speaking of not getting eaten… how would you feel about becoming my personal trainer?"
"What?"
"Yeah, I mean, you're athletic and we work well together. I'd feel better going up against spooky scaries if I could do a pushup or two."
"Spooky scaries?" she repeated mockingly. "That's what we're calling them?"
"Would you prefer dreadful dicks?"
There was a pause. "Good point. But yeah, sure! Why not? Does tomorrow morning work for you?"
"Morning? Saturday morning?"
"Are you willing to show commitment or not?"
She wanted to complain, but she knew that this was why she asked Caroline, specifically, to train her. She wouldn't go easy on her like the rest of the group would. "Fine. Tomorrow morning. What time?"
"Eight. My house. And you're walking. Oh! No caffeine, either. Fresh-squeezed orange juice or water, take your pick."
She let out a whine. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. And if you're hungry, eat a bowl of oatmeal."
She couldn't remove the disgust from her face. "Okay…"
"Alright! I'm gonna go. See you at school?"
"Looking forward to it," she deadpanned and, as soon as they hung up, threw her head back with a groan.
Sheila was still asleep when she exited the house, but she'd left her with a glass of water, some aspirin, and her cell phone within arm's reach. Most, but not all, of the blood had come off her jacket, and since she couldn't find any hydrogen peroxide anywhere, she chucked it into the trunk along with all her other clothes.
She unlocked the driver's seat, but her face dropped when she was greeted by the sight of mud on the seats. She slowly looked down at the clean pair of jeans she was wearing. "God. Fucking. Dammit." Thankfully, the antibacterial wipes she still had saved Bonnie's clothes from getting ruined as well, and she arrived to school only five minutes late.
Being five minutes late, however, meant that she barely made it in time to catch the end of Principal Torres' speech. She heard her say something about love, and solidarity, and how there will be a memorial held for William Tanner on Monday, but her eyes were cold and distant. Whenever they looked in Angela's direction, she couldn't help but feel as though she was singling her out from the crowd and condemning her for what she'd done to him.
When everyone had been dismissed and the students started filing out of the auditorium, Elena caught wind of her presence. "Hey," she greeted. "Are you doing okay?"
No, she wasn't. The guilt that had been subdued by the conversations she'd had with Stefan and Caroline had come back in full force; first at hearing the principal speak about Tanner, and now at hearing her sister's sweet, worried voice. She smiled nonetheless and said, "I'm doing alright. Did you manage to survive without me last night?"
Elena sighed and brought her into a warm hug. "Just about." She pulled back, though her hands remained on her arms. "What happened with the tomb? I mean, I know you said that everything went fine, but…"
Angela gently shrugged her hands off, making her frown in concern. She didn't care. Her touch was suffocating. "We'll talk about it during lunch, with everyone else."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
No, she wasn't. She wasn't sure she'd ever be okay again. She breathed a laugh. "Yes, I am. I'm just a little tired. Promise. Now, tell me, is History gonna be a free period until they find a new teacher?"
Elena nodded. "They said it'll be a free period today, out of respect, but that a substitute will take over on Monday. Unless they find someone to replace him over the weekend."
Bonnie called her name, and she turned to see her trotting over to them. She looked bewildered. "Hey, is what Caroline said true? Did Damon do this?"
She had to keep herself from groaning. She'd forgotten that Bonnie didn't know. "Yeah. Happened right in front of me."
"Oh my God, and I'm just now finding out about it?"
"Honestly? I kind of just… didn't want to talk about it. Caroline and Tyler found out from their moms and Elena. Not from me."
Bonnie shot Elena a worried look that, for some reason, made her incredibly angry. Look at me instead. Ask me if I'm okay. I know you want to. Don't act like I'm not here. She straightened up and gave them what she hoped was a bright smile. "Since it's now a free period, I'm gonna go study for Chemistry, alright? See you later."
"Wait-" She didn't hear the rest of her sister's sentence, as she pushed through the doors and made a beeline for her locker. Her hands shook as she tried to get the combination right over and over again, and she nearly slammed a fist into it out of frustration.
"Angie." She turned her head to see that Elena had followed her. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
She shut her eyes and took a steadying breath. I need to calm down is what's going on. When she opened her eyes, she forced them to look kind. "Nothing's going on, Elena. I just need to be alone for a bit. Okay?"
That didn't seem to ease her worry. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"Okay then," some horrible, resentful part of her wanted to say. "Let me tell you everything. Let me tell you about how we're adopted, and how our birth father is that uncle we hate. Let me tell you about how you look exactly like Stefan and Damon's ex-girlfriend, who is also their psychotic sire and the reason they're here in the first place.
"Let me tell you about how you're the key to breaking a curse that was put on an original vampire and has all but driven him insane during the one thousand years he's been alive. Let me tell you about the fact that I know how to kill every single vampire on this earth and, if I really, truly wanted to, could have it done within the month. Let me tell you about-"
Elena's arms wrapping around her body broke her train of thought, and she realized she'd been crying. But then, the dam was broken, and there was nothing she could do to stop the tears from rushing down her cheeks. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was glad to have gotten to school so late. It meant that everyone had already grabbed their books and the hallways were barren.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed, though she had no idea what to apologize for first. "I'm so, so sorry."
She felt Elena shake her head against her shoulder. "You're human. You're allowed to break every now and then. Just promise me you won't push me away."
She nodded and squeezed her closer. "I promise."
She couldn't say exactly how long they stayed like that, but she quickly pulled back when she heard footsteps walking in their direction. It was a kid she believed to be a sophomore, and she turned her head away to wipe her eyes.
Elena huffed, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her into the girls' restroom. She pushed the stall doors open one by one until she was sure they were alone, and then turned back to her with a gentle, amused smile. "There. Now you can cry without ruining your Ice Princess reputation."
Angela laughed through the tears. She never meant to create that reputation for herself, and she personally found it to be quite ridiculous considering just how often she showed emotion, but she'd quickly found that her patience for most school children was all but non-existent.
"Thanks, twinny." She grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and cleared her nose. "Ugh, sorry for being gross."
Elena shook her head from where she was leaning against one of the sinks. "All I care about is if you feel better."
She took a deep breath, and smiled when it didn't feel like a weight was pressing down on her chest. "I do."
"Good. So," she scrunched her nose in playful disgust, "do you still wanna study for Chemistry?"
.
"What do you mean she collapsed?" Bonnie's hazel eyes were wide with fear.
Angela bit the inside of her cheek. "From what we could tell, she didn't sustain any injuries when she hit the ground. She only exhausted herself."
"Oh my God," she pushed herself off the picnic table, "I have to go see her."
"Hey, hey, hey." Tyler grabbed her wrist, effectively stopping her in her tracks. "School will be over in two hours. If a vampire as old as… Anna?" Angela nodded. "Says there's nothing wrong with her, I doubt you going over there right now will do anything."
Bonnie looked at him in utter disbelief. "And how do we know that a vampire, of all things, was telling the truth? She's my grandmother, Tyler. I can't just focus on schoolwork and pretend that everything's fine."
The news really must have shaken her, she thought, for her to refer to Sheila as her grandmother.
"She's right," said Caroline. "If something like that happened to my mom, I'd go home to her straight away."
He huffed. "You always take her side." Caroline shot him a look that made him grudgingly let go of their friend. "I'm just trying to be realistic here."
Bonnie smiled. "And that's one of my favorite things about you. But don't act like you wouldn't do the same thing."
"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Elena.
She shook her head. "No, it's fine. If I run into any issues, I'll call you. Promise." She shot them another smile, and they watched her walk away until she was out of sight.
Tyler blew a breath out his nose and looked at Angela. "So… you fought a ghost, huh? That's pretty badass."
She snorted. "Didn't feel too badass when she broke my back."
"Yeah, speaking of," Elena crossed her arms, "I hope you realize you won't be able to keep us out of the fray forever."
Caroline slapped the table, causing them all to look at her. "Yes! Thank you. I'm tired of feeling useless."
Angela frowned. "I never meant to make you feel that way."
"Well obviously, but you still did. At least let me meet Douchebag so I can slap him in the face."
"You, especially, are not going anywhere near Douchebag."
Tyler and Elena shared a confused glance, but it was her sister who spoke. "Douchebag?"
Angela rolled her eyes in amusement. "Damon."
Caroline nodded. "Dickhead also works."
Tyler's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wow. It takes a special breed of asshole to make you curse."
"He traumatized Angie," she said simply. "If that doesn't count as a special breed, I don't know what does."
His jaw ticked. "Don't remind me."
"He didn't traumatize me," said Angela, though it sounded hollow to her ears. "He just helped me realize what kind of world we live in. If he didn't, someone else would have."
"Are you serious?" Elena breathed. "As if you didn't already realize that when you found-" She cut herself off, but Angela knew what she was going to say.
"When I found Mom and Dad? I never would've had to find them if I didn't tell you about them in the first place. What happened to them was my fault, just like what happened to Tanner."
"That's bullshit."
She snapped her head towards Tyler. "Excuse me?"
He looked close to furious. "I said that's bullshit. And you know it. The only people who are at fault here are Damon and whoever killed your parents."
She shook her head. "You don't understand. Two times. Two times I tried to prevent death, and two times I made it worse than it would've been." Her eyes settled on her sister. "Mom and Dad would've died in a car accident, close to painlessly. Jeremy would still be able to speak. Tanner wouldn't have died so soon. And now, Sheila isn't dead but she might as well be, because Emily said there'd be consequences and she hasn't woken up yet and-"
Tyler jumped up and grabbed her by the shoulders so quickly she gasped. She suddenly became all too aware of how dark his hair was, and how olive-toned his skin was, and how hard his eyes had become, and she could have sworn she had legs just a second ago.
"Look at me. Look at me, and tell me that if I was saying the things you're saying right now, you'd think I was right. Tell me that you'd blame me if my parents died right this moment because I could've been there to protect them. Tell me that you wouldn't think of me as a victim. Tell me-"
She'd stopped listening. She'd stopped breathing. She'd stopped existing.
Stop touching me. Stop touching me, stop touching me, stop touching me, stop touching me, stop touching me, Damon, stop touching me, stop touching me, stop touching me, stop touching me, Damon, stop touching me, stop touching me, sto
"Angela."
Elena's voice brought her out of her stupor. She blinked, and found that there was nobody around but them.
There was something pressing against her back, and she whirled around to face it. She followed the brown bark up and up until she realized where they were: the oak tree behind the school.
"What…" Her voice was hoarse. "What just happened?"
The only other time she'd seen her sister so worried was right after she'd recovered from the shock in June. "You were having a panic attack."
"…Oh."
"Angie…" Elena bit her lip for a moment, as though debating something. "You don't have to tell me, but… what exactly did Damon do to you?"
Her throat closed up, and she found it to be ridiculous. He just threatened me a little. Killed someone he would've killed anyway. Why am I acting like this? Stefan's words from earlier came back to her: "Because you're a good person." Was this how good people reacted to things like this?
Elena's eyes widened for some reason and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. "Oh my God… Don't tell me he…?"
She furrowed her brows in confusion. "What?"
"You know… he didn't…" She swallowed and shot a pointed look towards her lower abdomen. "Did he?"
Angela felt her mouth drop in realization. "No! No, oh my God, no, of course not! Jesus Christ, Elena! No, he just… ugh, he has this thing for… wrapping a hand around my neck and threatening to kill me."
Elena gave a sigh so heavy with relief it threw her against the tree. "Oh, God, so that's what you meant by stop touching me." She brought a hand up to her heart and tried to catch her breath. "Oh my God." Laughter was bubbling inside of Angela, and she gave up on trying to hold it back. Elena smacked her arm, hard, with a teary-eyed glare. "It's not funny! Do you have any idea the things that just crossed my mind?"
"I know, I know, I'm not laughing because it's funny, I just-" She couldn't stop. "I don't know why I'm laughing, actually."
Elena just huffed and brought her in for another tight hug.
.
The motel looked different during the daytime.
Beneath the black night sky, its neon blue sign – which featured a horse blowing smoke from its nostrils – gave it an almost forbidden look. A look that made her want to go on a road trip with a stranger and end up there after a day of adventure. Beneath the sunlight, however, the American flag that stood beside it was the first thing that caught her eye. An older, portly, suited gentleman exited one of the rooms, hand-in-hand with who must have been his wife, and she thought that the whole scene was terribly suburban.
She knocked on the door labeled "14." It didn't take long for Anna to open it, and she greeted her with a nod. "Hey," she motioned for her to enter, "come on in."
Stepping inside, her eyes immediately found Harper, who was standing by what must have been the bathroom door. He looked much better than when she'd last seen him, and she didn't fail to notice just how well he was positioned to snap her neck in case she tried anything. He gave her a small, kind smile that she reciprocated, but it did little to ease her nerves.
Pearl was sitting on one of the beds, back straight and eyes set on her. "Welcome," she said, and motioned to the bed opposite her. "Please, sit."
She was a rather regal-looking woman when she wasn't half dead. With high cheekbones that Angela wagered could cut glass, a perfect posture, and movements that seemed to be controlled perfectly, the elegant clothing and updo she sported only served to heighten what already lay beneath the surface. It was certainly a contrast to how she had looked coming out of the tomb.
She sat down and smiled at her like she'd smiled at Harper. "Thank you. I'm glad to see you're feeling better."
Amusement flickered in her eyes. "I'm told I have you to thank for that." Her accent was odd. It really did sound like she was from a different time, and it made her afraid to use words that were too small and childish.
She glanced at Anna, who was standing to the side of her mother. "You have your daughter to thank for that. If she was a cruel person, I never would've offered to help."
Pearl turned to glance at her as well, and she saw a nearly imperceptible smile play at her lips. She schooled her features, however, and looked at her again. "I've heard an awfully curious tale about how you came to possess that bit of information."
"Assuming that tale involves reincarnation, it should be the same as the one I told."
"Indeed. But is it the truth?"
"As far as I understand, witches and warlocks can sense when a person has been reincarnated. Find one you trust and have them meet me, if you want."
Pearl tilted her head in assent. "That should be easy enough to do. But I speak more in regards to your claim that this," she motioned around them, "was once a story to you."
"Oh. That." She gave a tight smile. "That's not as easy to verify."
"You must realize how outlandish it sounds, surely?"
"Believe me, I know. It's been my reality for the past seventeen years. I'd allow you to compel me, but…" Her eyes flicked down to her left hand. "I'm afraid it wouldn't do too much."
"And why is that?"
She hesitated. Would it really be wise to tell her the truth? It wouldn't be much of an ace up her sleeve if she did. "I have no clue. It must be something to do with the fact that I've been reborn."
"Ah," she breathed, "that is a shame, isn't it? And convenient." She didn't know what to say to that. "Tell me," Pearl continued, "what was it you hoped to gain from freeing me? Our allegiance? A favor for a favor, as it were?"
Her hands began to grow clammy. Something in her tone made her all too aware of the fact that she was the only human among them. "What I hoped to gain was the knowledge that I prevented three pointless deaths. A mutually beneficial arrangement would be more than welcome, of course, but… I fully understand if you want to leave this town rather than open your apothecary back up."
For the first time since she'd stepped foot into the room, she saw Pearl's composure slip. Her eyes widened and her fingers twitched, but she looked to her daughter and gathered herself. Her lips parted in a silent laugh. "I suppose that solves our dilemma, then."
"What do you mean?"
"I've told no one of my desire to reclaim the apothecary. Yet you knew. How might you know then, I wonder, unless you are a witch?"
It worked. She'd had no idea if mentioning the apothecary would do the trick. She'd had no idea if the thought had even crossed Pearl's mind yet. "Because I'm telling you the truth."
"We'll see. When I find a magic user, I'll know if you are one as well. Until then, enlighten me: what does this mutually beneficial agreement of yours entail?"
"Put simply? I want to help you integrate with the rest of the town. I want to help you infiltrate the secret council and learn the things they do differently. I want them to grow to see you as trusted, valuable members of the community and prevent you from becoming suspect."
"And in return?"
"In return… I would like one blood bag filled with your blood, every month. Which one of you fills it doesn't matter to me. You can even take turns if you'd like." She shrugged. "That's all I want from you."
That wasn't strictly speaking true. She wanted an alliance; a proper, full-fledged alliance, where she knew that her people and Pearl's people could count on each other in case anything ever happened. But something about Pearl's disposition told her that asking for one, so early in their relationship, would displease her greatly.
"Blood is valuable in this world. Why would I trust mine to a girl I just met?"
"Because if I wanted it for malicious reasons, I would've taken it by force." She heard Harper shift and added, "But I haven't. And I won't. Because the reason I want your blood isn't malicious. It isn't any reason that should cause you any concern. It's only so I have a safety net."
"And what manner of… safety net would our blood offer you?"
She smiled then, and she knew that it was cold as snow. "I've cheated death once before. I'm more than willing to do it again."
Contrary to what you might think, I don't hate Damon at all. But he was a total ass early on in the series, and I wanted to accurately portray that.