A/N: I've changed things a little for this one. Firstly they're all human, alternate universe etc. Jeremy's two years older than Elena. Katherine's her cousin and John's daughter. Think that's everything…hope you enjoy it

Also I made a mistake and changed the ages/times of the story a little (this was after I'd finished the seventh chapter) so basically if there are any continuity errors or anything…I apologize, I tried my best to fix them all. Elena is now 25 and Damon's 27.

Listen to Bastille – Bad Blood…where the name and the idea comes from…amazing song, amazing band…give them a listen.

Bad Blood – Chapter One

You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of

Katherine Marie Petrova

Stefan Alberto Salvatore

On Friday, June the 3rd

At four o'clock

Seventy-four, Park Avenue, Mystic Falls

Followed by a reception

The thick, cream coloured card gave off the distinct aroma of roses. Combine it with the neat, curly typed handwriting the whole thing was perfectly cliché. Katherine was all about the traditional white wedding; no doubt she'd have a long train on her dress and 'something old, something blue and something borrowed.'

Katherine Petrova was my cousin, daughter to Uncle John who, I must admit, I hated with a passion. The man was an irritating, short-fused control freak who occasionally believed he was my father and could tell me what to do. His brother, Grayson, my father, together with my mother Miranda, had been killed in a car crash when Jeremy and I were younger. Being only five at the time I hardly remembered them but Jeremy would never let me forget; he'd been seven. After that our aunt Jenna, only 26, had moved in with us and become our legal guardian. Being so young she wasn't exactly on top of everything all the time…enter John and his unimpressed looks. At least we had fun.

Now Stefan was always one of my good friends since prep school. I have to admit I'd never seen him and Katherine together but since it happened I couldn't not admit that they were perfect for each other; the perfect balance of two polar opposites. In high school Katherine had been head cheerleader, prom queen…you know the type. Stefan had worked, stayed at home to study apart from when we dragged him out. He'd always loved Katherine so I guess when she talked to him he probably passed out…they really were quite cute. He made her nervous…I mean really. While I admit that Stefan is one of my closest friends (and ironically first boyfriend), and everyone (before Katherine) thought we'd end up together, it actually turned out to be his older brother, Damon…well, for a while at least.

I had hated him…and I mean truly despised Damon Salvatore since the moment I met him, aged 7, two years younger than him. It started when he chopped the head off my most prized Barbie doll, then he'd pushed me ridiculously high on the swing in the park, put a massive spider in my bed, 'accidentally' dropped paint all over me…you get the picture. He was the first boy to ever make me cry before I'd sucked up and started playing back. Over the following years he'd found a grass snake in his bed (paybacks a bitch), custard in his favourite shoes, toothpaste replaced with Savlon, beetroot juice when he asked for Ribena…you get the idea. It was always a mutual but slightly well-spirited hatred. I would adamantly tell everyone I hated him and he'd respond in kind.

When we got to high school though, the casual jibes became a little harsher, deeper…the pranks became slightly more serious. He got me a month of detention, I got him suspended. He spread a rumour…I did the same. Already bad, as we moved up the years they just became worse and worse until, not that I'd ever admit it to anyone, they actually hurt a little bit. The teachers already had us marked as the 'trouble' students. By the time he was in Senior Year it was more a one-sided thing. I'd almost had enough and my returns were weakening a little. I'd hacked his Facebook, filled his school bag with tampons so they all fell out over the canteen floor at lunch (his face), put Viagra in his drink without him knowing at break once, then left the box in plain sight, followed by spreading the rumour of his 'little problem'. If he wasn't a womanizer he was nothing so that was harsh for him.

It went on, but when the peak came it went way beyond what I'd expected. I knew this whole time we were working up and up, every time going one step further, but then he took it so far. It was at a house party on Halloween, almost at midnight. I had no evidence that I was him that spiked my drink but I assumed it was. I think he just expected me to go a little crazy, embarrass myself a little…that's what he told me after. When I'd disappeared from the main party for a while he came to find me. I guess when he found me unconscious on a bed upstairs with Peter Crawley on top of me everything had changed. The next time Peter was at school his nose was broken, a few ribs…two massive shiners…he deserved it. I don't actually remember most about the night apart from Damon taking me back to his house and putting me down on his bed. Half- conscious, I could hear him saying sorry, over and over…

He was there when I woke up, passing me a steaming hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream, the morning-after pill sitting on the side table. I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry…I don't think I'd ever cried so much in my life. He did too…I'd never seen any boy cry before. Maybe I should have blamed him…any normal person would have; but I just couldn't. Instead I'd swallowed the pills and silently set about bandaging up his bloody hands. We hardly talked, apart from quiet apologies on his part. I borrowed one of his shirts since mine was ripped and had drinks all down it. I gave him one last hug before leaving, not having said a word.

Three years later Peter Crawley would be arrested and sentenced to 10 years in prison for armed robbery and GBH but I hadn't pressed charges for whatever reasons, I guess I was embarrassed. I didn't even tell my family. There was more guilt on my shoulders but the man was okay. The night after I heard the doorbell go; Jenna was out but I left Jeremy to answer it, having buried myself in my duvet with my iPod playing on the speakers. I wouldn't be human if I was okay.

Flashback:

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and I sighed, calling whoever it was to enter. The side of the bed dipped down and I felt someone pulling the duvet away from my face. I froze when I saw who it was, a sober look on his face. Blinking, I pushed my hair out of my face and slowly pushed myself to sit up, "Hey…"

"Hi…" he replied, almost nervously, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay…"

I nodded, "I'm not." I said simply, because it was the truth and I didn't want to lie to him. The way he winced made me feel slightly bad about that, "I will be." More silence, "Thank you…for coming to find me."

At that his brow furrowed and he looked away, "I was too late though wasn't I. And you shouldn't be thanking me; it was my fault in the first place."

"It doesn't matter you stopped him. So thank you for that." We fell into silence again before I let out a sigh, playing with the duvet cover in my lap and hesitating before speaking, "Do you think…" I stopped, and then started again, feeling his curious gaze on my face, "Do you think we could stop this now? The pranks…I don't think I can deal with any more…"

I refused to look at his face but then his hand was covering mine and on reflex I looked up, seeing the pain in his blue eyes, "Yes…of course. I'm so sorry Lena…I'm so, so sorry."

End of Flashback

Would you believe that give it two months and we were going out. I'd always seen him as the epitome of a jackass but after the Halloween party he'd changed…noticeably. For the following weeks when I wouldn't leave the house he came round every day, making me hot chocolate every time I felt slightly down, cheering me up and just making sure I wasn't alone. I didn't really understand why, Jeremy was completely confused; Jenna was shocked and bemused…my friends Caroline and Bonnie were simply gobsmacked. But I was happy when he was around…I don't know why.

Damon and I were together for four years after that. We made a success of a long-distance relationship when he went off to Harvard to do Medicine; insanely clever with dreams of becoming a heart surgeon. But good things don't last forever. I was twenty, him twenty two…it was around about spring time and I got a call from his best friend at Harvard, Jamie, saying that I needed to come pick him up from a club since he had to leave and Damon was wasted. They'd come back to Mystic Falls for a half term at the same time I had and I couldn't have been more excited. I was always happier when he was there. When he'd met me at the airport it had been like one of those cliché rom-coms where he ran over and spun me round, planting a massive kiss on my lips to make the elderly couple nearby shake their heads. He'd whispered those three beautiful words that had taken so long for us to reach in my ear and I returned them with a kiss. I'd always remember the little things like that because it meant so much.

The club in question was one of the biggest in town and most famous for its slaggy girls. I remember the boys in my year always going on about 'some chick' they picked up there…nicknamed the Mystic Brothel by a huge number. When Damon had told me Jamie insisted on going there I just laughed and told him to behave with a laugh. He'd rolled his eyes and kissed my cheek, telling me earnestly that he'd never even look at another girl and Jamie had agreed, saying he was just the worst wingman. So I guess that was why I wasn't nervous. I'd had friends who catch their boyfriends cheating in places like this but Damon wasn't like that.

I didn't find him outside or inside by the bar, on the dance floor nor in any of the booths. Confusion growing, I did another round before thinking that maybe he was in the toilet. I didn't make a point of going into men's toilets but this wasn't a first. I'd barely opened the door before I heard the familiar moaning of someone having sex. Typical club; skanks fucking each other in every dark spot. I don't know what made me look at who it was…I was just going to go out and look somewhere else, but then I caught a glimpse of that familiar raven hair standing by the sinks and I couldn't hold back the gasp of shock and horror. His eyes were drooping closed but the dark circles under them instantly told me how drunk he was. My eyes travelled down to the dirty blonde kneeling in front of him. My eyes were blurring as I took a blind step back, hitting the metal bin and it crashed against the wall. The noise was enough for his eyes to snap open, blood shot and hazy. It took him a second to piece together the situation but I'd gone before he'd even been able to call my name.

He'd chased after me and arrived at my house ten minutes or so after me, hammering persistently on the door until Jenna told him to go away. By the time I woke up in the morning my mailbox was full and I had 60 missed calls from him. I guess I'd been in shock, because after all these years and all the drama we'd been through, all the promises…I find him cheating in a grotty club toilet. If I'd been a little more reasonable, I may have realised that he'd been blind drunk at the time and should have given him the opportunity to explain. By the time I realised that it was a year later and I was in New York. A snap decision had found me on the plane the next afternoon. I regretted it…hell I regretted leaving and not letting him explain but now it was too late. He'd hurt me…he'd really hurt me, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I didn't go on dates or see people at all anymore because I couldn't move on but I couldn't forget.

I'd been back to Mystic Falls, obviously…I'd just always timed my visits to when he wasn't there because I was me and I was pathetic and I was scared of confrontation. This wedding though? How could I avoid him? Katherine had already given me the post of maid of honour and, him being Stefan's brother, would undoubtedly by best man. So what was I to do? All my friends and family were telling me that it had been three years and I needed to forgive him, and I was ready to I think…but as I said, that meant confronting that I was wrong to leave and the fact that he'd be equally annoyed at me and…and it just wouldn't be easy, that's all. But maybe it was time to suck it up and get over myself. Because let's face it, no matter what's happened in the past, he was the best thing for me and without him nothing was the same.

So what did you think? Please review and let me know