A/N: Hey, so like a lot of us, the pandemic upset things in my life a bit that in turn upset what little writing and posting I was getting done, and then I just got away from it. This chapter has been written for a while, but I just never got around to editing and posting it. I have yet to write anything new for this story, but I've been thinking both about this and You Become a lot lately and wanted to revisit it. Posting this chapter in hopes that it keeps spurring me onward even if many of you have long moved on. I want to get back into writing and I want to finish what I started with these two stories so that I can start fresh with something new, because I can't seem to leave them behind. I know better than to make promises for more chapters going forward, but please let me know if you enjoy this chapter and this story as it exists now. I could use the encouragement. Thank you for reading.

I've been upside down,

I don't wanna be the right way round

Can't find paradise on the ground

All we do is hide away,

All we do, all we do is hide away

All we do is chase the day

- Oh Wonder

When I cross the threshold into the large dine-in area of the Salvatore house's kitchen from the formal dining room the early morning sun is pouring in through the row of east facing windows to set the idyllic scene of a family—even if it's a semi-dysfunctional patchwork one—eating breakfast aglow. A pang in my chest stops me a moment in the doorway before anyone notices my arrival. It's the memory of mornings not unlike this one of just the four of us, Caroline and our daughters, together under one roof. Ours had been the picture of a family in every way I had imagined and yearned for one, a mother, a father, children, a unit. Of course, there was also the absence of the children's dead biological mother, the children's status as siphon witches, the surrogate mother's unaging eternity as a vampire ahead of us, the heartbroken mother's vampire ex-boyfriend on the run with another girl, and the partnership between the mother and father I convinced myself had to be something more to complete the perfect picture of family I'd been repeatedly denied by fate.

And yet, looking in on this morning, that illusive thing I've chased so hard for so long, that undeniable sense of family, relaxes here at ease. At home in a strange habitat of even stranger characters, it surrounds everyone in a natural state of comfort and love. Lizzie and their mother sandwich Josie between them on one bench with their backs to me. Lizzie's ankles are crossed and swinging from where she sits too high to touch the ground, always in motion. Josie leans her head softly against her mother's side as she juggles a few pieces of untouched fruit from the basket in the middle of the table with her mind. Bonnie winks at her from her seat on the opposite bench behind her newspaper crossword, worrying the end of a ballpoint pen with her teeth. Caroline's arm glows a gentle red where Josie's cheek presses into her, but it doesn't seem to cause her pain as Caroline absentmindedly strokes our daughter's hair and chats with Elena across their breakfast. Even Damon, apart from them all in the kitchen proper with spatula in hand behind the island griddle and garbed in a oversized plaid button up and punny apron, plays an integral role. The meal he's made for all of them rests on plates and platters throughout the sunlit room in various states of consumption. The piece of bacon Bonnie casually munches in between scribbling letters into small newsprint boxes. The warm bowl of oatmeal topped with fruit made especially for Elena despite the fact that everyone else usually just tucks into enormous quantities of eggs, bacon, and toast. The almost entirely devoured pancakes my picky four year olds beg for every morning because they come out in increasingly more elaborate and colorful designs. Today, it appears to be tigers and elephants.

It's messy and far from perfect. Caroline's eyes are noticeably red and puffed, but she's nothing short of radiant lit up from without by the soft morning light and from within by our daughters' affections. And today, she's here. The uncertainty of their situation stirred up a handful of disastrous mood swings and tantrums among the girls, but with the loving attention of everyone here and Bonnie's patient instruction, they've settled. Everyone dances carefully around Damon and Elena's constant unresolved tension, but there's no denying their quiet but deep devotion to one another. My gut twists in a too familiar cocktail of guilt and jealousy as I must acknowledge how well Damon has kept his shit together without Stefan, how humanity has softened him into a man I always knew he was capable of being. Jealousy, because it's supposed to be me with my shit together flipping pancakes for my kids, and guilt because I gave up waiting for him to become this man too soon. I don't think there's any getting our friendship back to what it was. In spite of the flaws, all the painful invisible scars and wounds everyone is nursing, they fit, content and together in this moment. A family. A home. Real. Unforced. Without me.

Damon crosses the kitchen with one of his arms lined with plated stacks of pancakes, one of which is adorned with a smiling fanged face made out of blueberries and whipped cream. He refills the mug to Elena's right from a carafe of hot French pressed coffee, giving her a lingering kiss on the cheek before setting down the carafe in the middle of the table and distributing the plates.

"Flapjacks, Ric?" he asks without glancing my way, but as though he's known I was standing here this entire time.

"Hmm?" It takes me a moment to register the question while still processing that he's seen me here. "Oh, uh sure." It's usually just a gallon of coffee and a mountain of eggs piled on toast for me on mornings like this, to settle my stomach after an evening of working into the night, capped with more than one tumbler of bourbon to help me sleep. But I'm caught off guard and saying no seems rude somehow. Damon drops the last plate of pancakes by a plate on the other side of Lizzie already laden with none other than my regular toast and fried egg summit. He picks up the coffee carafe from the center of the table again while flipping the mug sitting upturned at my place setting upright and filling it with steaming liquid caffeine. When the fuck did Damon Salvatore become some super uncle/boyfriend/short order cook?

Damon seats himself quietly on Elena's left on the end of the bench in front of nothing but a solitary mug of coffee, the farthest possible seat from where he's set my place. He snakes one arm around Elena's waist as she leans into him almost as an afterthought, and curves his other hand around the mug through the handle as if he's relishing it's warmth. The girls are already twisting in their seats to get a look at me, gleeful screeches of "Daddy!" following shortly. Lizzie tries desperately to pull her legs from the inside of the bench to the outside in order to jump down and rush to greet me, but the pear Josie was levitating crashes down to the table after it's puppeteer is startled apart from the magic source in her mother, right into Lizzie's half empty glass of orange juice. The juice splashes all over the back of Lizzie's white and blue Princess Elsa pajamas and long blond hair. Her little body and face freezes in a posture and expression of cold shock. I can't help but grin.

Caroline yelps a startled squeak as she quickly turns up the now empty glass. She starts to move to get up, but Damon stays her with the a touch of the hand and pulls out a dishtowel from where it's tucked into the waistband of his apron. He leans forward pulling apart from Elena who is now silently giggling, but the towel floats from his outstretched hand and he settles back into his seat as Bonnie takes it from there. It pats the back of Lizzie's head as dry as possible as she screeches, "Josie!" with a disgruntled face. The towel moves on to the bench and table absorbing more than any mundane, unenchanted towel would be capable of.

"Sorry, Lizzie," Josie whispers as she curls into her mother's side and Caroline pulls her in for a hug with a laugh. I had braced myself for a retaliation, which is usually more likely from Lizzie than her sister, but I seem to be enough of a draw to distract her as Lizzie finishes jumping to the floor and meets me halfway to the table with a tight hug around the thigh. I chuckle, accepting her affection with a hand pressed to the back of her head before I remember the juice. It's no matter anyway, because that rag was a little more magical than I had thought and Lizzie's hair and back are completely dry and juice free. I look up at Bonnie with a bit of surprise. That trick sure would've been handy in a house full of toddlers for the last couple of years. Bonnie smiles at me, pleased with herself as the towel rings itself, completely dry I'm sure, back into the upturned glass. I smile back before looking at the pristine glass of orange juice with a crinkle of the nose. Not sure I'd give that a drink, no matter how normal it looks.

"Daddy, Daddy!" Lizzie calls my attention back to her. I lean down to accept a proper hug before she pulls away to start bouncing excitedly.

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"Uncle Damon and Princess Elena promised to take us to the zoo today! But now everyone's coming, Aunt Bonnie and Mommy too!" I look up to confer in silent parent speak with Caroline, but she's looking away from me, at Damon I think who is staring rather deeply into his mug of coffee. I look back at Lizzie, who is now frowning as if she's just realized something. "You don't have to work today, do you, Daddy?"

My chest squeezes tight again as I realize that everyone planned their day today as if I weren't going to be here. But I have no one to blame but myself. It's been the norm for weeks now as I worked late into the night, days at a time, to be able to properly put the Armory behind all of us and used every spare second to reach out to contacts about the viability of my idea for a school for vulnerable supernatural children. Children like mine. I've taken days off, but they've been spontaneous, and I haven't exactly been the best about communicating my unreliable schedule. Everyone just adapted to it, accepting, like we've all done for each other, our strange new normal. No one but Damon, as of early this morning when I came downstairs for a bit of hair of the dog with my early coffee and aspirin, knew that last night I wrapped on the Armory. So why does my stomach clench at the knowledge that my daughter has come to expect my absence?

I push my smile as wide as I can manage. "Nope, not today. Daddy is done with work for a little while." Lizzie's face lights up.

"You can come too?"

"Yep, I'm all yours."

She sprints the short distance back to her mother and tugs on Caroline's blouse as I stand upright.

"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy's coming! I can show him the lemurs too!"

"I know, baby. I heard." Caroline smiles over at me as I slide into my seat at the table. Fuck, she's beautiful. My chest swells full with pride, but I hold my breath as I temper it back down before it leads to feelings I'm not allowed to have anymore. Feelings I was never really allowed to have in the first place. Caroline looks back down at Lizzie, petting down the hair on the back of her head. "Have you finished eating your breakfast?"

Lizzie shakes her head back and forth. "I couldn't possibly eat another bite, I'm too excited." She starts bouncing in place again.

Caroline chuckles, placing her hands on Lizzie's shoulders to still her and leaning over to plant a kiss on her head. "Now, don't get ahead of yourself, princess. The rest of us still have to finish our food. But if you're done, you can run up to your room and pick out something to wear."

Josie looks up at Caroline, still seated tucked into her side. "I'm done eating too, Mommy."

Bonnie sets her fork down on a nearly clean plate, her half finished crossword already tucked under it, and starts to rise from her seat. "I'm done, I'll take them both to get dressed while you finish up." She smiles at Caroline before meeting the girls at the end of the table.

"C'mon little monsters." Bonnie laughs. They both grab onto one of her arms with a squeal of delight and lead her from the room, Lizzie practically skipping.

I quietly tuck into the food in front of me, swallowing with a bit of difficulty against the thickness of my throat. With the girls gone, an awkward quiet settles over the table. I'm forced to settle in with my shame at not arriving to breakfast earlier. Those emails could've waited. No one excluded me from being apart of the chaotic and picturesque scene of family I walked in on. Even Damon with whom I've barely been able to exchange more than two words at a time defers to me with the kids whenever possible, sets my place at every meal whether or not I make it. I've been so focused on making a safe place in the world for my girls and our family, that I've been neglecting my place in their lives.

I should've been here.

I scald the roof of my mouth on my coffee trying to rush through my food without appearing to rush. I bite back the curse that would be way too audible amongst the quiet and start quickly back in on my food despite the slight discomfort. Caroline is nearly done and has since ended whatever conversation she was having with Elena whose attention has turned intimately to Damon. The prospect of Caroline finishing and leaving me here in the quiet with them is not quite bearable. Jealousy and guilt again.

Part of me aches for the lost relationship with both of them. For the companionship and camaraderie with Damon that has evaporated into careful avoidance. For the admiration and trust from Elena that has transformed into growing disdain and confusion. But I fear something irreparable has snapped there. Hurt needles my whole body at watching the opportunity for a clean slate and happiness they've been given and how much it makes me miss Jo. Aftershocks of fear and panic still haunt my dreams of the girls taken from me and the part Damon played in all of that. My disgusting reaction and treatment of Caroline during their kidnapping, my body full and trembling with hatred as I killed him while he was still under the thrall of that siren, all of it has pushed us farther and farther apart.

I'm nearly done with my food now as Elena starts to make a fuss over Damon I pretend not to notice. He had removed his right hand from her back to reach for the coffee and refill his mug when Elena noticed the medical tape wrapped around three of his fingers. She now cradles his hand in front of her trying to assess whatever injury the bandages conceal. Damon attempts to tug his arm back away from her with little success as her eyebrows knit together with concern.

"What did you do to your hand?!" she demands with little regard for volume.

Damon's cheeks flush as he furtively glances at Caroline and briefly at me before muttering something I can't quite hear about potholders.

"Again, Damon?" Elena scolds. "You have to be more careful, you can't just—" Elena seems to notice Damon's discomfort at having an audience and trails off as Damon finally tugs his arm back and starts to climb out of the table.

Elena seems chafed at his readiness to leave, so he leans back down to kiss her temple. "Don't worry. Bonnie whipped up some foul smelling ointment with those herbs of hers and patched me right up, brand new." Elena scowls as he turns to address us all. "I've got a bit of packing I need to finish up, so you guys have a good time. Don't worry about the dishes. I'll get around to them when I finish up." Elena's frown deepens as he makes to leave. She reaches out to grab his hand, but immediately releases it when she sees him wince from the burns on his fingers.

"Wait, you're not coming? This whole trip was your idea."

"I just figured the munchkins could use a day out of the house. Mission accomplished." He half smirks with a gesture to everyone in the room.

"You promised the girls." Elena continues to insist, but the deep disappointment in her face tells me her protests are less for the girls' sake.

"They've got everyone they need. Don't worry, they won't miss me." He glances at me but sees me looking and we both quickly look somewhere else.

"Damon it can wait, you don't have t—" Caroline starts. She's looking at him with her brow creased, her lips slightly parted.

He shakes his head, dismissing whatever she was struggling to say. "It's alright, Care." He tucks a piece of hair behind Elena's ear and squeezes her shoulder. "Have a good time," he says a little quieter, just for her. He turns and leaves through the swinging door, calling behind him, "Don't forget quarters, Josie wants to feed the giraffes."

Elena huffs in a clear display of anger meant to be heard and seen. And I doubt Caroline is the intended audience.

She picks up her used dishes and Damon's empty mug, dispelling all of my doubt with the glare she sends my way as she extracts her legs from the table. She rinses her dishes and deposits them in the sink with a loud clamor. I cringe against the sound. She leaves through the opposite door.

Caroline sighs deeply and I turn towards her, but she only says, "I'll run to the bank real quick. Oh, and the pharmacy. We're out of sunscreen," and picks up her own dishes, rinses and leaves them in the sink with much less of a commotion.

She leaves me alone at the table in the silent, massive, glowing kitchen.

I take a last swallow of coffee, blow out a deep breath, prop my elbows on the table, and bury my face in my hands.