Merry Christmas! Or whichever holiday you celebrate. And if you don't celebrate any holiday, I hope you at least got time off of work/school. I, on the other hand, have four essays to write and kinda want to die. Wish me patience lol.
Oh, also, just to clarify something about the pairing in case anyone was confused. Angela isn't going to be in a separate relationship with Stefan and a separate relationship with Rebekah. All three of them are going to be in a relationship together. That means Stef x Bekah too.
CHAPTER 9
I DID IT FOR JEREMY
.
Her brother was taking the whole 'doctor' thing very seriously, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.
Of course, she was glad that he found something productive to pour his energy into, but with how fervent he'd become in achieving his goal, she was beginning to suspect he was using it as an unhealthy coping mechanism. More and more frequently, whenever she woke up and went to check on him, he would be sleeping at his desk with a textbook for a pillow and his bed still made from the night before.
Were he a naturally studious kid, she wouldn't find his behavior too odd, but this was the same kid that so often came to her and Elena, freaking out and begging for their help in doing his homework the night before it was due. The same kid that faked illness for an entire week so he could stay home and play Super Mario Galaxy. That 'accidentally' broke his messy, half-finished science project. Jeremy was smart, but he wasn't the type of smart that enjoyed studying.
So when she went to wake him after cooking breakfast and found him sound asleep at his desk, she couldn't help but worry.
"Hey." She rubbed his shoulder. "Jeremy." He let out a whine, but didn't move an inch. "Wake up, buddy. You need to get ready for school." A different whine, but a whine nonetheless. "Breakfast is ready." He simply buried his head further into his arms, and she knew that she was right to worry. A glance at the textbook beneath his arms—the familiar-looking textbook—told her he was studying anatomy. "Did you steal that from me?"
He sluggishly lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry."
"Hey, it's not like I'm using it." His bed was still made. "What time did you fall asleep?"
"Four."
She had to mentally replay what he said in order to understand it. "What?"
"I meant ten."
"Jeremy! Have you been falling asleep that late every night?" All he did was look away. That was answer enough. "You and I are having a serious talk after school."
His face crumpled. "Do we have to?"
She opened her mouth to say, "Yes," but hesitated. Unhealthy coping mechanism or no, he arguably had it worse than any of them, and here she was, yelling at him for how he dealt with it. She shut her mouth. What would her mother do? She always knew what to say. How to fix things. Would she let him off the hook or be stern? She had no idea. Maybe something in the middle would be preferable.
"Yes," she said, in a tone much kinder than before. "We have to." She ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm worried about you." When she went to pull her hand back, he held it in place.
"I'm worried about you too. You're always gone. All we do is study sign language." His hand movements were slow and clunky, but she felt proud of him for saying all that.
"Yeah… you're right. I miss you. We'll find something fun to do, okay?" He nodded. "Okay. Now, seriously." She pushed his head away. "Go get dressed. I made blueberry pancakes." He shot out of his chair, and she couldn't help but smile. In a world so uncertain, it was good to know that some things never changed. Her smile dropped, however, when she remembered what Sara Thompson said the other day. She hadn't been able to get it out of her head, the word she used to describe her brother, and it filled her with a rage that made her want to destroy the girl. She'd thought of many ways to do so, but crossed out the more extreme options. She wanted to torture her into repentance, not death.
The plan she came up with consisted of two parts. One handled by her, and the other handled by Caroline. But for her to complete her part of the plan, first she had to sing. She left Jeremy's room and headed to the backyard. Anna had already fed her her blood and left, so she didn't have to worry about embarrassing herself too much.
She learned at a very young age what her mother's favorite song was. Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers. She would sing it often, either to get her to sleep or when she was in a particularly good mood, and Angela figured that in order to sing again she should start with something familiar.
There was a lump in her throat, but some breathing exercises should drive it away. That's what they did when her mother was still alive. She opened her mouth to sing, and cringed when her voice came out a croak. Come on. You can do this. But her next try was equally as unsuccessful, and the lump was still there.
She squeezed her eyes shut to make herself focus, but all it did was make her see her mother. How could she defend Jeremy when she failed so miserably at defending her? Her and her father, who was good to them despite being half a monster.
"Angie?" She turned around to find Jenna poking her head out the back door. "Aren't you going to eat?"
"Oh… yeah. I'll be right there."
Maybe Caroline could help, she thought as she went back inside. They sang together often, before the murder. The familiarity of the situation might just be enough for her to do it again.
.
"You want to sing?" Caroline looked completely befuddled as they walked to their lockers.
"Why not?"
"Um… I don't know. Maybe because last time I asked, you broke down."
She rolled her eyes. "I did not 'break down.' I just… cried a little."
Caroline shot her a look. "A little."
It would be a waste of time to argue semantics. "That was in the past. This is in the present, and present me is asking you to sing with her. What do you say?"
They reached their lockers, and Caroline turned to scrutinize her. She was clearly hesitant to say yes, but did so anyway. "Fine. Let's go to the music room. But if you tell me it's useless, I'm flicking your forehead."
"I won't." She smiled. "Promise."
.
"This is useless."
Caroline rolled her eyes and reached over to flick her forehead. "No, it's not. You're just letting your mind get the best of you."
She dropped into a blue, plastic chair with a sigh. "You're right, I'm sorry. Let me get over my mom's murder real quick."
"Hey, I'm trying to help here."
"I know." She offered a smile despite her frustration. "I know, and thank you. I just don't know if I can do this. Not yet. But I have to."
"Why? Why is this such a big deal all of a sudden?"
That word came back to her, and made her grip the edge of her seat. "Sara Thompson said something the other day. Made me want to destroy her. Musical theater's the thing she cares about most, so if I want to hit her hard, that's where I need to aim. But in order to do that, I need to sing."
"I thought you didn't believe in vengeance."
"I do when it comes to family."
Caroline raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What did she say exactly?"
A glance at the window in the door failed to show anyone that might overhear. "She called Jeremy—" Something she never wanted to hear again. Not even from herself. But Caroline would be able to help if she knew, so she pushed herself off the chair and whispered it in her ear.
When she pulled back, she saw that her mouth had dropped open. "What?"
"You heard me."
Her face contorted in fury. "Oh, she is so dead."
Was hoping you'd say that. She knew her smile was wicked. "Anything you can do without making it an all-out war?"
"What, between our group and hers? Do you honestly think Tiki would want to be friends with her if she heard what she said? She's a bitch, not heartless."
"Hm… could make that the final blow. Losing her friend group."
"Please." Caroline scoffed. "We can do worse than that, can't we?"
Of course they could. "Public humiliation and expulsion. If I get her to say it again while secretly recording her, I can show it to the entire school, but I'm worried that'll make her do something drastic. I want to torture her into a genuine apology, not… you know."
Not that she hadn't wanted to torture her into you know at first, but it was as she always told Tyler. So long as you can help it, never make a decision when you're angry. You'll regret it afterwards. 'Do as I say, not as I do' can only be uttered so many times before people label you a hypocrite.
Caroline let out a moan of displeasure. "Fine… So, what sounds better? Cheater with STDs or money-stealing junkie?"
"Definitely cheater." It paid to be sisters with the queen bee.
.
She approached Bonnie after school one day before she could leave the grounds to ask if she wanted to join her in a visit to the hospital. She touched her uncovered shoulder and was just about to say hi when Bonnie startled with a gasp and turned around.
"U-uh," Angela stammered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare—"
"Do that again."
"What?"
"That." Bonnie's eyes were wide as they looked at the hand that touched her. "Do it again."
Maybe it was the fact that the request was so unordinary or that ever since Anna's advice she'd felt herself becoming more and more paranoid, but she felt the need to look around in case someone was watching. "Okay…" She raised her hand and rested it on Bonnie's shoulder.
Something in her hazel eyes changed, and she drew a shaky breath. "Oh my God… I can see you."
A chill ran down her spine. "Because that's not unsettling or anything."
She ignored her. "Grams always said she could see your soul, but I never thought it'd look like this. I never thought it'd look like a woman."
"Wait. You mean you can finally sense what I am?"
"Yeah. I can. I have no idea how, but I can." Angela felt her begin to tremble beneath her palm, though she didn't know if it was from fear or excitement. "This is insane," she whispered. "Oh my God, this is insane."
"Bonnie! It's amazing is what it is. You'll be lighting candles and helping your grams in no time."
It clicked for Bonnie as well, and she gave an astonished grin. "Oh my God! Thank you! Thank you for touching me out of nowhere! Uh, maybe don't take that out of context."
She couldn't help but smile. "I won't."
"Why did you touch me anyway?"
"I was going to visit Ms. Sheila. Thought maybe you'd want to tag along."
Bonnie didn't seem to be expecting that, but her smile didn't dim at all. "Oh, yeah, sure. I wasn't planning on visiting her until later, but it'd be nice to have some company."
"Your car? Lena can drive herself home."
"Perfect."
Bonnie was still beaming when they got to the hospital, and talking the way she did when she was excited. Constantly, and with her hands. Word vomit, Caroline called it, but Angela called it happiness. And because Bonnie was one of the people she loved the most, it only made sense that she loved her happiness too.
The sight of Sheila Bennett in a hospital bed, unmoving and unable to do anything, was still utterly bizarre, though she had visited her quite a few times by now. This time was different though, because this time she'd come on a mission.
Bonnie must have been on a mission too, since she was fluttering around the room in search for something. "They don't have any candles here, do they?"
"Doubt it." She moved to Sheila's side. "Wouldn't risk setting fire to the patients."
There was a snort. "Thanks for that mental image."
"You're welcome," she said absently, and slipped her hand beneath Sheila's. Her mother was gone. Her real mother, the one that raised her and loved her and called her her little angel, but the mother figure in front of her was still alive.
Sheila had been suspicious of her in the beginning, when she was still a toddler. She could tell. Her gaze would linger, even more so when she was spending time with Bonnie. Her eyes, so much like a hawk's, would scarcely leave her for fear of missing something. For fear of letting her hurt someone.
It was only when Angela saved a five-year-old Bonnie from falling down a tree and breaking her neck that her attitude began to shift, slowly realizing that all she truly wanted was to keep the children safe. They had been much alike in that aspect, and because of it forged an alliance. An alliance that over the years became true friendship, even if Sheila still found fun in treating her like a child.
Her presence was familiar. Comforting. Mother-like, even if she wasn't her real mother. She hoped it would be enough to break through the barrier that prevented her singing.
Bonnie sighed from across the room. "I'm going to go see if they have any candles. Think I'll burst into flames myself if I don't."
"Alright. I'll be here."
The door opened and closed. She looked back. Bonnie was gone. Now was the perfect time. She shut her eyes and recited the lyrics in her mind. Heard the instruments beneath her and her mother's voices. Faint, but there.
She tried humming it this time, figuring it would be easier than singing. It got her halfway through the first verse before her voice gave out and her chest felt too tight to continue. You can do this. I know you can do this. For Jeremy. That thought got her through the rest of the verse, but her throat closed up again and she felt frustrated tears prick at the edge of her eyes.
The door opened. She let go of Sheila.
"Bad news," Bonnie said. "Turns out hospitals in the twenty-first century don't have candles. There's a backup generator in case the power goes out. Go figure."
"Really?" She cleared her throat and turned with as kind an expression as she could muster. "That's a shame."
"Eh, it's fine. Got plenty at home anyway." Her eyes flicked to Sheila and her face dropped. She stepped closer, taking a deep breath and trying to smile. "Hey, Grams! Uh… something crazy happened today. I finally sensed what Angie is. Had to touch her first, but," she glanced at her, "now I only have to look. I'll be helping you in no time, so hang in there, okay? I can't lose you. You're… you're pretty much my best friend. No offence, Ann."
"None taken." It would be silly to. Sheila raised Bonnie, mentored her in witchcraft, and became her closest confidant because of it. She was everything.
"What else? Let's see, I already told you about the dinner party we'll be attending… oh! The Founder's party is next week. Me and the girls are going dress shopping on Friday, so that'll be fun. Um… that rogue vampire still hasn't been caught, even though Angie drew a police sketch and everything. He does look kind of familiar, but… I just can't put my finger on who he is."
Angela had shown it to Pearl and her people as well, though only Anna thought he looked familiar. That hardly narrowed down the list of suspects, since of the three of them, Anna would have seen the most of Mystic Falls' residents.
"I'm… pretty sure that's it. Think I'm going to head home and try to light a candle. Let's hope it works. I want to wake you up as soon as I can. Never thought I'd miss your lectures, but," she chuckled softly, "I do. Oh, uh, when you do wake up though, maybe lecture Angie first. She's the one that drank all your bourbon."
"Bonnie!"
She walked to the door with a grin. "You know you can't hide a thing from her."
The skin below her collar bones had gone warm from a memory only she was privy to, and she tried to deflect. "What were you doing raiding her liquor cabinet, young lady?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Angela narrowed her eyes. Bonnie's laughter was loud when she was shoved out of the room, and though she tried to remain stern, she couldn't. Her laughter was loud too.
Bonnie was kind enough to drive past her house in order to drop her off at home, and Angela said to keep her posted on whether or not she was able to light that candle. As soon as she stepped inside, she was greeted by the sight of her sister sitting on the couch and reading from an old-looking leather journal. She left her purse by the door and went behind her, skimming the text out of curiosity.
"Is that one of Johnathan Gilbert's?"
Elena didn't look up, choosing instead to turn the page. "Mhm. Guy really hated vampires."
She snorted. That was an understatement. "You get to the Pearl part yet?"
"No. Why? What does it say?"
She reached over Elena's shoulder and gently pried the journal out of her hands. The part was roughly two-thirds in, so that's where she went. "Here we go." She handed it back. "Have fun."
It would take a minute for her to finish reading the whole thing, so she went into the kitchen for a glass of water. "Are you hungry?" After receiving a distant, "Sure," she decided they would order from the Grill today. She was feeling too lazy to cook.
When she finished drinking her water and placing their order—the usual, the place knew it by heart—she returned to Elena. She seemed perturbed, and set the journal down with a grimace.
"Do you think she holds a grudge?"
Angela looked at her as if to say the answer was obvious. "Wouldn't you? But, good news, I'm pretty sure it's only against the men of the family. Didn't get the impression she hated me."
"Still… can't say I'm too happy about being surrounded by three vampires that could kill me."
It would be rude to laugh, so she didn't. "Whatever happened to Elena the Vampire Slayer?"
"Pretty sure I have to actually slay a vampire to get that title. And she's still there, she's just… scared. Right now."
"Yeah… The world is pretty scary."
"Can I ask you something?" Angela hummed affirmatively. "How do you do it? How do you just go out there and do crazy supernatural stuff like it's nothing? A dead witch threw you against a tree, Damon almost choked you to death, and you seem insanely comfortable around Stefan and Anna, when ever since the Tanner incident I've been trying to avoid them all like the plague. How are you still okay?"
That's my secret, she thought, and smiled despite herself. I'm never okay. "Death changes you. Makes you see things differently. It's probably silly, but I feel a bigger rift between me and humans than I do me and vampires. Now, the dead witches I could do without."
"You feel a rift between us?"
"Is that what I said?"
"Well, not in those words, but—"
"Not in any words. You're family, Lena. Species doesn't matter when you're family."
"It does when you've gone through something major I can't even begin to understand. I want you to be able to tell me everything."
"But I can't tell you everything, can I? I can't tell anyone. I know too much. I have to carry that burden alone. It'd be too dangerous not to."
Her expression became one of concern. "And you're okay with that?"
"No, of course I'm not okay with it. It's the loneliest feeling in the world. But what am I supposed to do? I'm not dumb enough to tell you everything, because even though I love you and I trust you, the more people that know, the higher the odds of something terrible happening. Something I can't fix." Not that she had been able to fix much anyway. "Can you promise me something?" When Sheila slipped into her coma, she drafted an e-mail that would send within a month unless she actively postponed it. Were she to die, it would put Elena on the trail to finding the bottle. "If I ever go missing for a month, check your e-mail."
Elena straightened up. "What do you mean if you go missing?"
"It's just in case. I probably won't."
"Are you sure?"
No. Of course she wasn't sure. "I'm sure."
She seemed hesitant, like she wanted to ask more but was afraid to. "I promise."
"Thank you." She lovingly ran her fingers through her hair. "I love you, you know. Even if you are a lowly human."
Her sister chuckled. "I love you too." She leaned further into her hand. "Even if I'll never understand you." Angela knew that it was the truth, but for some reason, hearing it come out of Elena's mouth drove a dagger through her heart.
It was impossible to sleep that night. Most nights, though she didn't get much sleep anyway, the few hours she did get were all too welcome. The nightmares were welcome. It was a bad thing, but it was a thing she couldn't help. The nightmares were familiar. Constant. Certain in a world where almost nothing was. They were a break from that part of her mind that thought too much and felt too little. The part of her mind that was currently in control, and which steered her in the direction of Klaus.
There were many people in this world that terrified her, but most of them were avoidable. Esther? Don't open her coffin. Silas and Qetsiyah? Cure's a no go. Markos and Kai? No Silas meant no travelers, which meant no Markos or collapse of the Other Side. Mikael? Well… Mikael she had special plans for. But Klaus was unavoidable. Because Katherine was unavoidable. And she didn't want to kill him, because killing him meant killing every vampire that currently resided in Mystic Falls. Enzo and Lexi too, maybe. She couldn't remember.
Though she'd thought of how to handle him a decade ago, if he found them before Elijah did, they may very well die before she could. If she never existed, Elijah would have found Elena through Rose and Trevor. How did Rose and Trevor find out about Elena? She couldn't remember. If she never got into contact with Rose and Trevor, how would she get into contact with Elijah without alerting Klaus? She hated nights like these.
Not for the first time, she wondered if things would be easier had she been reborn as Elena. If she wouldn't have to worry so much since she could simply kill herself and be done with it. Or maybe things would be ten times harder, since she would be doing exactly what she was doing now. So Jeremy wouldn't have to be alone in the world. It was useless to contemplate, she supposed, because she hadn't been reborn as Elena. She had been reborn as Angela, and though it might have been just as useless, she wondered if she would ever know why.
Her sister was still asleep when she snuck out of the room, thankfully, so she didn't have to feel bad about waking her. She needed air. She grabbed the throw blanket from the couch before heading outside. The porch swing creaked when she sat down.
It was nights like this she missed her mother more than ever. She could never tell her about Klaus or Elijah or any of the others, but somehow, Miranda Sommers-Gilbert always knew what to say to make her feel better. And when she said nothing, her warm hugs were more than enough. Elena inherited that gift from her, but it never seemed to work properly. Not on Angela. How could it, when she saw her as a kid she needed to protect? Maybe she was ageist.
Her mother couldn't say anything anymore, nor could she give any more hugs, so she wrapped the blanket around herself instead. It wasn't as warm as her mother, but it would have to do. Her eyes stung.
If she was going to stay up, she might as well be productive. Maybe she would try to sing again, since she'd been thinking of her mother. Ain't No Sunshine? No. It was a simple enough song with a simple enough melody, but maybe it would help if she tried something simpler.
On June 21st, 1993, Grayson bought a camera. A friend of his had given him the idea, he said, to film the family's more important moments, and he started with her and Elena's first birthday. They converted them all to DVDs a while back, and tonight she found them in the attic, as she knew she would. She grabbed the one she wanted—the one labeled BDAYS 1993-5—and went back down to the living room.
She popped it in the DVD player and sat on the couch, wrapping the soft blanket around herself. This was likely one of her dumber ideas, but at least it wasn't one that put her life in danger. With a deep, shaky sigh, she braced herself and pressed play.
The picture was focused on the cream-and-pink happy birthday banner above the sliding doors that separated the living room from the kitchen and dining area. It was on the side of the living room, just a few feet away from where she was now, and she wondered if she remembered that day.
The camera turned to reveal a baby in a young girl's arms. No. Not just a girl. Jenna. A twelve-year-old Jenna. "Hi," she said in an overly squeaky voice. "My name's Elena. I cry over nothing and smell like poop." The declaration was so unexpected it almost made her laugh.
There was a chuckle from behind the camera. A familiar chuckle, and one that knocked the wind out of her. "Hey, now," her father said. "Don't let Mom hear that. I just changed you."
"Maybe," her voice was still high and squeaky, "it'll make her regret putting me in this frilly monstrosity."
"Oh yeah? How do you think I felt being forced into a blue wedding suit?"
She finally broke character, and scrunched her nose in disgust. "I almost forgot. You looked like she was holding you hostage."
He snickered. "No, Grayson. You can't wear black and white. You'll look like a penguin." His voice was firm and flat, an impeccable impersonation of Miranda when she was annoyed. "The theme is pastel. Pastel, Grayson. How many times do I have to tell you?"
"At least it wasn't neon."
Her heart stopped. The camera turned to find her mother descending the stairs with another baby in her arms. She was beautiful, in a boat neck dress that was a lovely shade of cream, a pair of pearl earrings, and her hair side-swept and curled.
There was a beat of silence before Jenna giggled. "Ooh, someone's blushing! Say something smooth, Gray, I believe in you."
"Uh, yeah." He cleared his throat. "You look stunning, Miranda."
Her mother approached with a smile—God, she looked young—and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Thank you." The baby—rather, she—had been staring at the camera the entire time, and she finally took notice. "Do you know what that is, Angela?" Her voice was so warm and real that, for a moment, she fooled herself into thinking she was still alive. "That's a camera. It means that when you grow up, you'll be able to watch this back."
"Yeah, Jen," Grayson said. "Shouldn't have said that poop thing. Elena will be mortified."
She snorted. "As if. She'll just know I'm the coolest aunt ever."
The doorbell rang. Her mother shot them a bright smile. "Wonder who that could be." The camera followed close behind as she opened the front door to find Abigail Bennett-Wilson standing next to her then-husband, Rudy Hopkins. Miranda pulled her into a tight, one-armed hug.
Abigail pulled back with a gasp, gaze set on her young self. "Oh my God! She's adorable, Rudy, look at that dress."
"Isn't she?" Her mother asked gleefully.
"Wow," Rudy said with clearly faked enthusiasm, "look at that dress." He shot her father an amused look before finding the camera. "Don got you to buy that thing after all?"
As her mother ushered Abigail over to Elena, the camera stayed with the men. "Figured memories are too important. Where's your little girl?"
"With Sheila. Finally got her to sleep. Didn't want to ruin the peace."
He clicked his tongue. "Yeah, first year's rough. Liz won't be bringing her daughter for the same reason."
Rudy hummed. "Wouldn't go back for the world though."
When they got to the living room, she saw that Abigail was playing with Elena, gently waving her fingers in front of her face and trying to get her to catch them. Her father sighed, the sound light and full of love. "Neither would I."
Unconsciously, she wiped a tear away from her cheek. I would. In a heartbeat, I would. But she couldn't, so she fast-forwarded instead. As soon as she saw the birthday cake, she pressed play.
It was in her mother's hands, cream-and-pink to match the décor. The camera turned to show that after the Bennetts, not only had Liz Forbes arrived, but a young Kelly, Vicki, and Matt Donovan had as well. She faintly found that curious, since she didn't remember meeting a single Donovan before middle school.
The cake was set down on the dinner table, and her father held the camera out to Rudy. "Here you go." The picture shook when Rudy took it.
Her mother retrieved Elena from Abigail's arms, and her father retrieved her from Jenna's. Then it started. The thing she decided to watch this for in the first place. Her mother started them off, but the rest quickly joined in. Still, her voice was the clearest, as it always was.
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, Elena and Angela
Happy birthday to you
Her parents blew out the candles. The guests cheered. She paused the video. She had to. It was impossible to see.
Angela had never been a loud crier. Something that rang all the more true when the rest of the house was asleep. The sobs that racked her spine, however, would surely be visible if anyone were to come downstairs, so she tried to keep them at a minimum. She didn't want people to worry about her. Why should they, when she made two of the most important people in her life die the way they did? When she made a girl—a young, innocent girl—lose her father to a vampire attack? When she wasn't even meant to exist to begin with?
Because of Jeremy, her mind whispered. Because of Jeremy. He's the reason you're doing this. The reason you're alive. If he matters, you matter too.
She came to that realization the night he was brought home from the clinic. The night she realized the full extent to which she had changed things, without even trying to. The night she wondered how much more she would change things, and how much worse they would become.
The knife had been easy to get, but climbing in the bathtub had been difficult. Four-year-olds had short legs after all, but she managed with the help of a plastic stool. It would destroy her parents, she'd known, but they weren't the only people in the world that mattered. Her sister ended up happy before, when Angela Gilbert never existed. How selfish would she be to risk ruining her life when she could so easily remove herself from the equation?
Her hand had been shaking. Though her mind thought it was the best option, her heart had been pumping with a force that rippled through her entire body. Perhaps it had been a last-ditch effort by her brain to make her stop, because at the end of the day it still belonged to an animal. And animals wanted to live. The kiss of steel had been cold against her skin. She'd drawn blood, screwed her eyes shut to block out the pain, and—
A wail. High-pitched. Piercing. Her brother.
The brother who was meant to be two years younger than her. Not four. The brother whose life she had completely altered. The brother whose personality she had completely altered, and therefore would change things in her stead. The brother who, at that moment, made her realize that even if she were to dig the knife deep and drag, it wouldn't do a single thing.
It filled her with an odd sense of peace, the knowledge that she was trapped. That no matter what she did, things would change, because things had already changed. It was then that she forged her purpose in life. Then that she became Angela Gilbert. If things were going to change, the least she could do was fight to change them for the better. But to fight, first she had to live.
She would calm down, she decided. She would calm down and rewind and sing with her mother, the way she did when she was still alive. For Jeremy. Her tears provided some challenge to drawing deep breaths, but she did it anyway. Once, then twice, then thrice, until the tears stopped flowing and her eyes were clear again. She reached for the remote.
Happy birthday to you
She paused and squeezed her eyes shut. You can do this. For Jeremy. "Hap— hap-py b-birthday to you." Her voice shook and stuttered, but the melody was there.
Happy birthday to you
"Hap— hap-py birthday to you." Again. For Jeremy.
Happy birthday—
"—Elena an-and Angela." Again. For Jeremy.
Happy—
For Jeremy.
"—Birthday—"
For Jeremy.
—To—
For Jeremy.
"You."
Her parents blew out the candles. The guests cheered. She paused the video. A disbelieving breath escaped her. I did it. I finally did it. A fire filled her veins. A fire she never felt before, but one she immediately knew the name of. Her lips stretched into a smile. She reached for the remote. For Jeremy.
The first thing she did next morning was sing to her sister. Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers, since it was the song she was going to perform at her audition. The light in Elena's eyes and the hug she gave her afterwards reaffirmed the fact that, in a world as uncertain as this, knowing that she finally managed to fix something was incredible.
Next was Jeremy. Sweet, smart Jeremy for whom she was doing this to begin with. Before she could get to singing, he gestured to his messy bed, indicative of the fact that he slept properly last night, and looked at her in a way that said, "See? I did you proud." Had she not been in as good a mood as she was in, she would have told him to make the bed and then come back to her. She was, however, and when he gave her a standing ovation, she nearly cried.
Jenna was sung to after that, during breakfast. She was more than happy to lend an ear, and by the end, Angela had her swaying in her seat with a grin that turned her into the twelve-year-old girl she had been last night.
Finally, the rest of the gang, during lunch. They collectively persuaded her into giving them a concert, complete with Caroline providing the backing vocals, Tyler the beat, and Bonnie and Elena the extremely poorly-planned choreography. By the end, her stomach ached from all the laughter they shared, and it was only afterwards that she realized Stefan had been watching from a distance. She subtly invited him to join them, but he shook his head with a gentle smile. Next time they spoke, she would ask him why.
Then it was Friday, and she was standing outside the auditorium. She wasn't expecting Viola to usher her in this time, so she opened the doors on her own. Mr. Roberts was sitting in one of the black seats, and turned when he heard her.
"Angela. I wasn't sure you'd show up."
She ascended to the stage. "Do you know me for a quitter?"
He smiled. "No. I don't. Well then, whenever you're—"
"I'm ready."
She aced the performance.
She couldn't sleep that night either, though because a different part of her mind was in control. The excited, determined part of her that was both craving and dreading dinner with the Zhus.
It would be the perfect opportunity to bring up Jenna and how beneficial it would be to introduce them—Anna as a friend and Pearl as a prospective buyer—in order to begin forging a bond between them and the town of Mystic Falls.
It would also be the perfect opportunity to have a private chat with Pearl about Katherine's betrayal. Something about the way Pearl carried herself made her think she would be an invaluable ally for when her old bestie showed up, and she was anxious to develop their relationship. Anna told her the morning before that they found a warlock willing to meet her at the dinner party, and though she wasn't sure it would be enough to convince them she was telling the truth, it would be far from detrimental.
She didn't wake Elena this time either, and grabbed the throw blanket from the couch. She made a mental note to oil the swing. Its creaking was annoying. She spent some time enjoying the cool night air in silence before the front door opened a crack. It was Jenna, and she still hadn't changed into her pajamas. "Hey… what are you doing out here?"
"Could ask you the same thing."
Her aunt sat beside her with a groan. "I was adult-ing. Taxes suck."
"Don't we have an accountant for that?"
"We did. Until he retired. Gotta find a new one. You?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"Wanna talk about it?"
She felt bashful to admit it, but decided to anyway. "I'm too excited for tomorrow. Which is weird. I can't remember the last time I was excited to wake up."
Jenna's expression became one of hope. "You know… that might just be the best news I've gotten all year."
She laughed quietly, out of embarrassment, and looked away. "Oh, stop."
"No, I mean it! I mean, with Tanner and everything, I was really worried that… God, Angie, I'm so happy for you." Something in her eyes changed, and she straightened up. "It's—it's not because of a boy, is it?"
That was the last thing she was expecting her to say, but how could she miss an opportunity to mess with her favorite aunt? "How'd you guess?"
"Are you serious?"
Jeremy does technically count as a boy, doesn't he? "Dead serious." Jenna's eyes went wide. "But don't tell Elena. It's super secret business."
"Oh. Yeah. Pfft, yeah, of course." She cleared her throat. "So, uh, is he cute?"
"The cutest." It was extremely obvious how difficult it was for Jenna to contain herself, and she struggled not to laugh.
"The cutest, huh? Well that's… that's cool. Is he tall?"
"Um… average height?"
"Okay. Okay, well that's fine. That's great, in fact. A cute, average-sized boy. The cutest average-sized boy."
"His eyes are just dreamy too."
Jenna mouthed, "Oh my God," and Angela couldn't hold back her laughter anymore.
"I love you."
Jenna chuckled. "Love you too."
"Have I ever thanked you properly? For all you've done for us?"
"Oh, please. I haven't done a thing."
"Of course you have. You've been a giant help to Jeremy and Elena. And to me. Thank you for moving in with us."
"Any aunt worth her salt would do the same."
"Not any aunt." She nudged her playfully. "The coolest aunt ever."
Jenna huffed in embarrassment. "I should be thanking you. If you didn't learn how to cook, I'd be an even bigger wreck of a guardian than I already am. Can you imagine me trying to make breakfast every morning? End up burning the house down."
She looked up at the stars with a giggle. "No doubt about it." Out the corner of her eye, she saw Jenna follow her line of sight.
"It's nice out tonight."
She must have jinxed it, because a breeze immediately made goosebumps erupt on her skin. She pulled the blanket closer against her body to get rid of them. A glance at Jenna showed that her day clothes weren't nearly as light as the pajamas she was wearing were, but still, she had to ask.
"Are you cold?"
"Hm?" Jenna looked at her. "Eh, a little bit. You?"
"A little bit."
"Wanna head inside?"
"Not really."
Jenna noticed how she was clutching the blanket. "Want a thicker one?"
"I'm fine."
"Well… I'm gonna get one for myself." She went to stand, but Angela stopped her.
"Wait. You don't have to get up." She unfolded the blanket. "It's big enough for the both of us." They adjusted it so it was wrapped all the way around them, and though it pushed them close together, she found it was far from uncomfortable.
"Ooh." Jenna snuggled further in. "This is cozy." She pet the blanket. "And soft."
"I know, right?"
Jenna looked back up at the stars, and the angle made her rest her chin on top of Angela's head. "Can't remember the last time I admired the sky like this."
"Me neither. Been too busy recently."
"Hm… we should have a family game night."
That idea wasn't half bad, considering it would provide an excellent way to have fun with Jeremy, like she promised. She thought for a moment. "Sunday?"
Jenna nodded against her head. "Sunday."
There was another cool breeze, and an arm wrapped around her shoulders. She welcomed it. Jenna wasn't as warm as her mother, she decided, but she was warm enough.
I think it's safe to say that if anyone harms a hair on Jeremy's head, they're dying asap.