She Knew

by WhiteHairedD

Elena and Angela Gilbert were born on June 22nd, 1992 in Mystic Falls, Virginia. But Angela knew. And because she knew, it was easy for her to carve out a purpose for herself in her new life: protect her family (blood-related or otherwise) and prevent as many pointless deaths as possible. One thing she didn't know, however, was just how difficult that would prove to be. [SI-OC OT3]

16. Sleepless in Suburbia

(The internet is on fire as we speak, iykyk ;-;)

So, kind of why it took me so long to upload this chapter but also kind of off topic so feel free to skip.

I spent most of July in my grandpa's village in the mountains where the internet is utter shit, but it was honestly so good for both my mental and physical health. There's this big ass forest there where I would walk every day and it worked tf outta my legs bro. Like, I have an actual exercise routine now because it motivated me to finally get moving and get more fit like I've been wanting to since quarantine. Plus the fresh air and beautiful scenery helped me feel calmer and more mindful in general. It was wonderful, though tbh there were moments in that forest where I expected a vampire to just pop out and attack me out of nowhere because writing this fic has completely taken over my life. Like you know that thing they say about how when you're in love with someone they're the first thing you think of in the morning and the last thing you think of at night? That's me with this fic but x100 all times of the day. I have so many other stories I want to write but I can't until this one's finished. Which will probably be a million words from now. WHen will I be released, fanfic gods?

Anyway. Just a short silly life update. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

---

CHAPTER 15

SLEEPLESS IN SUBURBIA

.

The next day, they skipped the last two classes in favor of going to Sheila's house. Empty as it felt without the old witch, Bonnie had claimed it as a home away from home; even more so than before. Thanks to her, though it felt empty, it also felt alive.

Little touches of Bonnie were everywhere. There were more flowers than before, where Sheila preferred herbs. The house smelled less neutral, thanks to the five million scented candles Bonnie always had lit. There were more pictures on the walls. Most involved a member of their group, laughing or smiling or, in a candid involving Tyler, falling flat on their face during football practice. They evoked a sense of nostalgia for the simpler times where summer wasn't so closely associated with grief. It was familiar, like Sheila. It was comforting, like Sheila. But it wasn't Sheila. Not anymore. That was something they had to fix.

"How come she never showed me this?" Bonnie asked. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she sounded mildly offended.

Angela dragged the wooden box out of Sheila's nightstand and set it down on the bed. The duvet wrinkled beneath its weight. "She said she would show it to you when you had 'proven yourself ready' or something. I objected, but as she was so fond of reminding me, you're not my granddaughter."

Elena rubbed Bonnie's shoulder to offer comfort. "I'm sure she won't mind if you see it now."

Bonnie dropped onto the bed. "It doesn't matter. If she yells at me when she wakes up, I'll just be glad that she's awake to yell at me." She gave them all a once-over; Elena standing next to her, Angela kneeling in front of the box, Caroline sitting in the armchair, and Tyler leaning against the wall. She tried to sound optimistic, but Angela could tell how nervous she was. "Let's get this thing out of here, okay?"

Bonnie's fingers wrapped around the latch keeping the box shut and she went to turn it, but her fingers slipped off without success. She frowned. A twist. Nothing. Another twist. Nothing. She shuffled closer and pulled harder. The latch remained in place, even when she pulled with much more force than should be necessary. Her face twisted in pain, and when she let go, her fingers were red where the metal had dug in. "What the hell?"

Angela watched Bonnie's efforts with increasing trepidation. "It's locked. Isn't it?"

Bonnie let her hand drop against the duvet. There was a faint, frustrated line between her eyebrows. "It must be."

"Locked with what?" Tyler asked. "Magic?"

"Yeah. Damn it, Grams, why do you have to use your brain?"

"Well…" Caroline trailed off. "Can you un-magic it?"

"Maybe." Bonnie looked at Angela. "How did she spell the box that contained Emily's talisman?"

"She made it so only I could open it. And only willingly. She used my blood to bind it to me."

"I've heard of that spell. If that's what's on here…" Bonnie bit her lip. "Not good."

Elena sat down next to her. "I remember you telling me something about reversing spells in order to remove them. Can you do that here?"

"She needs to know which spell it is first," Angela said. "Maybe we can find it in Ms. Sheila's grimoire?"

"Yeah," Bonnie said. "But judging by the fact that she never even mentioned Emily's grimoire to me, I doubt she mentioned it in there. Which means that while the spell she cast is in there, she probably doesn't say which one it is."

"What about that thing—what's her name—Bree did?" Caroline asked. "She found out what was wrong with Ms. Sheila just by meeting her. Can you do that here?"

Bonnie shook her head. "Her magical footprint would be nearly invisible to anyone as new to this thing as me. I could try, but I think that trial and error with the sealing spells would be our best shot."

"Unless…" Angela trailed off.

Bonnie looked at her curiously. "Unless what?"

"No. Never mind. Bad idea."

"What is it?"

"A bad idea. I'm not putting you in danger."

"Tell me. If it can make this easier, I want to know."

"No."

"Yes. Grams' life is in danger."

"No! Your life will be in danger if you do this. I know you. You're selfless. As soon as you hear it, you'll be on board. I'm not letting that happen. I'm not letting you get hurt because of me. Not again."

"Angela. Please. I need to know."

Angela flinched, both at being called by her proper name and at the note of desperation in Bonnie's voice. It hurt to know that she was hurt. She watched her for a moment longer, before sighing in resignation. "I'll only tell you if you promise not to do it."

"I promise," Bonnie replied quickly. Too quickly. Angela kept staring, which made Bonnie throw her arms up. "I promise!"

"Fine! Fine. Remember that weird family link you guys have? Emily was able to create a body for herself because she siphoned Ms. Sheila's magic from the box that contained her talisman. Which worked because she was already dead. Ms. Sheila had to be on Death's door in order to siphon Emily's magic and remove her from…" From what? The land of the living? Existence as a whole? What the hell happened to Emily Bennett? "From her new body. Which means, if you were to be on Death's door too…"

"I could siphon Grams' magic from this box."

"Exactly. But I'm not letting that happen. Because I love you and don't want you accidentally dying."

"Not to mention," Tyler interjected, "even if you don't die, you could still go into a coma like your grandma."

Angela gestured towards him. "That's true. Maybe before, your ancestors couldn't touch you because you were basically human. If you do this as a witch, they could find a way for you to never wake up so that you can never wake up Sheila."

"Or so they can punish her even more," Elena said solemnly. "Your grams would have to live with the knowledge that she doomed her granddaughter, the person she loves most in the world."

"Would they really do that?" Caroline's voice was hushed. "Aren't they supposed to care about their descendants? Bonnie's innocent."

Tyler shrugged. "Worst case scenarios are good to think about."

"Especially when you're trying to convince someone not to do something." Angela gave Bonnie a tentative smile. "Promise me you won't do this, even if Emily's grimoire isn't the answer."

Bonnie was biting the inside of her cheek. Her gaze was unfocused, like she was lost somewhere far away. "Yeah. Um. Sure."

"That doesn't sound very convincing."

"No, I… I won't do this."

Angela glanced at Elena. It seemed like she didn't quite believe her either.

"If you do," Tyler said slowly, "make sure to tell us first, okay? I mean, I don't really know a lot about magic. Or anything about magic. But you've been one of my closest friends since middle school. I'll always be there for you. No matter how batshit crazy of a plan you want to go through with, I never want you to go through with it alone."

It seemed like his words were the only ones to get through to Bonnie, as when he finished speaking, the smile on her face was completely sincere. "Okay," she said. "I promise. I won't do anything without telling you first."

His shoulders slumped in relief. "That worked? Good. Can't have you dying on us, chief."

"Never. If I die, my love for you will die with me, and my body won't be the only thing to grow cold in the ground. My heart will grow cold too, because I won't remember any of you, or how it feels to have a family."

Elena's breath hitched. "Oh, Bonnie…"

Tyler chuckled, though it sounded dull. "Way to show me up. Did you read that in a book or something?"

"No." Bonnie gave him an eyebrow wiggle that was so ridiculous it instantly brightened the mood. "I'm just that good."

"Well, on another note…" Caroline looked up at Tyler with a mischievous smile. "Look at how heartfelt and sweet he's being," she cooed. "It's precious."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up."

Elena giggled. "No, she's right. I mean, here I thought that jocks were supposed to be emotionally stunted jerks with anger issues."

He let out a groan, though the lack of heat in it let them know that he didn't mind the teasing. "You're worse than your sister sometimes, you know that?"

"It's kind of hard not to be when your face is all cute and red like that," Caroline said.

Angela's mouth dropped open in vicious delight. "It is, isn't it? Aww, and now his neck's a bit red too. Makes me want to pinch his itty widdle baby cheeks."

"I take it back," he said with a grimace. "Angela's definitely still worse."

Bonnie had begun to grin. "You're just going to let them mock you, chief? For shame. I thought that emotionally stunted jerks were stronger than this."

"Traitor," he shot back. "How come you three always gang up on me?"

"It's because you're the only boy." Angela crossed the room to boop his nose. "And because you are cute when you're flustered." He snapped at her finger with his teeth, making her pull away with a yelp.

"That's fine," he said. "Just keep in mind that a cornered animal will always fight back."

"Oh, that line is definitely coming back to bite you in the ass someday."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Why don't you tell me how?"

"And ruin the surprise? How could I?" She gave him a gentle smile. "Anything I keep from you is kept temporarily, and for a reason I believe is good. Give it some time." She turned towards Bonnie. "We should get Ms. Sheila's grimoire. See what we can find."

"Right. Well, that's easy." Bonnie slid off the bed and approached the dresser on the other side of the room. She dug through one of the drawers until she lifted a thick, leather-bound book. She turned around to face them. "Alright." She smiled, her eyes full of determination. "Let's do this."

.

Bonnie snapped the grimoire shut with an audible puff of air as aged paper smacked against aged paper. Her under eyes looked dark and her mouth was set in a frown. She flung the grimoire against the couch and flopped onto her side, bringing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them so that she was in fetal position. "Fuck everything."

One spell. They managed to reverse a single, measly spell in the time it had taken for the sun to set and rise again. According to Bonnie, it was the most commonly-used sealing spell, which meant that it was the easiest to reverse, much to her current chagrin.

She attempted to assign a task to each of them so they wouldn't feel useless, but got as far as having Caroline retrieve the material components before realizing that there was nothing for the rest of them to do. Caroline got the candle from the designated candle cupboard in the laundry room, and it took her ten minutes to go to the store and come back with two feet of hemp rope. Then, the four of them sat in silence while Bonnie concentrated on creating a counter to the spell.

Had Bonnie been better at "this whole witch thing," as she self-consciously put it, there would be no need for anything but her own power. No material components. No hours of spellcraft. Just intention in the form of thought or voice, and power. But something was blocking her. Be it lack of experience, lack of confidence, or simple fear, for some reason she was unable to do it alone. So one by one, Elena, Angela, Tyler, and Caroline assigned a task to themselves. Moral support.

They eventually moved from the living room to the dining room in order to take a break for Bonnie's sanity, and ordered take-out from a Thai place that was not the Mystic Grill and therefore not worth naming. When it started getting late, they made the collective decision to stay over.

And finally, at four o'clock in the morning, Bonnie cast the spell. It did nothing. She described it as feeling like it fizzled out of existence, all that hard work she put into it quite literally disintegrating since it had nothing to latch onto. She politely asked them to cover their ears, and proceeded to scream into a pillow as loudly as possible.

Now, at six o'clock in the morning, Bonnie had given up.

Elena dropped onto the couch beside her. Caroline had long since fallen asleep, tucked beneath a blanket in an armchair, and Tyler lost the fight with himself not five minutes ago, passing out with his head laid on the coffee table. Angela was only slightly more tired than usual. She was used to pulling all nighters. If anything, she was happy to be doing it willingly for a change.

"You need to sleep," Elena said, her voice raspy from exhaustion. "We need to sleep."

Angela sighed and placed her bookmark between two pages, closing her copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude. "She's right. Come on, bunny. Brush your teeth and wash your face. It's time for bed."

Bonnie's frown deepened and she hugged her legs tighter. "No. No, what am I saying? I can do this. Now that I've done it once, it won't be as hard. I can probably get this done in another hour or two."

"Bonnie," Caroline murmured. Her eyes had opened a crack, though they looked glassy and tired. "Sleep."

"You'll still be able to do this when you're well rested. Come on." Elena smacked Bonnie's thigh. "Get up."

Bonnie let out a whine and rolled over so that her face was hidden by the couch. Her voice became muffled. "Shut up and let me suffer."

Caroline sighed. "Bonnie. If you don't get up right this second, I'm gonna pick you up and carry you."

"Do it."

She blinked. "What?"

Bonnie turned her head to look at her. "I said do it. Do it. I dare you. I double dog dare you, motherf— oh my God!" In the time it took for her to speak, Caroline had already marched on over. She took her by the wrist and slid her off the couch, making her land on the rug beneath with a loud thud.

Caroline looked like a disappointed mother as she glared down at Bonnie's shocked expression. "Get up. And go to bed."

"Dang," Angela drawled. "So rough and violent. It's kinda hot."

"Would the three of you shut up?" Tyler mumbled. "I'm tryna sleep."

Elena pushed him with her foot. "Everybody's trying to sleep. Except for Bonnie, apparently."

Bonnie pushed herself off the floor. "I'm going. I'm going. Jeez." She waved Caroline away when she tried to hover. "Don't have to be so pissy about it."

"It's not pissiness." Elena replaced Bonnie by lying down on the couch. "It's sleep deprivation."

"Whatever."

"Hey, Bon?" Angela reached out to pet Elena's head. "Kind of random, but… other than Sheila's grimoire, do you know where she kept any of her other magical texts?"

"Uh… why?"

"She mentioned something a while ago. Made me curious to know more."

"Yeah?" Bonnie glanced further into the house. "Sure. Follow me."

She led Angela to a door that she had never been through. It was always locked, and any time she asked Sheila about it, all she got was a look that said, "Come now. You're a clever girl." Bonnie turned the handle with ease, opening the door and revealing a darkened room. When Angela raised an inquisitive eyebrow, Bonnie shrugged and said, "Only someone from our bloodline can open it."

Bonnie flipped the light switch, revealing to Angela that it was a study. The lunar calendar behind the desk and the messy piles of books scattered everywhere filled her with an odd sense of joy. Out of everything in the house, this room was the only thing that felt completely like Sheila.

"I trust you not to wreck this place, so I'll leave you to it," Bonnie said. "Just… don't close the door, okay? You'll get locked in and no one will be able to hear your screams."

Angela blinked. "Lovely. Before you go, do you think you can point me to anything that mentions doppelgängers?"

Bonnie's eyebrows rose. "Doppelgängers? Actually… that's really weird. There was this nameless elixir I found in her grimoire today. The only thing she wrote other than how to make it was the word 'doppelgänger'."

Angela stiffened.

"Do you know anything about that? What do you want with doppelgängers?"

"Um. Personal curiosity."

"Huh. Well, I don't know about doppelgängers specifically, but this section down here has all her stuff on supernatural creatures and their lore. Although most of them aren't thought to exist. Including doppelgängers."

"I know." Angela gave her a disarming smile. "I just didn't have time to ask her more about them before she… became indisposed."

Bonnie still seemed confused, but didn't object. "Alright. Well. I'm gonna crash. Have a good night. Er, morning."

"You too. Sweet dreams."

As soon as Bonnie left her alone, she went to the bookshelf and began combing through the texts. She found leaves of paper slapped together and collected in binders, books new and old, and leather journals filled with information dating as far back as the fourteenth century. Sheila loved leather journals, she'd come to find, just like she loved herbs, clay dinnerware, wooden furniture, and homemade tea. Anything that came from nature and was as untainted by human—or otherwise—hands as possible. Except for whiskey and her granddaughter. Sheila loved those more than everything else combined.

There was a name that she mentioned. Angela always paid attention to names. They held power and were easy to learn. Ahmad. His name was Ahmad. She found it written in the thinnest book, old-looking and titled, "An History of Rare Magical Theories from Around the Globe," though there was no author to be seen. She guessed that it was a hand-me-down from Emily's time or even further back, and they did it to prevent a witch hunt.

When Sheila said that he was half mad from isolation at the time that he wrote his theory, Angela assumed that he had been an eccentric hermit who decided to ditch society and live alone in the mountains. He was not. He was a necromancer. A proper, honest-to-God necromancer. Not a neck-romancer like vampires were, but a guy who robbed graves and animated dead people to make them do his bidding. They were more like zombies than anything, and he had to tap into very dark magic to do it, but despite the morally questionable way he lived his life, it really was an impressive feat.

According to the book, he was the trusted advisor of the reigning Mamluk sultan in 1506 until a local witch found out what he was doing and forcibly stripped him of his magic. This led to word of his extracurricular activities reaching the sultan's ear, and though he may not have believed in zombies, he sentenced Ahmad to die on account of his grave robbing. The name of the witch who stripped him of his magic and the means by which Ahmad escaped his fate were not detailed in the book, much to Angela's disappointment, but it was said that he spent the rest of his life in complete solitude, unwilling to enter a human settlement again for fear that, now being human himself, he would be captured and brought to justice.

Reading all this, Angela couldn't figure out why Sheila dismissed his idea so easily. Though his sanity did wane in his later life, he was clearly intelligent enough to worm his way into a sultan's court and have people convinced of his innocence for years. Not to mention, by using forbidden magic, he might have learned things that lawful magic-users like Sheila and that witch from his time would have no clue about.

He likened a doppelgänger's twin, a parasite, to a leech that he once saw in Europe, stating that the more "it" filled its belly with blood the more it would hunger, and that like that leech, it would grow to hunger only for king's blood. Admittedly, that and the whole "end of the world" thing did sound a bit like a madman's ramblings, but it would be a lie to say that reading it didn't send a shiver down her spine.

She took out her phone and snapped a picture of each page, making sure that the letters were legible through the archaeological artifact that was her BlackBerry Bold 9000. Whether or not his theory was valid, it would be a good idea to copy it down at home so she could access it at will. And in case it was valid, she would be able to read and reread it until it clicked in her mind and she was able to understand herself better.

"What are you doing?"

Angela tried not to give into her instincts to slam the book shut. "Checking out Sheila's study. Freaky, huh?"

"Oh." Elena's gaze wandered the room. "So that's what this place is. I've always wondered." She looked into the hallway. "We set up a place for all of us to crash. You coming?"

"Of course. I'll be right there."

Seemingly satisfied, Elena turned around and left. Angela breathed a sigh of relief, though her chest felt heavy. It was painful, the intensity of her desire to tell Elena about their heritage. But at the end of the day, it was only a waiting game. Waiting until Elena saw vampires in the same casual light that she saw humans and witches.

It was Jeremy that truly worried her. He needed—and deserved—a normal life more than anyone she knew, and even if her plan with Anna and Stefan worked, she had no idea how he would handle the revelation that they were vampires. How would he handle knowing that Damon was a vampire? How would he handle Klaus and Katherine and others that better fit his idea of evil? Would he become worse? Would the healing he had done be for nothing?

It was starting already. Even at the prospect of trying to sleep, her mind had begun to run its circles. Ever since that night at the Founders' Party her insomnia had gotten worse, and whenever she thought of Damon she wanted to scream.

She would get no sleep that night, or the night after, when Bonnie's next attempt at reversing a spell failed. She would get no sleep until she physically couldn't keep going, and when she nearly fainted one morning, Jenna and Jeremy teamed up to force her to stay at home and rest. She slept for nearly twelve hours, but then the cycle began anew. The only thing that provided relief was Pearl's blood stored up in the attic. While it was going down her throat every morning, she felt normal. Her body wasn't tired. Her mind wasn't tired. But then her system would absorb it, and her eyes would go back to stinging.

"Can you do me a favor?" she asked Anna one day, after she became a regular at their lunch table. She caught her just before she left the school, and asked her to come to a secluded location outside.

Angela held up her arm, the red gash from her self-inflicted wound startling against her pale white skin. "Can you heal me? I don't want anyone to get worried."

Anna looked over the injury, her neatly shaped eyebrows drawing together in concern. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Some kid was running with scissors. Scratched me up a bit."

Anna scoffed, though her smile was an attempt at comfort. "Don't they teach you not to do that in kindergarten?"

"You and I are older on the inside. Some people are younger."

When Anna bit into her wrist, Angela's heart fluttered in excitement. She did it. She managed to bullshit her.

She savored every moment. She savored bringing her hands out to take Anna's arm, she savored bringing the blood to her lips, and most of all, she savored feeling the exhaustion she had grown accustomed to fade away. Anna said something about Elena being older on the inside too, but she paid no attention. The relief was too great, and this time the taste of pomegranate was as overwhelming as the taste of cinnamon and honey. Anna spoke again and shifted slightly, but Angela didn't care. She felt normal and okay and alive.

"Hey." The word was faint, far in the distance like a ship drifting away from shore. "Hey. That's enough." Anna shifted again, but Angela gripped her tight to keep her from moving. "You're healed. Angela. Enough. Stop. Angela. Stop!" The arm was ripped away, and Angela's back hit the red brick wall. Anna held her against it by the shoulders, her brown eyes wide in disbelief. "I said stop. Why didn't you stop?"

Angela felt dazed. She blinked a couple times as if to wake up, but it did nothing except make the world go in and out of focus. "Um." She looked around. The wall made a 90 degree turn and met the yellow leaves of a tree that was just outside school grounds. A squirrel climbed up the bark, its fluffy tail swishing when it circled around and hid within the leaves. It was the only sign of life besides her and Anna. They hadn't been seen.

Anna shook her head expectantly. "'Um' what?"

"I don't… ah… hm."

She scoffed. "You speak at least two languages I understand. Use one of them."

"Does blood taste like food to you?"

There was silence. Then, Anna said, "What."

"I— I mean obviously it acts like food, but does it also taste like food? Because to me, your blood tastes like food. Every vampire's blood I've had so far tastes like food."

"So what, you wanted to get an hour-long dinner off my surprise stew? I gave you permission to drink some of my blood, not all of it. You were on your way to draining me."

"Not stew. Pomegranate."

Anna's face remained frozen in disbelief, before she sighed and let her go. She ran a hand through her hair. "You can't just do something like that. Freaked me out for a second."

"Are you listening to anything I'm saying?"

"Yes. And I don't know what it's about. Maybe it's a human thing. I can't remember what Katherine's blood tasted like."

"Katherine?"

"She's the only vampire whose blood I've had. She's my sire. And my mother's."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Still don't know why a rich European girl came all the way to a tiny village in China before it would make her look good. At any rate, I can't help you. Sorry."

"I'm sorry too. I had no idea that would happen."

The distress left Anna's face. "It's fine. Just… try not to do it again, okay? It's not nice to eat your friends."

"You think we're friends?"

Anna's expression faltered. "Are we not?"

"No. I— I mean yes! We are! I just didn't realize you thought so too."

"Can't blame a girl for not opening up to the giant, all-knowing question mark."

"I am a giant question mark, aren't I? Ugh. That blows."

"Eh, who doesn't like a bit of mystery?" Anna's eyes turned devious. "I know at least one person who does."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"Who?"

"Oh, come on. You know who I'm talking about."

"Um… no?"

"Are you serious?" Angela kept staring, lost, and Anna let out a disbelieving laugh. "Wow. You really are clueless. Stefan. I'm talking about Stefan. You know, the guy you have a big, fat crush on?"

Angela hurried to hush her. "Super hearing! Anna! He has super hearing!"

"It's cute how shy you are about it."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not!" She felt her face beginning to burn, and Anna's delighted smile only deepened her embarrassment. "You're such a sadist."

"I'm not a sadist."

"Tell me you don't enjoy pushing people against hard surfaces and belittling them."

Anna went to answer, but stopped. She remained slack-jawed in awe, as if she was hit by some earth-shattering revelation. "Oh my God, I think I'm a sadist."

"Uh huh. Yeah. How's that for a truth bullet, friend?"

Anna composed herself. "Doesn't change the fact that Stefan likes mystery. You think beauty was the only reason he was so taken by Katherine?"

"No. She was also smart, had four hundred years of experience on him, and compelled him to worship the ground she walked on."

"Before she compelled him, friend. Wherever Katherine went, people talked. The smaller the place, the wilder the gossip. Nobody knew the true Katherine Pierce." She poked her on the forehead. "Nobody knows the true Angela Gilbert. That's why he likes you. Not just because you're beautiful. It's because you're a puzzle he wants to solve."

In a way, Anna had a point. Every one of his romantic interests that she knew about was unique, and fascinating on a root level. Valerie was a siphoner; a freak of nature according to other witches. Katherine was a vampire; the first one he ever knew. Rebekah was an Original; one of the most powerful beings on Earth. Elena was a doppelgänger; possibly the rarest supernatural creature alive. Angela fit that pattern perfectly.

She gave Anna a teasing smile. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"I think everyone in your friend group is beautiful. It's honestly crazy."

"Oh? It's a good thing you're part of our group too. Wouldn't want to ruin the trend."

A faint pink tinge colored Anna's cheeks. "Smooth." She rubbed the spot on her wrist that Angela had drunk from. "Let me know if you figure out that blood thing. I'd like to know what happened too."

A peal of laughter came from the side, and Angela saw a group of boys in their swimwear heading towards the school. They carried soap buckets and a large bag which she guessed was filled with sponges.

"Are you coming to the fundraiser today?" she asked Anna. "It'll give you an opportunity to ogle at cute guys."

Anna's nose crinkled to form an expression of distaste. "I don't really ogle at anyone, unless I already feel a connection to them."

"Me neither! I never understood just being into someone's body. A conventionally attractive person can be a psychopath too."

"Exactly. Though, uh, you realize that I could probably be classified as a psychopath, right?"

"Oh, sure. The guy I have a big, fat crush on is a psychopath too. But I know that neither of you will kill me unprovoked, so I don't mind."

Anna blinked owlishly. "Huh."

"Anyway, you should come. Elena will be there."

"Why does that matter?"

"You've gotten pretty close. Thought you'd like to hang out with her."

"Will Stefan be there?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Just thought it might be the reason you're going." She pushed herself off the wall and stepped closer. Her lips stretched into a grin. "All that soap and water making those big, hard muscles glisten under the sun. I'd want to see it too."

Angela's cheeks began to burn again. She shoved Anna's shoulder to broaden the distance between them. "Sadist."

"I guess so. But sure. I'll come. Just because I want to see the look on your face when you lay your eyes on him."

"Oh, goody. Is your swimsuit going to be black like the rest of your wardrobe?"

"Hey, black's the most vibrant color. It's all the rest of them put together."

"You suck."

"I know what you want to suck."

"Oh my God!"

Anna giggle-snorted. "Too easy. Talk to you later, Angie."

Though it was silly, being called 'Angie' by someone so cautious and new to the group warmed her heart. However, around Anna, the warmth she felt in her heart was nothing compared to the warmth she felt in her face.

"Sadist!"

The car wash started at two in the afternoon, and Elena left the house thirty minutes early to help Caroline with some last-minute preparations.

As uncomfortable as Angela may have been at the prospect of being half-naked in front of the entire school, Elena was doubly so, and completely refused to take off her white tank top in order to reveal the bikini she was wearing underneath. It resulted in a small screaming match between her and Caroline—something about "proving that cheerleading is a sport through our athletic bodies"—but as arguments between the two of them usually went, either Bonnie or Angela would intervene to make them hug it out until they learned to respect each other's boundaries, and this time they had to combine their power. Sometimes she thought that if it wasn't for her or Bonnie, Elena and Caroline would have broken up ages ago.

When Angela walked up to the school's parking lot in her mint green bikini top and black shorts, the first thing that drew her eye was the large, ridiculous-looking banner that was at least three times her height in its width. Though the soap buckets included on it were fewer than the ones on the posters, they were drawn just as badly—if not worse.

The next thing that drew her eye was the trio of girls standing by the table that supported the homemade cash register she helped Caroline build. They were the only ones present, as technically the event hadn't begun yet. Caroline must have asked Bonnie to help too, and when Angela got close enough to overhear their conversation, she wondered if helping had only been an excuse to get Bonnie out of the house.

"I don't have time to be doing this," Bonnie hissed. She snatched the dripping sponge that Elena threw at her. "I need to be looking through Grams' grimoire and learning her process."

"You can go back to witchy woo-woo stuff tomorrow," Caroline said with a wiggle of the fingers. "You still have a duty to the squad to be a part of this. Besides, you're already here, so stop complaining."

"Caroline's right, Bonnie," Elena said. "You've been working yourself to the bone. You can take some time off and enjoy yourself at a stupid fundraiser."

Caroline snapped her head towards Elena. "Stupid?"

Elena stammered. "Well, I mean, compared to waking up Ms. Sheila, it's not the most important thing in the world."

"Uh huh."

Bonnie scoffed. "Can you two get over yourselves? If you want to wash cars for three hours straight, go right ahead. But by three o'clock, I'm gone."

"For what it's worth, I think they're right," Angela cut in. They gave her a cursory glance, but her presence seemed to please Caroline in particular. Or maybe it was just her lack of clothing, and all their hard work being shown off. Her body had become more toned over the past month, though it was nowhere near the level at which Elena's was. "The grimoire will still be there in the morning, and so will Ms. Sheila. You haven't been yourself lately. You could use some time off. Overworking yourself will only hinder your progress."

"See?" Elena said. "We're worried about you. Please, just spend some time with us and pretend that everything's okay for once, the way it used to be. You need this. We need this."

Bonnie pressed her lips together before sighing. "Fine. Okay." Elena and Caroline visibly relaxed. "I'm sorry for being kind of high strung lately."

"No, I get it. We all do. If it was Aunt Jenna, I'd do anything to wake her up too." Elena gave Bonnie a gentle smile. "But can you do me a favor? Trust us a little bit. We only want what's best for you."

Bonnie's face softened. "Okay. If you say so." She adjusted her grip on the sponge and looked at the road. "Now let's go. I see our first customer."

Since Caroline was the captain of the squad, she was automatically in charge of the cash register, and since Elena was the co-captain, she was in charge of greeting the customers as they came. They would switch whenever the greeter would get too hot since the register was under the shade of a large tree, but Bonnie and Angela were left to work on the first car together.

Angela tried keeping Bonnie's mind off of things, sticking to benign topics or environmentalist comments that she knew would get her talking. They would occasionally splash water on each other's back if the beating of the sun became too hot, but for the most part they were okay. The team had specifically chosen one of the hottest days of the month to set up the fundraiser, and although Angela did throw a dirty look or two at happy, under-the-shade Caroline, she was glad enough that she remembered to wear sunscreen that she didn't complain.

Soon enough, more and more students began filing in, more and more cars began pulling up, and when Tyler arrived, Angela waited for someone to take her place so she could spend some time with him. They cleaned one whole car together without incident, though she did struggle to contain a laugh whenever his eyes wandered a bit too south and snapped back up again. She knew him well enough to not be offended, so she just chalked it up to teenagers being the hormonal little bastards they were. It wasn't like girls weren't staring at him as well, the way he decided to go shirtless and show off his body.

At one point during their second car, he nudged her shoulder with a soapy hand and nodded to the side. She followed his gaze until she saw Elena manning the register and talking to Anna, who she hadn't realized showed up.

"What do you think they're talking about?" he asked.

Angela returned her attention to the car. "Who knows? Fiction, hunting, history, art. They seem to talk about anything they can think of."

"It's weird."

"It's nice. It means Elena doesn't picture a mauled corpse every time she thinks of vampires. Just a… living corpse."

"It's weird. Why Anna? Why Elena? Why not someone her own age? You'd think it'd be boring to talk to some normal kid when you're practically a relic."

Angela squinted at him. "Hey, wait a minute. Are you turning into me?"

He shrugged. "You make sense to me. Even if you're old enough to be more of a MILF than a GILF."

"Wait. A GILF?"

"Yeah, you know. Girl I'd like to fuck. Because you're probably old enough to be a mom."

"Oh no, sweetheart, I don't think that's what the 'G' stands for."

"Then what does it stand for?"

"Pretty sure it stands for grandma."

He recoiled backwards. "Grandma? What, like the little old grey ones in the wheelchairs? Shit, what the hell is wrong with people?"

"Hm… I bet you Anna counts as a GILF."

A crease formed between his eyebrows. "Wait. So if Anna dated a human, would she technically be a cougar?"

"No. She would technically be a vampire." His flat stare amused her. "Why are you obsessed with MILFs anyway?"

"My best friend is one. Have to show my appreciation somehow." He flung some soap water at her, wetting half her torso and making her gasp.

"Asshole!" She plunged her sponge into the bucket and flung soap water back at him, though he dodged to the side and remained unscathed.

"At least I'm an asshole who can aim."

"Oh yeah? Bonnie displayed a wonderful example of your 'aim' in Sheila's house."

He grimaced. "We don't talk about that."

She adopted a mocking tone. "'No, Angela. I don't need to tie my shoes to play football, Angela. I can throw the ball without tripping over my own feet, Angela.' Dork."

"Okay, first of all. Those 'shoes' are called cleats."

"Uh huh."

"And second of all, the only dork I see is you."

"Ouchie. So brutal. How will I ever recover from that kind of burn?"

"See? What kind of normal person says 'ouchie'?"

"Even so, the existence of one dork does not make the existence of another dork null."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Let's just finish cleaning this piece of shit so I can go work with someone I actually like."

"Oh hush, you love me. Besides, what other bleeding heart would tolerate you?"

"The bleeding heart that's working with Bonnie, apparently."

His words made her curious enough to glance back, and a rush of schoolgirl giddiness filled her when she saw that the person working with Bonnie was Stefan. By the looks of things, they were getting along perfectly fine, and they even shared a laugh at one point. Unfortunately for Anna—and definitely not for Angela—he was wearing a T-shirt, so the only "big, hard muscles" visible were the ones in his arms.

"You and Stefan are friends?"

Tyler moved his head in a so-so motion. "We get along okay. Although he seems to be more compatible with Matt. When he showed up, being Damon's brother and all, I wanted to kick his ass. When he was allowed to join the team even though tryouts were in spring, I wanted to kick his ass even more. But he was surprisingly nice to me. Even after I tackled him way harder than I should. Can't tell if he's dumb or just doesn't like conflict."

The slight look of concentration on Stefan's face clued her into the fact that he might be listening to their conversation. Creepy. She bit the inside of her cheek to contain a grin.

"I don't think he's dumb. I think he's prone to giving second chances."

Tyler huffed a laugh. "Yeah, and third. And fourth. And fifth."

"You're a jerk."

"I know." There was a beat of silence. "Now that you mention it, what do you think of the guy? You seem to tolerate each other pretty well." She could tell that the casual tone in his voice was faked. It made her cautious, as she didn't want to accidentally reveal his vampiric nature unless she had express permission.

"He's been nice to me too. He's um… he doesn't like what Damon's been doing. He's been checking up on me ever since we opened the tomb."

"Yeah, you said he showed up that night. Damon bruised his… arm?"

"His leg."

"His leg, right. Which is why he skipped school the next day."

"Well no, he couldn't skip. His leg was bruised."

Tyler gave her another flat look. "Do you save all your dad jokes for me or something? Make me want to kill myself."

She couldn't contain her grin that time. "Guess that means I'm more of a DILF than a MILF."

"Aaand that's strike three." His sponge landed in the bucket with a loud plop, making some of the water splash onto the cement. "I'm out. I'm going to go see if he's a pushover as well as a saint. Bonnie hates puns."

"Be nice!" she called out towards his retreating figure, but he didn't seem to pay her any mind. Typical.

She finished off the car herself, and moved on to the next one. While she knew next to nothing other than how to drive it, she wasn't brain dead, and could tell that this was a significantly newer model than the last. Not likely to be called a piece of shit by rich kids like Tyler.

The woman driving it had a sweet voice, and kindly introduced herself as Kim Lowe. Angela pointed her in the direction of the register, letting her know that she could speak to the greeter if she wanted a place to sit or some refreshments. When Kim left her by flashing a brilliant smile and saying, "Have a great day!" she realized that she was the owner of the local Deli, who would let her kid man the shop on weekends because he found it fun. Angela always wondered if he was still in elementary school. If he wasn't, maybe he and Jeremy could become friends.

"If it counts for anything, I like your dad jokes."

Her train of thought completely flew away. She was smiling before she even faced him. When she did, she saw that he was smiling too. "I knew you were spying on us."

He picked up the two sponges from the freshly refilled bucket and handed her the one that was the least beat up. She wondered if he made their fingers brush on purpose. "I wouldn't say 'spying'. I heard my name and I got curious."

"Okay, so not spying then. Eavesdropping. Big difference." As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew that she made a mistake. She'd gotten so used to playing rough with Tyler, she forgot to soften her tone.

He seemed slightly taken aback. "You're right," he said carefully. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"N— no, I'm sorry. That came out much harsher than I intended it to. I would do the same thing. You have to be careful these days. Never know who's conspiring against you. Spying is a smart thing, which means I can respect it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Absolutely." She gave him another smile. "I just forgot to switch from Tyler mode to Stefan mode. That's all."

"Oh. Alright. But… it's really not that deep." A hint of mischief entered his eyes. "This time."

She chuckled, satisfied that things were back to normal. "Is that so? Suspicious. I'll have to keep an eye on you."

"I hope you do. I'd hate for it to be one-sided."

"What, the suspicion or the watching?"

"The suspicion came and went. All that's left now is the watching."

She got started on the hood of the car. He joined her. "And why exactly are you watching me? Interested in discovering more of my weaknesses so you can document them in your journal?"

"Interested, yes. But in more than just your weaknesses. I want to know your strengths too. I want to know what makes you happy, what makes you sad, what motivates you to get out of bed in the morning. Though I think I have an idea about that last one. Your family. That's what kept you going after this past spring, isn't it?"

Her hand stilled for a moment. "It is. In a way, my family is the answer to all three of those questions. Their happiness makes me happy. Their sadness makes me sad. And if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have been alive to get out of bed on the morning of my fifth birthday. That's upsetting, isn't it? That everything in my life comes back to them? That they are what my world revolves around? Sometimes I fear I'll have no identity if I don't have them. Sometimes I wish I never had them at all, so I wouldn't have the fear of losing them. What would be left of me then? What purpose would I have?"

He gave her a kind, short-lived smile. "Whatever purpose you choose to have. That's the thing with people. We influence each other with our actions, we do things that have consequences felt by other people, but in the end, we are the only ones responsible for ourselves. If you decide that your purpose is to exist for your family, then that's what it is. But if there ever comes a time when you wish that your purpose was to exist for yourself, then that's what you should make it. Otherwise you'll regret it until you realize you have the power to change."

The steady cadence of his words was mesmerizing, and she couldn't tear her eyes off of him. "What's your purpose? I mean, you told me that your dream is to be brothers with Damon again, but is that your purpose too?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe my purpose is to be a good person." He let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. "But I'm pretty sure that's impossible by this point. So maybe it's to make up for everything. To do enough good in the world that it eventually outweighs all the bad I've done. Assuming that's even viable."

"Do you think that could ever fulfill you? Striving for a goal that you probably can't measure accurately? Or do you strive for it in hopes that it'll make the guilt you feel go away?"

At that moment, it was like all the years he'd lived finally caught up to him. He looked so old and so very tired. No one was born with the ability to live as long as him, and now she understood why. He was miserable. "I don't know. But I don't know what else to do. So I'll keep going, until another purpose calls to me. Until it's time to change. At least, in the meantime, I get to meet interesting people. Like you. You make things easier, even if only for a little while."

If her hands weren't full of soap, she might have reached over and touched his jaw. It would be an intimate gesture, but she wanted so badly to comfort him. To show him how much it meant to her that they were able to speak this way with each other. She tried to convey it with her eyes instead. "You make things easier for me too. Thank you for that. For this. For letting me into your world, and making me feel safe enough to let you into mine. It means more than you know."

He shook his head. "No, I think I do. I'm not this open with everyone."

"So why me?"

"You already know who I am. What I am. You know what I've done. What I'm capable of. I guess I assume that if you can deal with all that, you can deal with a little heart to heart."

"You don't know. I could be like that chick who fell in love with Richard Ramirez. Maybe the only heart to heart I want to have includes removing it from someone's chest cavity."

He chuckled. "See? Anything I say, it probably won't be more alarming than what already goes on inside your head."

She gave an exaggerated gasp. "Should I be offended?"

"Not at all. Talking to you is like sifting through a treasure trove. I never know what I'll find, but I know that I'll enjoy it."

"You enjoy hearing me talk about ripping someone's heart out of their chest?" she purred. "My, my, how naughty of you."

He narrowed his eyes. "I also enjoy hearing you attempt to fluster me."

"Who said I'm trying to fluster you?"

"I'm sorry, was that meant to come across as anything other than seductive?"

"If you find me naturally seductive, you can just say so. I'm speaking perfectly normally."

"It won't work, you know. If I'm able to resist my hunger, I'm able to resist a bit of teasing. You, on the other hand…" He rested his sponge on the roof. "You are far too easy to fluster."

"Am I?"

"Mhm." He stepped closer, and something in his gaze made her feel so much younger and inexperienced than she truly was. It was almost the same serpent look that Damon had given Carol Lockwood, but darker somehow. A wolf in sheep's clothing. Yes. That described him perfectly. "All I have to do is mention how beautiful you are, or how smooth your skin is, or how good your hair smells." He took a strand between his fingers, wetting it slightly and brushing his knuckles against her collarbone. "Or how soft your lips feel," he continued quietly. "And how incredibly inviting they look."

Like a literal lightbulb going off above her head, it clicked then that he was flirting with her. He was actually, blatantly flirting with her. She supposed it wasn't too bold a move considering what happened at the Founders' Party last week—or what nearly happened—but it still caught her off guard. She wondered whether she had been giving him some seriously mixed signals up until that night, or whether he had seen through her the entire time. She was positive she preferred the latter. Although it wasn't time to give in to him, right now they were playing a game. And she would be damned if she let him win.

She tilted her head to the side and looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Not as inviting as yours. Or as skilled. I've wondered what else they can do, besides kissing. I never got the chance to find out. Do you ever think of that? Your mouth on me? Your tongue on me? Do you ever think of how I'd squirm if you… applied yourself? Of what I would say or do, just to make you keep going? Because I do." She rested a palm against his chest and went on her toes so she could reach his ear. Her mouth brushed against the shell. "I think you might even make me scream."

She felt heat come from the light flush that covered his cheeks, and saw his lips part slightly, in shock. It made her emit a small, triumphant laugh. She pulled back, forcing his fingers to fall away from her hair.

"I think that officially counts as a fluster! You did well, though. If it wasn't a competition, I probably would have lost. What's my prize?"

"Uh." He blinked once, then twice, then snapped himself out of it. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

The rest of the fundraiser passed pleasantly. Stefan ended up going to the sweet shop and getting her a cone of cherry ice cream while she worked on the car, for which she thanked him profusely. Her gratefulness only seemed to amuse him, though that might have had more to do with the fact that she was in the process of devouring it while she spoke.

Anna forgot to come tease her about him or signify that she had seen them talking in any way. She chose instead to hang out and talk to Elena the entire time. It was as weird as the rest of their friendship, but she was glad to escape the embarrassment she would have no doubt felt at her ribbing.

Eventually, night fell, and she lay in bed, and her mind ran its circles. But this time was different, because the circles it ran in forced her to make a connection.

The leech. King's blood. It had to be referring to vampire blood. She latched onto Anna's arm and didn't budge when she tried to pull away. She enjoyed drinking her blood. She enjoyed drinking Pearl's blood. She enjoyed drinking Stefan's blood. They all tasted different, yet equally as good.

Which meant that the necromancer's theory was correct. It had to be. It was too great a coincidence for it to be anything else. And if it was correct, it meant that she was going to destroy the world. Was she doomed to be a tragic villain, causing greater casualties by avoiding the ones she already knew about? Or, she hoped, was that a metaphor too? But if it was, what did it mean? If kings were vampires, the world was… what, a sire line? The species as a whole? The thought made a pit form in her stomach.

Why couldn't she have stayed dead like a normal person?

.

"Okay." Bonnie cracked her knuckles and shook them out. "Let's do this."

They were all in a circle again, with the box placed on the coffee table. Sea salt, candle wax, and bay leaves were laid around it like a summer wreath. She moved her hands so they hovering above the ingredients and began to mutter an incantation that Angela couldn't even begin to comprehend. But no, it did not start with "phesmatos."

Her words rose in intensity, her face pinched in concentration, and her posture became rigid. She finished speaking, her eyes opened with a gasp, and then…

Elena looked between Bonnie and the box. "Did it work?"

Bonnie's jaw clenched. She said nothing, simply reaching out to turn the latch. It didn't budge. "No."

Tyler groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. "That was the last one."

"I know. I mean, except for the one that needs to be opened by Grams and only Grams."

"What would happen if you tried to reverse that spell too?" Angela asked. "Ms. Sheila told me it would be a bad idea, but she didn't go into specifics."

"Do you want my eyes to explode?"

"Um… no?"

"Then let's not reverse the spell."

Caroline tilted her head. "I wonder if a vampire witch could do it." She looked at Angela. "Can a vampire's limbs regenerate?"

"No. But if they're held against the body, their self-healing kicks in and attaches them back together."

"Oh. Weird. Don't tell me how you know that."

"The explosion would disrupt the spell anyway," Bonnie said, "so it wouldn't work."

Elena smiled. "Besides, you can't be a vampire and a witch at the same time."

"Seriously?" Tyler scoffed. "You can't be both? That sucks. Who wouldn't want to be a hybrid?"

Angela didn't mean to laugh out loud, but it was impossible not to.

"What now?" Tyler looked weary.

"Patience, young grasshopper. Knowledge will come with time."

"Of course. What did I expect? A part of me thinks you like knowing more than us about everything."

"Not everything. I don't know what it feels like to be your mom."

He tried not to smile and failed. "Sick comeback."

"Thank you."

"Can we focus on the issue here?" Caroline asked a bit harshly. "How do we get this thing to open?"

Bonnie traced the edge of the wood, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. She glanced at Angela. "Could go with her idea."

Immediately, the room filled with a cacophony of disagreement. Bonnie winced and motioned for them to calm down. "I'll probably be fine!" she said. "I'm not working against Emily."

"Probably?" Caroline echoed incredulously.

"Bonnie, you don't know what could happen," Elena said. "It might not work. Something could go wrong. You could die."

"We risk death just by existing. At least this way, there's a chance that I'll be able to save someone I love."

"And risk breaking that person's heart? No. We'll figure something out."

"You mean I'll figure something out. I'm the only witch here, remember?" Bonnie rubbed her forehead with a sigh. "I'm at my wit's end, Elena. I don't care anymore. I just want it to be done."

"And it will be. Okay? We'll do it together. But I can't just sit by and let you risk your life for no good reason. You promised us you wouldn't do this."

"No. I promised that I'd tell you before I did." Bonnie gave her a sad smile. "And now I have."

A wave of exhaustion rolled through Angela's body. She instinctively grabbed the side of the coffee table, but it did nothing to help with the sense of vertigo she felt. Had she gone too long again? Too long without sleep? She should have had more blood this morning.

There was a loud thump, and she followed it with her gaze. Caroline was lying on the large rug that covered most of the living room. Her fingers twitched, and her blue eyes closed slowly.

Confused, she looked at Elena, only to see that she had slumped over. Her arms had gone slack, pulling her head down and making her hair cover her face like a veil. Angela's arms wanted to go slack too. She wanted to let go of the table, to give in to the pleasant numbness that cocooned her like a blanket.

She looked at Tyler, whose jaw was clenched tightly and whose eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. Though it took him significantly longer than the girls, he too succumbed to slumber. He slumped forward like Elena, with his hands resting in his lap and his eyes half open.

Everyone wanted to sleep. Everyone but Bonnie, whose eyes were closed as if in mockery.

Angela's hands let go of the coffee table. She didn't tell them to. The lack of support made her fall backwards, and the rug cushioned her fall. Fear made her stomach flutter painfully. She wouldn't close her eyes. She couldn't. She wiggled her fingers, clenching and unclenching to make her body remember that it was awake. She could move nothing else.

Bonnie was paying no more attention to them. Her nostrils flared when she breathed in deep through her nose, and her lips parted when she breathed out through her mouth. She began speaking again, in that strange language that was almost Latin but not quite.

The light fixture overhead began to flicker, and with a loud POP! the light bulb exploded, darkening the room significantly. Bonnie's figure became backlit by the orange rays of evening light that entered through the window behind her, making her hair, shoulders, and arms look like they were on fire.

The coffee table began to levitate. It rose and rose, blocking Angela's view to Bonnie's face and then blocking her view to sunlight, making the room seem even darker for a split second. It rose until the box on top of it hit the ceiling, where it clattered and stopped.

Clench, unclench. Angela was used to this. She was used to being tired. She could stay awake. She had to. Her toes had begun to awaken, and she moved them with relative ease. Good. Maybe her arms would be next, so she could reach out and grab something. Or her legs, so she could get up and run.

Bonnie's words were growing louder, and the furniture that was still on the floor began to shake. Whenever she inhaled, it was more of a gasp than a breath, and one by one, the couch, armchairs, cabinet, and television set began to rise. The cables connecting the TV to the wall stretched until they broke with an alarming crackling sound, and when all of the pieces of furniture that filled the room were on the ceiling, Bonnie's nose began to drip blood.

The blood.

Angela looked at the backpack that still lay carelessly on the floor. She wasn't strong enough to break Bonnie out of using her magic. She would need to shake her roughly, and she couldn't even move her arms. But if she could get to Pearl's blood inside her backpack, she could try to wake one of them up. Or… or if Bonnie began to fade, she could feed it to her and save her, either by healing her or by letting her become a vampire. Either way, one thing was certain. She had to get that blood.

She made her fingers clench and clench until they formed a fist. Then she sought to move that fist. But she couldn't. Her mind was awake, but her body was not. She was trapped in her own skin. It was a terrifying feeling, and one she'd never known before. But she had to overcome it. She had to get that blood. She had to keep Bonnie alive.

Bonnie, she told herself. Think of Bonnie. Bonnie, the girl she had known since they were babies. Bonnie, the girl who once told her that she couldn't imagine a world without her in it. Bonnie, the girl who would have slumber parties with her, during which they would build pillow forts and play truth or dare and fight over which movie to watch, though they both knew they were never fighting in the first place. Bonnie, the girl who considered her to be a sister, and who Angela considered to be a sister in turn. Bonnie, her friend. Bonnie, her family. Who was Angela without her family?

She had only her head, hands, and feet. She had only the edges of herself, which was as much as she would have without Bonnie. But right now, to prevent permanence, they would have to do. She dug her heels into the rug and pushed with everything she had, rolling her head and knuckles to help herself move.

She was able to slide upward, though an inch felt like a mile with how physically taxing it was. She gripped the rug and used the edges of herself to angle the rest so that when next she pushed she would push towards the backpack.

Little by little, bit by bit, she pushed, and when she was nearly there her arms began to wake up. That was good. Her arms were exactly what she needed. She was able to use them in order to roll over, onto her stomach, and she pulled herself forward, first by gripping onto the rug and then by using her forearms flush against the wood.

Her backpack was barely a foot away. She could probably reach out and touch it. In fact…

She managed to grab hold of the strap, and she slid it towards herself, making it fall to the side so she could reach inside. She shot a glance at Bonnie. Her eyes were still closed and she hadn't noticed that anything was amiss. The amount of blood dripping out of her nose was alarming.

Angela worked the zipper open. She shoved her hand into the backpack, searching around for the small compartment that held the vial. Her arm shook from overexertion by the time her fingers wrapped around the glass. She felt weaker by the second.

She pulled it out and held it aloft. The sunlight hitting it turned the red of the blood into orange. Liquid sunset in her palm. She gripped it tight and tried to make her way back.

Just then, a creak came from above. Right over her head was a large, heavy armchair. If it fell, it would turn her skull to mush. Was the blood in her system enough to save her? Or would the force of the armchair sever her head from her shoulders and make her die for good?

The armchair began to plummet. Her mind went blank. All that remained was an animalistic need to survive. She had to move. She had to move now.

That instinct was strong enough to kickstart the rest of her body. She tucked her arms into her chest to protect the vial from being crushed by her weight before throwing herself to the side, landing so hard onto her ribs that she cried out in pain. The crash of the armchair was deafening, and small chips of wood broke off from the bottom.

Bonnie's eyes snapped open. Their gazes met. Her face twisted in confusion. "How did you resist?" Her voice sounded weak.

Angela's chest rose and fell violently. It felt like she was about to have a heart attack. That had been far too close. "Insomnia's a bitch."

To her surprise, Bonnie emitted a bitter laugh. "Guess that means I have a long way to go, huh?" She shook her head. "Don't try to stop me again."

"Bonnie, please—"

"Don't." Her upper body swayed unsteadily, and she took a moment to wipe blood off her lip. "Don't try to stop me again."

"And what if I do? What's going to happen? Are you going to knock me out? Last time didn't go so well, did it?" Bonnie's silence made her confident enough to continue. "Look around us. Look at them. Look at what you've done to them. Since when do we violate each other's will? I've known you my entire life. You're kind, and considerate, and you care about people, even if they don't deserve it. This isn't you."

"You're right. We don't violate each other's will. Don't violate mine."

"That's not the same and you know it. I'm trying to stop you because you could die."

"Angela…" She stopped to wipe more blood away. "If I don't do this now, I actually might."

Angela shook her head. "No. Not if I give you this." She held up the vial. "This is Pearl's blood. If you take it, it will heal you. You still have a choice."

"Do you know that for sure?"

"What?"

"Do you know that vampire blood heals magical exhaustion for sure, without a shadow of a doubt?"

Angela's mouth remained open, before she closed it hopelessly. "No."

"Then it's not much of a choice, is it?" Bonnie tried to take a deep breath, but ended up doubling over in a coughing fit. When she straightened back up and her lips parted, Angela saw that her teeth were stained red. "Don't try to stop me again. If you do, you'll kill me yourself."

Bonnie took the box between her hands and leaned back against the sofa. After a moment, her shoulders tensed. She gasped quietly, her shocked expression reminiscent of the one Sheila wore when she stole Emily's magic. An expression that became her own when the shock gave way to panic. Her fingers flexed against the wood. Her gasping breaths came quicker and more frantically. Her eyes, unblinking, met Angela's.

"I can't stop."

"What?"

"I can't stop. Ann, I can't stop. It's like— it's like there's a never-ending supply of magic and it's sucking me in. It's like a black hole. Her magic is too strong. It's taking me with it and I can't make it stop. I can't stop. Oh my God, I can't stop."

Angela cursed at the ground. "Are you serious? I told you—" She snapped her mouth shut. There would be enough time to reprimand her later. Right now, they had to make sure that there would be a later.

She tried to push herself off the floor, but it only made her fall back down. Her body was still weak. She settled for dragging herself over.

"Bonnie Bennett, you better fucking listen to me this time. You have the potential to become one of the most powerful beings on Earth. I know that without a shadow of a doubt. Your magic is new, but that potential is still in you right now. The potential to become more powerful than every witch you've ever known combined, let alone the witch whose magic you're trying to steal. Where's that fire you've been exuding recently? Are you going to sit back and let some dumb, weak-ass witch take that potential away from you?"

"Angela! Don't call my grams that."

"Fuck your grams."

It was an offhand, meaningless comment born out of frustration, but it made anger flash in Bonnie's eyes. And then, Angela knew exactly what she had to do.

Magic fed off of emotion. That was something Sheila said many times. If she could get Bonnie angry enough, if she could make her determined to yell at her or slap her or do anything that required her to let go of the box, maybe she could help her fix this.

"You know what she did when she found out how she died? She called herself pathetic. And she was. Emily was able to cast that spell all on her own. Sheila had your help and she still managed to fuck up and die. And now you can't even leech the magic off a weak, pathetic witch like her. She really did fail as your tutor, didn't she? Are you going to let her die a failure? Are you going to die too, just as pathetic as her? Maybe you should. Maybe you both should. Why else do you think I keep you around? For your boring personalities? No. It's so I'll have two witches that I know will be loyal to me when shit hits the fan. But I can replace you just fine. The only people you and your useless grandma are irreplaceable to is each other. So if you don't give a shit about her, just keel over and die. Do it. Do it and know that your 'sister' couldn't care less."

Every angry tear that fell down Bonnie's cheeks was worse than being stabbed to death. It hurt. It hurt to cause her pain like that. She wanted nothing more than to rush over, pepper kisses on her forehead, and apologize until her vocal cords were sore. But it seemed to be working. Her nose was no longer bleeding. She was no longer coughing. Her breathing returned to normal. And she looked hurt. She looked very hurt. But if it meant keeping her alive, Angela could handle being hated for a couple hours.

Was this how Damon felt, all those times he tried to save Elena from certain death? Angela had forced herself not to think much about him ever since the Founders' Party. She didn't want to feel all the things she felt when she thought about him. She didn't want to feel the fear and panic and phantom ache that always appeared in her throat. But at that moment, she couldn't recall the last time she understood someone so much. Maybe she had been right, all that time ago. He was the only one who treated her the way she deserved to be treated, because he was the only one who saw that she was more like him than she cared to admit.

"You don't mean that." Bonnie's voice cracked towards the end, and Angela felt like dying. "I know you don't mean that. You can't."

"Yeah? If you die, you'll never find out."

Bonnie sniffled and removed her hands from the box. It was done. She was safe. "You. Don't. Mean. That."

Angela let out a ragged breath of relief and hurried over. "Of course I don't mean it, bunny." She cradled Bonnie's cheeks and wiped away a tear when it fell. "I mean none of it. I love you so much. So, so much. You and Sheila both. I don't know what I would do with myself if you ever died."

"But that felt—" Bonnie's face scrunched up in a silent sob. "There was something in there that felt so real."

"Nothing. Nothing about that was real. You own a piece of me."

"No, there was something. You were cold and calculating, and it felt real. You're not a good enough actress to make it seem that real."

"Not a good enough actress? Should I be offended?"

"Yes. You should. You should be very offended. You broke my heart."

She pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry. I couldn't think of another way to save you."

Bonnie pushed her away and slapped her arm. It actually kind of hurt. "Shut up. I saved myself."

For some reason, that response made her smile. "Yes. You did. You grew today. Your grams will be proud."

At the mention of her grandmother, Bonnie's eyes widened and she snatched the box. She reached out towards the latch, but stopped when her fingers were a hair's breadth away. "Angela… if this doesn't work, I'm going to murder someone."

Angela laughed. "Bonnie, if this doesn't work, I'll hide the body."

Bonnie looked ready to laugh as well, but was reining it in; either so she wouldn't be more disappointed if her attempt failed, or so she wouldn't give Angela the satisfaction of an accepted apology.

Bonnie's fingers met the latch. She twisted it. She twisted it. For real this time. As soon as it fell open with a tiny clink of metal against metal, Angela let out a squeal that Caroline could only ever dream of unleashing. Bonnie stayed staring at it in silent disbelief, before she moved her hand to flip open the lid. There, at the bottom, lay a thick, leather grimoire with the initials "E.B." etched on the front.

Bonnie picked it up as carefully as a priest would pick up a saint's bones, hooking a finger beneath the cover and uncovering the first page. It was empty, so she went to the second page. That one was not empty. Neither was the third, or the fourth, or all the others she managed to view before the tears started flowing again.

"It worked," Bonnie whispered. "It actually worked."

"Of course it did," Angela said gently. "You're a badass Bennett witch. You can do anything you set your mind to. Don't you ever forget that."

A groan came from behind.

Angela turned around to see an olive-toned hand reach up and massage the back of an olive-toned neck. "What the hell…" Elena hissed in pain and rolled her head to the side. It must have hurt to be slumped over for so long. Her features contorted in confusion when she saw them. "What happened?"

Bonnie grimaced. "I… kind of knocked you out, transformed the room into something out of Poltergeist, siphoned the magic from the box, nearly died, and opened Emily's grimoire so we can find a way to wake Grams up from her coma?"

Elena blinked once. Elena blinked twice. "Oh."

"Yeah. I hope you had a nice nap."

"Okay." There was a beat of silence. "Is that blood?"

After they finished recounting the chain of events, Tyler and Caroline woke up, and they had to recount it all over again. When there was an onslaught of anger and accusations hurled at Bonnie, the twins were forced to defend her, and calmed Tyler and Caroline down enough to agree to come with them to the hospital.

The entire car ride there, those two were quietly—or less quietly, in Caroline's case—seething in the back. They gained access to Sheila's room without issue, and after closing the door, Bonnie dug the grimoire out of her backpack.

"Do you even know which spell it is?" Tyler asked bitterly.

"No," Bonnie answered. "But I'm sure we'll figure it out."

"Wow, Bonnie," Caroline said. "Wish you had this sense of optimism before you took away our agency."

"Okay, can we relax here?" Elena said. "I don't like what she did either, but at the end of the day it's not that big a deal. We're fine, she's fine, and we actually have a shot at waking up Ms. Sheila now, so can we not get angry at her for trying to save a member of her family?"

Angela shrugged. "To be fair, if she was just a bit more powerful, she probably would have killed herself. So it kind of is a big deal."

Elena shot her a heated glare. "Not helping."

Caroline threw her arms up. "And that's another thing! Why are three out of the five people in this group so eager to sacrifice themselves? Are you all suicidal or something?"

Angela gestured towards herself. "When have I ever tried to sacrifice myself?"

"Oh please. You care more about keeping us happy than remembering to eat three times a day. And you!" She pointed at Elena. "Don't think I forgot what you told me at your parents' funeral. You're a hypocrite as well as a martyr."

Angela's eyebrows furrowed. "What, what did she tell you?"

"Caroline," Elena snapped. "Not now."

Caroline turned her entire body towards Angela, actively blocking Elena out. "She blames herself for what happened to your Mom and Dad too. She's just putting on a brave face because she thinks you have it worse and need to be coddled."

"Caroline!"

"So all those times that she said it wasn't your fault? What she really meant to say is that it was her fault. I mean, on some level it's kind of funny. You're both so eager to destroy yourselves for each other that you're too blind to realize you both hate yourselves."

"Caroline, that's enough," Tyler said. "Don't make this worse than it already is."

Caroline scoffed. "I'm just telling her the truth. That's what you like to hear, isn't it, Angie? The truth? Well the truth is, your sister is a complete wreck and you haven't even noticed." She picked her purse up off the clothing hanger and swung it over her shoulder. "I'm going to be late to a meeting with the beautification committee. Tell me if you manage to wake her up. Or don't. I mean, it's your choice, right, Bonnie?"

After she left them, nobody said a word. Angela stared at Elena, and Elena stared at the wall.

"Hey," Bonnie said quietly. She touched Elena's arm. "Are you okay?"

Elena swallowed thickly. "Yeah." She gave her a strained smile. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Angela said. "But we'll talk about this later. Right now, we need to focus on saving Sheila."

"Okay." Bonnie cleared her throat. "I, um, I found something that might be useful."

Tyler sighed in relief. "Thank fuck." He peered over her shoulder and scanned the page. "I'm guessing either Emily had the worst handwriting in the world, or that's a completely different language."

"Different language. Witches that trace their heritage back to the Mediterranean understand it instinctually. If anyone else tries to learn it, the letters rearrange themselves and become impossible to decipher. That way humans with ill intentions can't steal our knowledge."

Elena crossed her arms, seeming to almost hug herself as a way to calm down. "So what does it say?"

"Well, it seems like a pretty simple spell to undo, fortunately. I just need a bowl and something sharp."

Angela reached into her bag and brandished a pocket knife. "Here."

"Great. Now, where are we going to find a bowl?"

"I'll go get one," Tyler said, and was out the door before anyone could speak another word.

Angela huffed a laugh. "Subtle."

"Yeah…" Bonnie bit her lip. "Do you guys want some privacy? Should I go?"

"It's your grandma's room," Elena said. "If we want privacy, we'll be the ones to go."

"Maybe we should," Angela said. "At least, until Ty gets back. Have nothing better to do."

Elena hesitated. After glancing once more at Bonnie, she left the room, prompting Angela to go with her. She led her out the back of the building, where she sat down on a bench and immediately began to fidget, pushing some hair behind her ear and picking at the skin around her nails.

"Was that true?" Angela sat down beside her, making sure that her tone didn't come across as harsh or judgmental in any way. She wanted Elena to feel safe. "What Caroline said. Do you blame yourself for what happened to Mom and Dad?"

Elena took a shallow breath, refusing to look her in the eye. "I'm the one who suggested a movie night. I'm the one who said we should pick up food from the Grill."

"But I agreed."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't have had anything to agree to if I just let Dad cook like he always does." She froze. "Did. I'm the reason they were alone long enough for someone to…"

"But they weren't alone. Jeremy was there. If he didn't hide, who knows if he'd still be alive? If we were there, maybe we would have died too."

"You don't know that. You don't know what would have happened if I suggested a night out instead. In public. In a crowded place, where no one could hurt them without drawing attention. Or an overnight staycation at the motel. All you did was warn me. I'm the one who made the wrong choice."

Angela shook her head. "Christ, Elena, have you felt this way the whole time?" All she got in return was silence. "You don't have to hide things like this from me. I want you to feel like you can come to me about anything." She scowled at her lap. "And here I thought you were getting better. Caroline was right. I am blind."

"I have been getting better. Seeing you go through the same thing not once, but twice, made me realize that it's a pointless way to feel. It dimmed the guilt a bit. But that doesn't mean I can stop feeling it altogether. Because no matter which way you cut it, my choices led to their death."

"You know who else's choices led to their death? The monster that killed them. That's who we should blame. That's whose fault it is. You couldn't have possibly known that someone would break in and do what they did. Neither of us could have. It is a pointless way to feel. You're right. It's pointless to have regrets."

"No, it's not. Regrets are what keep us from becoming monsters too. We just have to learn how to regret and then move on."

Angela scoffed. "Yeah, and how do we do that?"

"Maybe we should ask Aunt Jenna. She's the one with the psychology degree."

"She'd just tell us to go to therapy." Angela paused. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. You should go to therapy."

"You should go to therapy too."

"Only if you let me borrow your girlfriend for her compulsion powers."

Elena's eyes went wide. "My what?"

"Relax, I'm only kidding. But for real though, when my blood left Stefan's system after the Penny thing, his abilities went back to zilch."

"Why would you need to compel someone anyway?"

"You think the only thing wrong with me is the guilt I feel over Mom, Dad, and Tanner? How am I supposed to explain Damon? How am I supposed to explain reincarnation? How am I supposed to explain not being able to consult anyone before doing half the things I do and the overwhelming loneliness I feel all the time forever?"

Elena clicked her tongue. "Yeah, okay, you've got a point. Guess I could talk to Jenna. Might as well get one of us some help. But… it's kind of scary, isn't it? Opening up to a total stranger like that."

"It would help Jeremy. Seeing one of his sisters take the same steps as him to heal would make him feel less alone."

"So I should be brave."

"So you should be brave. Like a superhero. Remember?"

"Yeah." Elena's eyes darkened. "I just can't believe Caroline would come out and tell everyone something so private. I trusted her and she stabbed me in the back."

"She gets mean when she gets hurt."

"That's not an excuse."

"I'm not saying it is. What she did was wrong."

"I should have never trusted her in the first place. I've always known how blabby she can be. I was vulnerable and in pain and it came out before I could stop it. Maybe I'm lucky she lasted this long."

"I can try to talk to her if you want, once she's calmed down. Tell her she needs to apologize."

"No. No, if she doesn't get that she needs to apologize on her own, there's no point in telling her. There's no point in telling her anything." Elena blinked back tears. "I hate her sometimes."

"Don't say that."

"I hate her sometimes. I know it's terrible, but I do. She can be so self-centered and cruel."

Angela's lips thinned. "I think she just has some growing up to do."

Elena scoffed. "Why are you defending her? You're supposed to be my sister, not hers."

"I'm not, I—" She cut herself off. Saying that she still saw Caroline as a child wouldn't help. Elena needed comfort. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Come here." She pulled Elena into a hug, and felt her melt into her arms. If all else fails, hug them. That was something she learned from her mother. She only hoped it worked as well when it came from her.

Their phones buzzed simultaneously, and it made them pull away. Tyler had returned. They were ready to undo the spell.

"Do you need some more time?" Angela asked.

Elena shook her head. "No, I'm good."

"Okay. But I'd appreciate it if you told me how you felt from now on. The last thing I want is for you to suffer in silence."

"I don't want to feel like a burden."

"You don't. You could never. I know it can be hard, but try not to fool yourself into thinking otherwise, okay?" Angela gave her a loving smile. "We'll get through this. Both of us. Together."

Elena returned the smile. "Yeah. Together."

They went back inside, and found Bonnie standing at the foot of the bed. She had a ceramic bowl in one hand and the pocket knife in the other. Tyler was holding the grimoire uncertainly, like he was afraid it would incinerate him if he so much as looked at it the wrong way.

"Great," Bonnie said when they closed the door. "You're here." She waved the bowl towards Elena. "Could you hold this?"

Elena took it delicately. "Should I be worried about what you're going to do with that knife?"

Bonnie gave her a bright grin. "Nope!" Without warning, she brought the knife down on her own hand, slicing her palm from thumb to pinky.

And immediately doubled over in pain.

"Fuck!" She clutched her injured hand as they all watched her in stunned silence. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my God! Fuck, that hurt! How could Grams do this without even flinching?"

"U—uh," Angela stuttered. "Maybe she cast a spell first. Did that once so fire wouldn't burn her."

Bonnie sucked air in through her teeth, her eyebrows drawn together in pain. "Fuck, you're probably right. Oh my God." Despite how excruciating it looked to move, she extended her arm and let the blood drip into the bowl. Angela rushed over to the cabinets and dug through their contents until she found a roll of gauze. As soon as Bonnie withdrew her hand, she wrapped it over the wound to try and stem the blood flow.

"You've been bleeding a lot today," Tyler said. "Is that normal?"

"Blood is powerful. Bring the grimoire closer."

He pulled a face of displeasure at having to continue touching it, but obeyed. With Bonnie's guidance, he flipped the grimoire to the page she needed, and when she asked, Elena handed the bowl back.

"Okay." Bonnie drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Are we ready?"

Elena nodded. "Only if you are."

Bonnie smiled, the pain momentarily vanishing from her features. "Yeah. I think I am."

She glanced at them all, as if seeking assurance, before bringing her hands out and focusing on the grimoire. The process was not as overwhelming as it had been last time. The blood swirled like a pond in the middle of a storm, the lights flickered suddenly, and there was a quick rush of air right before Bonnie stopped chanting, but no furniture flew about. No blood dripped down her nose. Nobody fell to the floor.

When it was finished, there was a moment where no one did anything. They all watched Sheila, who had yet to stir. Bonnie set the bowl down on top of a cabinet and went to her grandmother, sitting down on the bed beside her.

"Grams?" She nudged her with her uninjured hand. "Grams, are you awake?" Nothing. "Grams? Grams?" Panic washed over her face. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"I don't know," Angela said. "But I think I might have a solution." She withdrew the vial of blood.

"What's that?" Tyler asked. Elena and Bonnie already knew of its existence, but this was his first time seeing it.

"Vampire blood. Part of my bargain with Pearl. It's been itching to be used all day. Let me give it to her. Could kick start her consciousness."

Bonnie shook her head. "You know she doesn't like that kind of stuff."

"It's more for our sake than hers. We could always wait and see when she wakes up. Or… if she wakes up. It's up to you."

Bonnie looked at her wearily. "Have I ever told you how good you are at manipulating people?"

"You are too."

She sighed. "You do have a point though. If we got it wrong, the sooner we find out, the sooner we can fix it."

"So…"

"So do it."

Angela uncorked the vial and approached Sheila's prone form. Gently, she took hold of her chin and pried her lips apart. In her mind's eye, she saw Stefan doing this to Penny, and she guided the blood to trickle into Sheila's mouth. Too much too quickly and it could make her choke.

There was a moment where nothing changed. Then another. Then another.

Finally, the stillness of Sheila's body was broken by the moving of her throat, and the room filled with relief so strong Angela felt it tingling on her skin. Sheila's face twitched with a vague sense of confusion, and once all the blood was in her system, she sluggishly opened her eyes.

The first person she saw was Angela, since she had taken up most of her vision, but soon enough Angela was ushered out of the way by Bonnie, who grabbed Sheila's hands with a red-tinged nose and teary eyes.

"Grams?"

Sheila breathed in and out, and swallowed once. "Baby." A cough shook her body, and she weakly raised a hand to touch her throat.

Bonnie turned towards Elena. "Water."

Elena ran out of the room to get some, and in the meantime Tyler helped Sheila rise into a sitting position.

Sheila eyed his arms. "You're strong. Good. If not predictable." She coughed again, and Bonnie patted her back. It made her wince. "What the hell happened?"

By the time they caught her up to speed, Elena had come back with a bottle of water. "Here."

Sheila made to grab it, but its weight dragged her arm down to the bedsheet. "Christ," she muttered. "Must have been here a while to grow so weak."

"Almost an entire month," Bonnie said, opening the bottle and lifting it to Sheila's mouth.

Sheila made a small noise of acknowledgement before latching onto the water and beginning to chug it like a woman dying of thirst.

"Hey, hey, slow down." Bonnie observed her in concern. "You'll make yourself sick."

Sheila drew back with another small cough. Her breathing was deeper and steadier. "Tastes good though."

Bonnie smiled. "I know it does."

Sheila's eyes softened, and shaky as it was, she managed to lift her arm to touch Bonnie's cheek. She brushed her thumb back and forth, making Bonnie lean into her palm. "Is it just me, or have you gotten prettier since last I saw you?"

Bonnie held her hand in place so it wouldn't fall. "You want to know something weird? I think you've gotten prettier too."

"And you've gotten more powerful too, the way I hear it."

"I guess I have." She looked back at Tyler and the girls. "At least, they seem to think so."

The corner of Sheila's lip curved upward. "Then I think they are excellent judges of character."

Bonnie laughed. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. I could hear the world around me from time to time, but I saw none of it. Kept having these strange dreams filled with carriages and oversized skirts. Your face is a very welcome change." Her focus shifted to Angela. "And I heard you too. A couple times when you came alone and the one time you came with Bonnie. I appreciate that you didn't forget about me."

"How could I possibly forget about you?" Angela's smile felt oddly sad. "You were the first real friend I made."

Sheila's free hand rose, beckoning for her to take it. Angela clasped it between her palms, and tried to convey through that touch just how much it meant to her that she was awake and alive.

Tyler cleared his throat. "Should we call for a doctor? To make sure everything's fine, and to let us take you home."

Sheila huffed. "I don't even know if I can walk."

"You can try. If you start to fall, I can hold you up."

"Oh, big and strong indeed, huh?" She winked, and it made everybody chuckle. "Fine. I guess it's worth a shot. But after you get me out of here…" She slipped her hand out from between Angela's and pointed at her roughly. "You are telling me exactly what possessed you to drink an entire bottle of my precious whiskey."

---

Angela: idk if i should touch his face, that's kinda intimate.

Also Angela: let me whisper in his ear how i want him to make me scream, that's much better.

Our girl's a mess. Everyone's a mess, actually. Guess she fits right in.

But more importantly… Sheila's back! Ugh, I missed her so much. Can't wait to write her again.