I'm sorry you are who again?!
Summary: Elena Gilbert is the 22 year old sister of 18 year old Isabella Gilbert…or is she? After the sacrifice that Isabella did Elena's mind starts to crack and fracture so she takes a road trip to find the answers and what happens next will forever change.
AN: This story was sort of inspired by my other story idea (chapter 39) in which Elena and Tatia are the same person as well as Siphoners/Heretics (I like the idea of her as that for some reason)
Intro/Chapter 0: Memories
Elena Gilbert couldn't stop rubbing her temples as dreams-or memories-began to invade her mind and all of them were of a certain old vampire who she was falling for.
Closing her eyes, she groaned as the sounds of Alaric snoring next door bustled through, Jeremy scribbling in his notebooks and Isabella's cries began to annoy her to the point that she just decided to go on a lonely road trip by herself.
Packing up, she sent a mass of texts to her sister, brother and Alaric as well as their friends saying that she needed 'time alone' along side 'an adventure'.
She went into her Subaru and began driving away.
It took her three days to enter New Orleans and as she walked down through the Quarter her head began to hurt more than ever.
A dark skinned hand touched her shoulder and as she looked at him, his eyes widened.
"You're back," he whispered softly before her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
"Do you know how to chase someone?" She whispered to the man beside her. "Or we can go to the lake and swim perhaps?" He smiled and pulled her into his arms, pinning her between him and the tree near the lake. "What are you-" she managed to get out before he kissed her. Her fingers tangled through his hair as his calloused fingers were deftly undoing her laces and she moaned.
She was sitting in the rose garden in 1492 as she caught one of her sisters in law kissing her descendant Katerina Petrova, the woman moaning as they hid deeper in the rose garden before her eyes caught her husband's dark ones and she giggled. Standing up, she walked over to him and he kissed the top of her head.
"Je t'aime ma belle fleur," he whispered in French. "I love you wife."
"I love you husband."
The dark skinned boy was laying beside her as she told him a story about brave Viking warriors and beautiful princesses when the boy whispered, "goodnight mama," before his eyes shut and his breathing evened out. She smiled as her fingers went through his hair and her eyes met that of her husband's. He was leaning against the doorway, looking at ease before he walked into the room.
"He's the perfect fit for our family darling," she whispered softly. "A possible key to his redemption."
"I agree love," he whispered as he kissed her.
Marcel Gerard was a nervous wreck as he had asked the entire French Quarter witches to help him with the woman who collapsed in his arms, as he knew who she was.
The question remained though-did she know or was she remembering?
He watched as the elders had some of the girls gather around her, holding hands and chanting.
He shouldn't have slacked off in the Latin teachings she gave him but the appeal of spending time with her brother in law and being taught Shakespeare was appealing…until he slaughtered the troupe.
Once the coven was done, her eyes opened and were flashing with anger.
"Marcellus?" She asked softly and he looked at her, smiling. "Find me Sage. The bitch is going to pay for what she did as well as her accomplices-though one member of that family is dead."
"Mama," he whispered reverently. "You're back mama!" He felt like a child again as he hugged her, his face in her hair.
She may have been married to the man who wasn't his adopted father but she was the only mother figure in his life.
"I'm back little warrior," she answered softly. "I'm back and wanting revenge."
"I'll have my guys search here for Sage but if she's not here then locator spells will have to do," he told her.
"That's fine," she told him before kissing his cheek. "Go rule the city for now," she looked down at her clothes with disgust. "I need a wardrobe change."
The trip from New Orleans to Chicago was short and as she watched her husband's sisters walk off with Stefan Salvatore (she inwardly cringed at the thought of him with her newest descendant) and Klaus Mikaelson before making her next move.
Slinking into one of the coffins, she managed to get the dagger out and as she laid in it, she placed her finger in the vampire's mouth to keep him silent while shutting the coffin lid.
The process of waking up, looking at the satin of his coffin made him angry but when he noticed the finger in his mouth, the anger turned to confusion and he turned his head to see Elena Gilbert in a knee length purple dress complete with capped sleeves.
She shook her head and pressed her lips to his cheek to whisper, "I don't know who else is out there but no one knows I'm here and waking you up."
He wanted to say something but the finger in his mouth made it hard so he listened and heard a heartbeat coming from nearby that wasn't Elena's. His eyes narrowed as the heartbeat was coming closer and when Elena pulled her finger out, the heartbeat was right there.
He didn't care as the coffin's lid opened; he sat up and began to drink from the man who ended up nearly dead from the lack of blood. He turned to the woman in his coffin with a raised eyebrow and she smirked.
"There is a lot that you need to remember and thankfully I have the keycode for it," she told him as she got out. Walking over to him she whispered to his lips, "belle fleur" when his mind began slotting memories in place. "Hello darling."
He grinned and kissed her, pressing her back into his coffin as he covered her front with his.
"It's been ninety six years," he growled and nuzzled her neck. "Ninety six years of loneliness and now that you're back…I'm not letting go."
"You felt something for me before the memories came flooding back," she whispered. "I did for you."
"It was why I said that I'd protect you from Klaus and not Isabella," he admitted. "I'd only protect you. Always and forever."
They managed to sneak away to Pennsylvania-more importantly Willoughby-and she smiled widely as he led her to a gazebo, remembering the last time they were in a gazebo and just how steamy it got between them.
"So care to tell me what happened?" He asked as he leaned against one of the pillars of the gazebo as she stood across from him.
"What happens when you catch Sage and Kol in the middle of a bed in a cemetery while trying to work the kinks out of making a gold dagger?" She asked and when she pointed to her head, she moved her fingers in a circular motion. "Memories and suppression. Forced to portray a Siphoner when the reality is that I'm the Original Heretic. The Cursed One." Her eyes glittered. "Mary-Alice Claire is dead as is Astrid Malchance and the only living Claires alive are Davina and her mother."
"What do you want done my love?" He asked as he stalked towards her, his eyes on her petite frame and she grinned.
"Make them all realize that cursing me was the worst decision of their lives."