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Edit: Sorry guys, FF is being dumb with notifications and links lately, so here's the re-upload! Please let me know if it works?
A/n: Hi Guys! I personally apologize for that cliffhanger; I know it wasn't nice but the temptation was too strong haha. But! To make it up to you, here's a new chapter full of drama out super fast, so buckle up, people.
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Induraturize: def. to make one's own heart hardened or resistant to someone's pleas or advances, or to the idea of love
Chapter 27: Who's Ready For A Revival?
What is up my lovelies? Have you been well? Having fun?
Because, I sure as hell am not.
Blinking, I realize that either everything is super dark, or I've gone blind. Did that old bat you call 'Grams' carve out your eyes?!?! Lettie exclaims from the deepest parts of my mind. Thank god, she's here still. I couldn't get through this alone.
Oh yeah.
Grams.
She tried to kill me.
It comes back in flashes, brief pictures of murder, blood, and pain all starring my innards. A painful twisting of regret and rage fill my stomach at the mention of her. Cold-blooded murder. By my own family member? Who I put on my Fantastic Four list? Thank heavens we did that linking spell or I'd actually be a goner.
We'll have to pay her a visit, Dahlia says coolly, neither passionate nor menacing.
Nodding, I grimace as I try to wiggle around but realize that my arms and legs are firmly placed, encased in velvet felt. Panicking, I start wriggling much more, feeling my strength rejuvenate as I run my hands along the sides of the prison I'm in, urgently pressing for some sort of out button.
Am I in a fucking coffin? Jesus, Bons. You knew I was coming back.
And that very moment is when I feel it.
Tracing my hand against one of the walls, I feel something fall out of a knick in the velvet. Stretching my arm further down, chest pressing hard against the velvet in front of me, I feel soil. My magic snaps back inside me, making me feel like electricity struck my hand, extending in and around me, deep into the soil, and there's a heady thrum from the Earth, calling out to me like a siren's song.
Oh, yeah.
This magical strength is unlike anything I've ever felt, wiring me deep into the magic of Mama Nature, and healing me. My full strength returning, I glare hard at the hard, unforgiving wall of velvet, not saying a word as I test out my own strength. The wall is blasted off with such force that it makes even me startle a bit.
The dirt pouring in doesn't bury me at all like I prepared for, instead, gently caressing me as it slowly lifts me into the light of day. Jesus Christ, why is the sunset so bright?
My eyes slowly adjust to the light, eventually greeted to the beautiful, sweet sound of birds chirping and a bright sunset shining on my face, shimmering hues of orange and pink igniting the sky, and I can't help but smile in relief. Wiping my face, I realize that not only are my cheeks racing with tears down my face, but there's lipstick on my hand.
Aw, they dressed us up for our funeral, how sweet, Dahlia chimes in, clearly chipper that the body holding her consciousness is alive and well.
Our funeral. Ugh. I take a deep inhale of that fresh air, slowly sitting up from the dirt and finding myself in the very familiar Mystic Falls cemetery. Glancing around, I see that it's barely winter; a light frost coating every blade of grass.
Good. Lettie hums, thoughtfully, before speaking again. That means most likely we've only been gone a short period of time.
Outstanding. My legs are finally ready to walk, and I wobbly stand on the very high heels in the grass. Glancing down allows me to see my death outfit, and I have to say, I'm okay with it, but I expected a bit better.
I stand in a high-slit, square neck, plum mididress, and even though it's clearly a little dusty, it's still somewhat suitable for walking around in public which I'm grateful for. Hearing a twig break somewhere behind me, I quickly spin around, only to be greeted by appearance of a cute guy in a biker jacket.
His eyes are wide and uncomplicated as he looks at me, every thought clearly visible on his face, plain for me to read. He's nervous, he's suspicious, and judging by the way he looks me up and down, either I look way hotter in this dress than I thought, or I have something on my face.
I almost forgot that normal people are very easy to read; not everyone had secrets to hide every second of every day. It makes them seem.. well, he's a rather pale comparison compared to the simmering man meat that has slowly trailed into this town as of late. And I do mean quality and quantity. If Klaus and his family were awake and in town, that opened my options even further.
The guy finally offers me a bit of a smile, approaching closer. "You alright? Do you need a ride?" He asks kindly, and I feel a polite smile work up my face at his generosity.
"Actually, yes, thank you!" I reply, my voice hoarse from lack of use, but altogether more chipper than I actually feel.
Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to be alive and breathing. However, I can't seem to find it in myself to be grateful; the endless, dark sense of absolute betrayal twisting inside me consistently since I've awoken is a bit distracting. I can't find it in myself to feel very merciful, either, for that matter.
My smile tightens slightly, but I know it's the only outward sign that I'm feeling a little more than my daily dose of fury and absolute heartbreak. The boy—Tony, I think, gestures towards his waiting motorcycle, and I can't help the smirk that works it's way on my face.
I want justice. I want liberation. I want vengeance.
And so, I know exactly where to go first. "Would you mind running me by Oliver Street? I need to go home," I add, and he nods once again, bobbing his head like a water toy.
Lovely.
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"Breaking news! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you're seeing it here, first, tonight. I'm Walter Scabber, your local reporter, and we're taking you live to 1422 Oliver Street where an inferno has consumed the house of Sheila—click!"
I had been gone for over a month.
Rolling my eyes, I turn off the TV, not super happy with how the news reporter is telling the tale, but oh well. I wonder if I have a fascination with arson, because it almost feels like my burning one down has been something I've threatened since the beginning of this mess. Turning to face the empty boardinghouse living room, I smirk at the poor, unconscious, biker boy laid out on the couch.
Don't worry, he's not dead—just knocked out. Couldn't have him snitching that I lit my house on fire, especially since he lent me his lighter for the spell. What a sweetheart, he didn't need to remember this. And just my luck, sweet little Oliver is a drifter, and an alcoholic, so he won't panic too much when he completely forgets today.
As you can see by the lack of important people present, my entrance was not as grand as I had hoped it would be, but I decided that it would be even better to wait here and surprise the main supernaturals in town. Also, odds were that Bons would come here first after hearing about the house, so it was a pretty perfect plan that also assisted me with the never ending twist of my stomach from all the magic inside me.
Spinning over to the jukebox, and very happy at how the high slit dress makes my right leg look, I quickly scroll the choices. Smiling fondly, I see 'Enjoy the Silence' by Anberlin, and I remember Damon.
Oh, Damon. The wildcard, the 'evil' brother, the bad boy. Also wears aprons that say 'Kiss the Cook' and loves to drink a strong cup of black coffee every morning.
My fingers trail the glass above the title, remembering the happy times of us dancing together on the banister, drunk, and half-naked, and reckless. I quickly press the small black button to select it, already swaying my hips as the first few chords ring out. God, music is great. Swaying and rocking as I breeze along the hard wood, I accidentally hip bump a side table, but grin as soon as I spot what's on it.
Alcohol.
Not one for subtlety, I take an entire decanter of the slushing amber liquid and take a long, fiery gulp, wincing slightly at the taste as I pull away. I continue to dance in the living room, spinning around and circling my hips in my 'kinda pretty, mostly sexy' dress like no one's watching since no one's watching.
This gets old pretty quickly, however, my brain getting overwhelmed by the sensation of spinning and moving and breathing. What an odd sensation in the chest it is when you have to actually focus to get air into both of your lungs. The bottle starts to feel heavy in my hand, and I gently set the glass container down on the drink stand yet again, pausing briefly when I see a quality envelope sitting primly besides another bottle.
Grabbing it, I can tell just by the weight of this envelope that this thing is quality parchment, and there's something inside. Pulling open the envelope I find a nicely folded invitation, adorned with embellishments and fancy fonts.
——
Klaus Mikaelson
Cordially invites the Salvatores and friends to a dinner tomorrow evening.
Let's have a chat.
——
Goddammit. Klaus is already fucking here.
I'm gonna kill Grams. Once I actually find her, anyway.
My eyes narrow on the words; Klaus sounds like he's vaguely threatening, and I couldn't help but wonder how badly my friends have fucked this up. Rolling my eyes at how stupid they could be sometimes, I flip the invite over revealing a date and address that I don't recognize, and I briefly wonder if this is what it's like to come out of a coma.
Which brought up another issue that I was finding: I can't remember anything.
No memories of the Other Side whatsoever, and it's nearly nerve-wrecking that I feel like I just passed out and woke up the next day when it's actually been a month. Was I ever even on the Other Side? Did a witch fuck with my head? Was I compromised? And what the fuck was wrong with Grams' eyes back then?
An involuntary shiver runs down my spine at the remembrance of how creepy she looked when I saw her last.
Why did she call me an 'abomination'?
Do you think she was possessed? Lettie asks, seemingly nervous to do so.
Personally, I don't know if I care, Lettie.
I know that sounds bad, and I completely agree that it's probably not a healthy mindset, but as it stands right now, that woman plunged a knife in my fucking intestines, so I don't feel like I owe it to her to assume she was innocent.
Guilty until proven innocent, Dahlia quotes, and I raise an eyebrow at who she could possibly be quoting.
Wait, no time for that.
This dinner has apparently started about ten minutes ago, and I could bet money that they were going to get in trouble. Groaning, I grab my heels from beside the left couch, whispering a quick, "Siednè," to keep sweet Tony asleep until I come back and deal with him. Throwing the pair over my shoulder, I swipe the keys from the boy's leather jacket, quickly hopping into his motorcycle.
Well, I've never driven a motorcycle, but hopefully what I saw Tony do would be effective enough.
And hopefully, Klaus wouldn't have his hybrids yet. I have the magic to deal with that, now that I'm full of the stuff for some reason, but I just pulled a Jesus.
I'm tired.
*
Standing a bit of a distance away from the manor, or at least about as far as Damon drove us from his house so Stefan couldn't hear, I realize that this address was for that foreclosure that we were taken to.
Huh, Dahlia hums, well, at least we're doing this in familiar territory. How are you going to do this?
Well, I'm thinking the ol' fashioned dramatic entrance in the middle of their dinner should be fine, but—
My thought cuts off when I feel an intense sense of hurry roll down my spine. My intuition was screaming at me that something was about to go horribly wrong. Taking a sharp inhale at the strange sensation, my eyes snap to the house when I sense magic swirling inside tumultuously.
Bons.
I see her in my mind clear as day, olive green eyes and sweet smile. My baby sister. The sweeping feeling of my juiced-up magic overwhelms me for the first time in 7 years, and I feel myself dissipating slowly, almost becoming a part of the wind. Then, I can feel everything.
The Himalayan mountains, a woman blowing on her microwave dinner in Minneapolis, a plane flying over the Atlantic. It was almost as if my consciousness itself had merged with the wind, and everything was a haze until I finally sensed Bons inside. Time is frozen, Bonnie's eyes wide with fear and shock as a vampire launches himself at her, lunging at her throat.
I can see the man hovering in the midair, and somehow I have a physical being again. It's so strange, I can sense other people wherever this is, but everything else is cloaked in darkness outside of the vamp and her. I step in front of her, opening my palm to take the brunt of the hit as time shifts from a complete stop, slowly transitioning back into the normal tempo of time. As everything starts to move once again, the darkness retreats, revealing a very nice dining room filled with the supernatural.
My assumed crew is all present: Caroline, Damon, Stefan, Elena, Katherine, and Elijah. Not focusing too much on them for now, mostly because now is not a good time to grieve my own death, I spot Klaus at the head of the table.
He's just as pretty as in the first timeline, and I do not in anyway blame Caroline for being swayed his way sometimes. I'm sure a lot of women would love to be swayed by that British accent, stormy blue eyes, and those adorable blond curls, she should count herself lucky.
Now, here's the insane part: Kol Mikaelson is here.
Dark, wicked eyes and a devilish grin to match, the man is devastatingly handsome and clearly fifty shades of coo coo for Cocoa Puffs.
It's always the cutest ones that are really fucking nuts.
He appears just as amused as his brother that my sister is about to be murdered by this nobody vamp. Speaking of the vamp, time is almost back to normal as his body continues to slowly climb the arch to murdering my sister, and I see his eyes widen in shock at seeing me in front of Bons.
Okay, Alessia, Lettie warns in my mind as the vamp gets closer, to where he's almost a foot away from my outstretched palm. Your magic is still really strong, so, you need to be caref-
The sudden blast of magic from my hand not only hits the vamp, it crushes him up against the nearest wall, blood splattering all over it. This not only created a lot of noise and dust, but it also included a sizeable dent in the wall as time finally came back to its regular pacing.
A chorus of gasps and a girly scream ring out from around the room, but I don't look at the others, just continue to look at the blood and muscle and bone running down the wall.
"Whoops," I say unintentionally, blinking in surprise that human bodies can even look like that when you hit them hard enough. He looks like a fucking modern painting.
A small part of me is concerned that I don't seem to care that I've murdered someone this violently, but I can't seem to care about that either. Odd.
Everyone is blinking up at me like I'm an apparition, like I shouldn't be there.
"Oh," I quickly say, and the pair of brothers look at me even more shocked and confused as to why the hell 'Dahlia' is here.
"That was an accident, my bad," I sheepishly apologize with a shrug of my shoulders, "And don't worry about them. They're freaking out because I was dead. No biggie. But, I'm gonna advise against you touching my sister again," I add nonchalantly, my eyes narrowing dangerously towards the end, "I'd hate to give a repeat performance of Pollock over there, but I'm open to it if necessary."
"What trickery is this, Elijah?" Klaus growls out, thinly veiled fury glowing bright in his eyes. "This is low, especially for you."
A stunned Elijah blinks at me once, then twice, not looking away from my form as he answers, "This is no deception of mine, brother. I could ask you both that same very question."
Rolling my eyes, I put a hand on my hip. "Not a trick," I sigh, glancing over at Klaus and Kol first to quickly make intros, "Alessia Bennett, reincarnation of Dahlia. Nice to meetcha," then, I turn back to Elijah, "And considering I broke out of my own grave tonight, I'm gonna say this isn't a deception. Now, I need to borrow my sister and my friend if you'll excuse us."
I reach behind me not looking, quickly finding Bons' fingers with mine before I reach over the table grabbing Caroline's hand, also not really looking at her. I know the second I look at their faces, I'll be distracted, and the most important thing is to get the people I care about out of here, find out what the fuck happened while I was gone, and fix it.
Focusing as quickly as witch-ily possible when the Mikaelson brothers all stand, I picture us three disappearing into the wind and expanding once again. We vanish presumably, because that sensation of omnipresence is felt again in my chest before melting completely into the visage of the Salvatore boardinghouse's living room.
All it takes is a blink and suddenly we're all physical again, holding hands in their living room. Letting out a quiet laugh as adrenaline pumps through my veins, I can't believe how strong I am right now. Whatever brought this on was more than welcome to stay if it meant I always felt like this.
Hearing a stifled sob besides me, I remember that I've just actually appeared via teleportation in front of people who thought I was dead for like a month.
That might've been a bit classless of me.
Slowly turning to my left, I put on a sheepish smile in front of my crying little sister, who's looking at me like I'm a hallucination.
Tears streaming down her bronzed cheeks, I see Bons' jaw tighten momentarily as she looks at me. "Lessy?" She whispers, and I give her a small nod. She starts running her hands through her hair, voice shaky, "I-I... How is this h-happening, Lessy? What happened to you in the first place?! You were gone. I saw you. I buried you. How are you here right now? And how did you just teleport us?"
Reaching for her, I understand when she takes a small step back, still suspicious of my identity. I think hard for a memory that only I would know, to help reassure her that I'm not some weird loopholed trick.
"Uh... When you were 13 and I was 14, I was bored and playing with one of Grams' lighters," I see recognition flare up in her eyes, shock returning slowly. "I was burning strands of my hair because they would puff up when I did, but I accidentally caught your baby blanket that was under the TV on fire. Grams was knocked out on the couch behind me, and I put out the fire and ran to you, asking where I should hide it. And you told me to hide it in Grams' lingerie drawer since she never opened it anyway."
Hearing Caroline choke on a watery laugh behind me, I turn to face my favorite blonde hurricane.
"Hey, chica. How's my unofficial sister?" I ask quietly, and she lets out another watery laugh as tears roll down her pretty, rosy cheeks, quickly rushing me and squeezing me tightly.
"I don't care why you're here, Aless," she sobs into my neck, squeezing me nearly to death, but I just rub her back soothingly as I hug her tightly back. "I'm just so glad to see you. I missed you so much."
She continues to cry in my shoulder, and I turn to glance at Bons, finding her trying her best not to breakdown and looking awful guilty for some reason. Her lips are drawn tight, her fists clenched, and I mentally promise myself to make Grams' death all the more painful for separating us at all.
Raising my only free arm, I offer it to her to join in on a little group hug action. I can see her struggle with herself for a moment, debating, before she rushes over to complete our triad. Feeling their arms around me is so soothing, and I'm just so relieved to have my favorites back with me.
They continue to cry for ten or so minutes as I console them, when Caroline looks up curiously at me with her tear-stained cornflower blues.
"Geez, Aless. I know you're a rock, but you can say you missed us too, you know?" She suggests semi-jokingly, clearly a bit concerned at my lack of a reaction. Bonnie's head slowly raises from Caroline's now-wet shoulder, glancing up at me suspiciously.
"Lessy," she starts, and I don't know what they're going on about. "What the hell was with making that vampire into a wall smoothie? Where'd you get that kind of magic?"
Shrugging nonchalantly since I had no clue, I feel like my mouth is dry so I walk over and pour myself some bourbon into a glass for myself. I feel both of their concerned gazes follow me as I down my drink.
"Are you feeling okay, Aless?" Caroline asks slowly, like she's trying not to piss me off.
Downing the two shots and refilling the glass before I answer, I look back at them with an insincere smile. "I'm feeling better than I have since ever. Not every day your grandma kills you and you wake up in a coffin a month later."
"What?" Bons snaps immediately, eyes wide and completely shocked into horror at what I've just said. She looks like she's going to be sick. "Lessy, you.. you were killed by werewolves, not Grams."
No one must've found out who actually killed us, Dahlia supplies, and nod slightly at her logic.
Now I'm also a little pissed that my murder wasn't avenged, either. I was slowly but surely becoming a near-exploding, suppressed volcano of rage.
Oh god, I'm becoming Tyler.
Taking a large gulp of my drink as my anger grows, I can't say I'm surprised that Grams covered it up. Whether or not she was possessed, she must've realized this was a death certificate if the others found out what she had done to me. Damon at least would've killed her for me, I think.
"Nope. That's a lie. But, I won't say that I don't wish that was the case."
Bonnie's gaze grows sharp at my indifference, stiffening her shoulders angrily. "What the hell is wrong with you, Lessy? Do you think your death was a joke?"
Rolling my eyes at how much of a buzzkill she's being, I finish off the glass with a smack of my lips.
"Of course not. Why do you think I burned the house down? Speaking of which, have you seen Grams anywhere? I'm still pretty pissed, if I'm honest."
Caroline gasps and Bons' mouth drops open in shock, and I'm not understanding the problem.
"Alessia," Caroline starts, approaching me slowly like I'm a dangerous animal, "Please say that you're playing a mean joke right now."
The dark hate that has been swirling inside of me all day spikes violently in irritation, making me accidentally crush the glass in my hand, the glass burying itself deep in my skin. Are they taking Grams' side? Why is my brain responding like this? I don't even feel the shards of glass as they're pushed out by my magic, healing the skin after as I just give Care Bear a blasé look.
"I would never joke about this. The woman gutted me like a pig with the kitchen knife I got her last Christmas, so sorry if my initial reaction was a little violent."
Their eyes are now extremely worried, and even I start thinking about it. I don't feel normal.
I feel an all-consuming hatred, I feel apathetic, I feel content with my group, and that's all. Well, outside of feeling like my magic is about to explode out of my skin. How strange. I'm not even worried about coming to this realization.
Well, this can't be good for us, Lettie unhelpfully adds.
Something must've gone horribly wrong when I died.
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A/n: Yikes. What do you all think is happening?
Thank you all so much for reading my stories and commenting, and I hope you've enjoyed the latest chapter. Buckle up because things are about to get crazy!
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