Pistanthrophobia: def. the fear of trusting someone
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Chapter 32: Everybody Makes Mistakes; Everybody Has Those Days.
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There are some moments in life where it's important to take a stand.
A point where one must own up to their mistakes, acknowledging them, and finding closure in it. Where you have to face the consequences of your own reckless actions and promise to do better.
This was not one of those times.
Panicking, I hear Kol at my front door, opening it and starting to head towards the bedroom with his adorable British accent that only spelled doom for me; and just as that happens, Damon starts to blink awake blearily, squinting as his eyes adjust to the now-sunlit room.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. What do we do??
Why did I even sleep with Damon? I hate Damon! Oh my god, there is way too much to unload here for me to come up with a rational way to explain the naked Salvatore in my bed. How am I supposed to explain what I don't understand myself?
Oh, god, what have we done? Lettie loudly asks in my mind—but, I quickly shake off what she says, focusing.
Pause.
Not dealing with the emotional repercussions of it right now.
In this moment, I'm so glad that I don't have any kind of moral quandary, because I make a split second decision that gets me out of there.
Closing my eyes, I quickly think of the closest nearby safe place to be a naked woman, remembering the sensation of scattering into millions of atoms along the breeze. Heart pounding, the last thing I see when I open my eyes again is Damon sitting up in the bed, watching me disappear with wide eyes.
And then, I'm gone.
Scattered amongst the cosmos until I find my center, reshaping back into reality. I have to blink once or twice to readjust to the sudden nearly-dimensional shift, and when I do, I realize where my adrenaline addled brain has dropped me: Caroline Forbes' bedroom.
I was such a moron.
Duh. My brain still thinks of this as my 'Code: Red' safe space. Of course in a panic it thought of here as a safe base.
Furrowing my brows, I try to reorient myself, trying to adjust from an absolutely insane scenario into another one— when suddenly, her bedroom door swings open. I yelp, covering up my naughty bits as cornflower blue eyes widen cartoonishly at me, Caroline yelping back in fright before rapidly blinking.
Realizing that Caroline must've just gotten out of the shower, she rounds slamming her door closed before leaning against it, toothbrush in her mouth as she looks at me in shock.
"Jesus Christ, Aless! You scared me half to death!" She whisper-yells, suddenly blinking widely at my naked state once again, as if she just remembered it again.
She rapidly spins around, grabbing the yellow fluffy bathrobe from the hook behind her door and tossing it to me before narrowing her eyes.
"Are those hickies?" Care asks incredulously.
Quickly throwing on the bathrobe, I self-consciously cross my arms across my now-fluffy yellow chest. Thinking quickly, I realize that I've thrown a golden opportunity my own way.
Obviously, I needed to figure some things out— because, as it stands right now, my head and heart is scrambled all over the place. I have no idea what emotions are turned on or turned off, and frankly, I'm pretty sure I'm losing my mind.
My sleeping with Damon made absolutely no sense to me, especially with how my brain was wired currently— and that was precisely the problem.
My brain wasn't like it normally would be, and nothing was lining up. My feelings for Damon were pretty much made null and void the second he decided to keep me in the ditch— so why did I fuck Damon?
And why can't I remember any of it? I wasn't hungover, so I wasn't that drunk.
I have no idea, Lettie added.
I wonder what could've happened, Dahlia ponders.
Either way, didn't matter. The main issue was that if I was compromised, there was no way I'd be able to properly track Grams or kill Elena Gilbert. So, a vacation was in order.
What? If I can't be dealing with group drama until I give myself brain surgery, I can't be in Mystic Falls at all.
There was no way the Brothers Mikaelson and the Brothers Salvatore would leave me alone for enough time to find out what is wrong with my head. They'd either do something that makes me have to stop halfway through, or they'd try and do something to me while I was out of commission— so, not only did I need to be gone, I needed someone to watch over me.
The list of people who I could take with me was surprisingly short: only two people. And the other one would keep the first in check since she hated her. If she ended up being a flight risk, then so be it. At least I'd know for sure that she was lying.
"Do you really want to make up with me?" I ask firmly, looking her deeply in her cornflower blue eyes for any sign of deception.
Caroline stiffened, watching me for a moment. She knew what I was asking her.
How far are you willing to go?
Her cornflower blue eyes were conflicted, thin brows furrowing as she thought seriously about what I was asking.
How much is our friendship worth to you?
After another moment or two, she closes her eyes, doing a deep exhale as if praying God for forgiveness already. Opening her eyes to look at me, my ex-blonde watches me earnestly before slowly nodding— already a silent agreement.
"I would do anything for things to be like they were, Aless," her eyes start to water and her long lashes blink rapidly in an attempt to fight them off.
Trying not to let myself get my hopes up at a redemption arc, I give her a small smile and an awkward nod. "Good. Pack your shit, chica. We're going to New Orleans."
Blue eyes widen cartoonishly.
"What?"
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8 HOURS LATER
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"Well, I can easily say that when we started this junior year, I did not think we three would be in this car," Caroline sighs from the backseat. "And when's it my turn to drive?"
Vicki Donovan gives Care a look through the rear view mirror, brown hair blowing in the breeze as the sun beamed down on their 2009 Lamborghini Gallardo.
"When you compel yourself a luxury car, Blondie," she calls back over the pop music flowing from the stereo, turning to give me a look as well before gesturing to my feet on the dashboard.
Groaning before setting my boots back on the floorboard, I give Vicki side-eye.
"Ugh, I didn't know that you when you're sober is such a fucking fuddy dud. What's the point of the cool vampire powers if you don't properly use them to do whatever you want?"
Vicki grins wickedly, like she has a juicy secret.
"Oh, trust me. I do," she says after a moment, "I just like to keep my nose clean when I'm not in the city. Marcel says that if we fuck up within quarter bounds, then he can help if we get in trouble. I don't do anything that bad, but it's nice to have your king in your pocket. As soon as we're back, I'll show you what a great time New Orleans can be for two vampires and a mega-witch."
Pushing one of my wind-whipped curls out of my face as we take another curve of highway, I smile playfully at her, "Ooh, Marcellus Gerard. Sounds like a vampire king to me."
Caroline's blonde head suddenly pops in from the space between mine and Vicki's seats, looking at us both curiously before asking, "So, is the vampire monarchy a thing in every city? Like is that something I need to be worried about when I finally become an actress? Or..?"
"Depends where you are," Vicki called back, "Different supernaturals deal with their power struggles in different ways. I happen to like the monarchy so far, but it'll fail eventually."
Shrugging, because she's not wrong, I lean my head back against the seat. We three had been driving for about seven hours now, and we'd still have at least another six to go— but, god, if running away from my problems didn't feel fantastic right now.
Why had I always been facing my problems directly?
Like, clearly, directly was quicker—but, this was saving what little was left of my sanity. Also, when was the last time I had actually taken a vacation? I hadn't taken a breather of this whole supernatural thing since I was born. I was tired. This was so much more relaxing.
Is this how normal people feel? Unburdened by the weight of what's predestined; where you get to wake up in the morning, go to work, go to sleep, and one day, die a less than important death. There was a certain beauty to an unimportant existence, one where life was simple. If I hadn't been born a Bennett, maybe this could've been my life every day.
Easy Breezy.
Where I wouldn't constantly be running to keep up with immortal vampires with daddy issues.
That could've been nice.
You know, at first I didn't understand the whole 'Rebekah wants to be human' thing, but I think I finally get it. I would've most of the time preferred the plethora of issues affecting teenagers today— like drug addiction and teen pregnancy— over all of this bullshit.
Wow, never thought I'd say that I'd actually rather be pregnant right now.
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2 HOURS LATER
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Pulling out of the McDonald's drive thru with over 50 worth of food and shakes, I pull the now-roofed car out of the rest stop, proceeding to line back up with the rest of traffic into the highway.
Caroline starts passing the fried sustenance around the car, sorting through the bags to get everyone's drinks set up in their cup holders. The woman had a system, and with the help of vampire speed, she had separated all of our orders to where Vicki had all her food, and Caroline had mine and hers on her lap and on the middle. Groaning, she suddenly moves to pull something out of her pocket.
Her phone continues to buzz, and she rolls her pretty blue eyes at whoever is calling.
"Aless, can we please just answer one phone call so they leave us alone?"
Glancing down at the clock on the dashboard as I switch over to the fast lane, barely pressing my toe and having the Lamborghini speed up graciously, I shoot Caroline a look. They hadn't stopped calling since four hours ago, and they sun was set now into the early evening hours.
"How many calls is that now? And who's actually calling?" I ask, opening my spicy chicken sandwich on my lap and taking a bite into the warm meaty goodness.
She starts scrolling down, and Vicki leans over in the backseat to watch her over her shoulder, ever the snoop.
"We've got four missed calls from Elena, six from Stefan, twelve from Bons, and for some reason, Damon called like twenty times— make that twenty one," she adds, blue light illuminating her pretty face as her phone begins to buzz once again.
Groaning, I roll my eyes.
"Fine. Remember everyone: where we're going, or why. We are seeing no one with nobody doing nothing nowhere. Capisce?" I firmly command the car, my voice not joking at all.
"In all fairness, you haven't told me why we're going yet," Vicki replies nonchalantly, and I roll my eyes as I see Caroline nod to me firmly.
So far, so good.
Caroline hadn't tried to message them our location behind my back, she hasn't tried to shoot any smoke signals saying where we are. As much as I hate to admit it, there's a small, nearly-dead part of me that hope she stays loyal. The blonde hurricane picks up the phone close to the last ring, putting it on speaker for us all to hear.
"What do you want, Damon? You guys need to quit blowing up my phone. I'm busy," she snaps, and I can't help but smirk a bit at her acting skills.
"Oh no, you're not, Blondie," Damon snaps back from the phone, voice snarling. "Where the fuck is Alessia?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Damon," Caroline replies in a mock-sweet tone, her queen bee shining through brilliantly as her eyes narrowed on her phone venomously, "You mean my best friend who wants nothing to do with me because I let you all pressure me? What makes you think she's even talking to me— let alone, that I'd know where she is?"
Suddenly, there's a disruption on the phone call, as if someone has snatched the phone away from Damon.
"Well, Caroline, that'd be because I have a witch watching you from your phone, right now," a British tone finally crones, and my glare snaps to the phone as I recognize Klaus' threatening purr.
Damn, I forgot to spell the fucking phone.
Well, at least while it was in the very-spelled car, they wouldn't be able to trace our location— I had basically warded myself off every other way. And there was no way that weakling, Greta, or her family of nobody witches was going to breakthrough those boundaries. So, who cared if they could see us on this nowhere highway at night— maybe it'd get my point across much more clearly.
"Hello, Klaus," I greet noncommittally, not saying anything as Vicki leaned further back against the backseat and out of sight.
I'd guess that even if the Quarter hasn't seen the Originals in a minute, they still talk about them, and I didn't blame Vicki for not wanting to suffer with me. I felt a bit mean not telling her all of what she was getting into, but I needed protection in New Orleans and she was my only connection. New Orleans was the only place with enough vampire-power to keep Klaus at bay for a few weeks, at least. Or, that's how long it took in the first timeline anyway, but really I didn't have a lot of places left to run to.
Also, Grams hiding out in New Orleans is the second place I'd guess after Mystic Falls, especially since she has Esther's coffin, and after my brain gets fixed I could permanently fix that information leak.
"Hello, love," Klaus greets back, and I can tell he's not smiling, "Mind telling me where you think you're running off to? We had a bargain."
"No can do, Wolfman," I hit back, not bothering with the pleasantries since he was already pissed. "My head is acting funny, and that's more important to me than your coffin."
"You will not win this. Come back now before I turn your town into my personal bonfire," he threatens and my eyes narrow.
"Roast some marshmallows for me. They can burn for all I care," I reply, still thoroughly nonplussed at the idea of other people dying because of me. "But, after— when all of the embers settle— I still won't be there. And I'll have nothing that I'd have to come back home to. You don't scare me. If KitKat could run from you for five hundred years, I bet I could definitely make it to the end of my normal human lifespan."
Caroline's blue eyes widen, but I shoot her a pulse of my magic to tell her to chill without letting Klaus see. I was bluffing for the most part, but anyone Caroline cared about I could magic to safety in case Klaus meant what he said.
He might. Nik tends to mean what he says, he's always been honest. Him and Eli both, Dahlia sighs in my mind, and I smile wickedly inside when she does.
Sighing, I nonchalantly glance back over towards the phone, wondering who all could possibly be watching me through it. Obviously, Damon was there, so that'd be good enough for what I had planned.
"Oh, by the way," I add, in a bored tone to offset from the importance of the information I'm giving them— one of my best kept secrets, "Dahlia says 'she misses you and Eli.' How funny is that? Oh, and Damon, Lettie says 'go fuck yourself.'"
There is absolute silence on the other end.
Perfect.
"I wonder if they can see what I see," I speculate out loud as the silence drones on, wanting to make my point clear.
"I mean, they are both inside my head, but I've never asked how much they can feel. I bet Dahlia would love to see a city burn."
Ugh, I love moments like these. Pulling the wool off of other people's eyes was damn near cathartic when you were threatening them. I had an ace up my sleeve: whatever relationship Lettie and Dahlia had with the Brothers Mikaelson and the Brothers Salvatore.
It was obvious that both sides of the fence were clearly looking for these girls when they looked at me, so I'd use it against them.
"You're lying," Klaus snarls on the other line, and I notice out of the corner of my eye that the car behind me is seriously riding my ass.
Pressing a bit harder on the gas, my eyes narrow when the black sedan behind me also speeds up getting awful close to our bumper. On a two-lane highway. That's not normal.
"Caroline, hang up the phone," I mutter as I press harder into the gas pedal, going upwards towards 110mph and the black sedan behind us effortlessly trailing behind.
Okay, now that wasn't normal.
Caroline isn't paying attention to me, instead looking out the back window with wide blue eyes as she lets out a shriek, the sedan slamming into the rear of the Lamborghini and sending us lurching forwards roughly. My forehead smacks against the steering wheel as Vicki yells, smacking against the back of the passenger's seat.
"FUCK!" I yell in pain, grasping my now-throbbing skull as I put my foot on the gas, using my magic to boost it even faster until we pull off of the fender of the black sedan.
"What the bloody hell is going on?!" Klaus yells from the line, but I can barely hear him, trying to focus my magic enough to blow out their engine, but finding strong magic protecting it.
"Vicki! Duffel bag!" I shout to the back, and thankfully, the green eyes vampire is quick on the uptake, quickly unzipping the bag.
I guess she's been busy in New Orleans, Lettie notes as Vicki doesn't even flinch at the weapons in there, instead just grabbing a handful of stakes and rolling down her window.
She leans out, narrowing her gaze before aiming for one of the tires, but missing.
Suddenly, several loud pings sound off of the metal of the car, and I narrow my eyes in confusion, pedal to the metal, when suddenly there's a hole in the windshield. Oh my fucking god, they're shooting at us.
"Now would be a good time to hit the damn tire, Vicki!" I snap, rapidly swerving to miss another rear end bump. Vicki is half-out the window, gripping the 'oh-shit' handle for dear life as it's the only thing keeping her up.
"If it's so fucking easy— you do it, Bennett!" She screams back, this time aiming and hitting whoever is in the passenger side through the windshield, making blood splatter on the tinted inside of the windshield.
Ew.
"Alessia, where are you?!" I hear Damon through the now gunfire-less car.
Oh good, she hit the shooter.
"HANG UP THE FUCKING PHONE, CAROLINE!!" Me and Vicki yell in tandem, and my blonde finally snaps out of her fear freeze, hanging up the phone.
Now, we can at least maybe die without being mansplained to our final breaths. Cornflower blue eyes rapidly scan the duffel bag as I swerve to avoid yet another hit, the driver clearly becoming more desperate to run us off the road. Caroline finds whatever she's looking for, rolling down her window just as Vicki climbs in to reload on stakes.
Leaning out, I see that Caroline is holding a fucking machete.
Glancing rapidly between her and the car, I think to myself, No, Caroline wouldn't try to projectile throw a fucking machete from the passenger side window of a car moving over 150mph down a highway.
But, that's exactly what she does.
And somehow it fucking works.
I watch the machete slide through the metal grates in the front of the car straight into the engine, making the sedan explode almost on impact. The explosion launches the car forward by a shit ton, and I see Caroline fling out of the window like a bug.
"CAROLINE!!" I shriek as the car rocks, tumbles, and rolls to a stop on the empty night highway.
I feel the rapid spinning of gravity as the car nears the ground and quickly move my magic to shield Vicki and I. When it finally makes impact, the sensation rocks my head, but not nearly as badly as it should have as it slowly rolled to a stop, upside down in the middle of the highway.
The minute I get my head back in semi-working order, I'm trying to escape the confines of the wrecked luxury car, using my magic to bend and twist the metal around us to make a gaping hole in the side of the car. Sliding out of my seatbelt, I groan at the gross sticky feeling of all of our spilled milkshakes and some blood. Nothing too bad, little scratches and bruises— fixable.
As I crawl out of the car onto the road, I try to reorient myself. I have to find Caroline. Slowly sitting up on my knees, I glance around the wreckage on the road, I start to cough at the smell of burning metal and gasoline, seeing Vicki drag herself out of the car, then lying face-first on the gravel, coughing and gasping herself.
"That... fucking.. sucked, Bennett," she says between coughs, not even caring that she's laying on the street.
"Agreed," I mutter after a moment, still scanning around for a blonde head in all of the wreckage as my vision starts to stop spinning, when I spot the remains of the black sedan. It lays on its back, too, ominously off to the side of the highway amongst sparse shrubs and grass.
Hearing a gust of wind approach, I see the lovely Caroline standing in front of us, looking no worse for wear than her hair being messed up and having a bit of blood on her shirt.
"That was..," she starts, looking at me down on the ground seriously before breaking into a smile, "Epic! Did you see us?? We were like Charlie's Angels for reals, Aless!!"
Chuckling in disbelief at my blonde friend as she extends two hands down to help us both up, I shake my head at how refreshingly positive she is. I had missed it, if I was honest. I was a bit of a Negative Nellie, and she had always helped to give me some perspective at the craziest moments.
Yeah, this life sucked balls— but there were things you got to do as a supernatural that no one else got to. My life isn't boring.
Tragic, pretty funny, altogether very dramatic— but, never boring.
And that's when there's a shuffle of metal over in the distance, over by the black sedan.
All three of us narrow our eyes, and I look at Caroline, silently asking her to grab whoever the fuck that was. She nods, letting go of our hands and turning her heeled bootie to vamp speed over to the black sedan, not caring at all as she pulled off the passenger side door and tossed it to the side. Reaching in, I see her grab a leg, proceeding to drag the bloody whoever-it-was behind her along the hard gravel.
She drops who I see is a man in front of me, wearing a brown sack with a symbol burned into its forehead— a sigil. I see a stake piercing his thigh, denoting his identity as the bastard who had been shooting at us. Standing, I glare down at the bastard as I twist my magic to make him painfully sit on his knees in front of me, driving the stake further in.
Reaching down as he yowls in pain, I grab the top of the hood and yank it off.
A harsh flurry of rage, hate, and overall pissed attitude floods me, and the waning moon that had been beaming down on us slowly gets covered by a darkening sky as I glare down into all too familiar caramel eyes. Caroline gasps and covers her mouth, and I see Vicki stiffen when she sees who it is.
"Well. Hello, dad," I greet mock-cheerfully as I squat down to meet his firm, but worried gaze head-on.
Grabbing the bloody stake sticking out of his thigh, I threaten to twist it several times, enjoying his wince each time until finally I give it a hard wrench clockwise.
He cries out in pain, glaring fiercely at me as if I wasn't his own daughter. Well, in all fairness, I am torturing him for information. Good to see that my feelings towards family haven't changed since I've come up.
"I'd say I'm happy to see you, but that doesn't really express how euphoric I am to have you here with me," I say after a moment, politely smiling at him as I still my hand. "However, your femoral artery has been hit, and there's no way you're coming back from that without my help. So, let's talk."
Gripping the collar of his black turtleneck, I yank my father up like the weakling he is, snarling venomously at him as my magic started to twist the stake further.
"Where is Sheila Bennett?"
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A/n: Hey guys! I know big surprise that it's here so soon, but I didn't want people to quit my story! Thank you for all of your comments and support on this and all of my other books!
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