Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries nor its characters. They belong to L.J. Smith, Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, The CW Network, and whoever else.

Note/Warning: This was written between episodes eighteen and nineteen to help me deal with the lack of Anna. So the fact that she's never physically in this story is perhaps ironic, or maybe simply odd, but I was still quite happy with this. Fairly AU now though. References to Jeremy/Vicki and Anna/Ben.

Almost Tangible

The night air was cold and damp. The moisture in the air left by the rain was insidious, creeping in through their layers of clothing. The three of them shivered together; Tyler hid it, Caroline didn't bother, and Jeremy wasn't even aware.

At first it had just been Caroline sitting outside the Donovan's back door. She needed air, she had weakly whispered before slipping past the oblivious pair of Matt and Elena, the kitchen table where Jeremy and Tyler were sitting with nothing to say.

Then came Jeremy. He found he needed the air too.

A few minutes later Tyler joined them.

They sat in silence - not comfortable, not uncomfortable, it was just there. It hung like a curtain between them as they weathered the cold, the seats of their pants getting damp as they sat cross-legged on the carport.

It was frigid outside, and they were all likely to catch pneumonia, but it was better than staying inside. All the awkward looks, the silent crying, the sharp, intense - tangible - grief that was suffocating any who felt useless and unnecessary. They weren't related, they had no comfort to offer - hell, could Tyler or Jeremy even truly claim to be a boyfriend, or were they just two favorites?

So they sat there, freezing their butts off, staring off into themselves and muddled memories.

Caroline was the one to break the silence. Tyler and Jeremy didn't really notice when she started shaking - they were all shaking, it was damn cold - but then the strangled sobs snapped them out of their thoughts. Caroline hugged herself, sitting in between the two boys, trying so hard not to make any noise as she wept. She was failing miserably, but they didn't fault her.

Jeremy sat a little closer. He put his hand on her shoulder, awkward. He remembered how awkward Caroline had been at his parents' funeral but how hard she had tried to be kind. He'd glared at her then. He felt like a dick now; he didn't have the foggiest clue how to handle this either.

Tyler stared, silent, jaw clenched. Then he moved closer as well. He placed a hand on her other shoulder. "Look, it didn't mean anything. Matt's just, confused," he offered, rather lamely.

Well, least he had something to offer. Jeremy chewed on the inside of his left cheek, but he moved his hand in what he hoped was a soothing motion. He remembered his mother doing that for him when he was younger, and it had always helped.

Thoughts of his mother, his father, Vicki...Jeremy wanted to join Caroline and cry with her.

"It isn't that," Caroline choked out. She hiccupped, wiped her nose.

Tyler blinked and looked at a loss of what to say.

Caroline then moaned and pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them tightly. "Okay, maybe it's partly that." She sniffled and struggled to control herself as the two boys rubbed her shoulders. She glanced at them both, red-faced, puffy-eyed. "I'm the one who found her."

Tyler and Jeremy exchanged looks over the back of Caroline's head as rested her head on her knees, sobbing renewed with her confession. They hadn't heard that detail yet. Both boys struggled to find words of comfort, but what could you say to make that go away? To even dull it?

Jeremy hesitated, then he pulled Caroline over and wrapped both arms around her. He glanced at Tyler who sat there numbly, at a complete loss, while Caroline seemed to sink into him. Her arms slid around, grateful for the hug, and began to soak the left side of Jeremy's jacket.

"I didn't even see her at first, I was just trying to climb up and then I grabbed her hand and she was buried under all these leaves and..."Caroline trailed off, becoming incoherent as she cried harder, shaking almost spasmodically in Jeremy's arms. She stayed like that for a while.

Jeremy held her, crying a little himself.

Tyler turned his head away and stared off into the distance. Every so often he would look to the side, and when he would stare ahead again, Jeremy swore the other teen's cheek was wet.

The silence came back, and they sat like that for a long time.

Vicki's dead.

The thought kept floating in his head, drowning any other thought his weary mind could conjure up. Theories, suspicions, memories, hopes, dreams - every fucking thing was drowned out by the deafening revelation.

Vicki's dead.

He wanted to break something. He wanted to rip something apart, make something hurt. He hurt. He was ripped apart on the inside. He was so tired, so fucking tired of the ones around him dying.

Mom is dead.

Dad is dead.

Vicki is dead.

Jeremy choked on a scream. Somehow this almost felt worse. This grief, this shock to his system. It was like waking up from a dream where there's hope, there's a chance...it had hurt when his parents had died. But the moment he'd received the news like a punch to the gut, he'd known there was no hope. He'd known there was no second chance.

Vicki...just when he'd begun to believe, just when his world had shifted and possibilities were endless - now a dead end came up behind the curve without a warning, and he'd derailed. He was drowning under the weight of his shattered dreams.

He went to his desk, he grabbed the articles. He ripped, he shredded - break something, destroy something, have some fucking control over something! He grabbed the old newspaper, ready to rip it half. He paused, the picture of Vicki staring back at him - happy, smiling, healthy.

Jeremy remembered the last time she'd looked like that. Wearing his shirt, draping herself over his bed, warning him that they were busted. His jaw clenched as he tried to remember after that, tried to remember the next time she'd been in his bed - she'd been sick, hadn't she? He blinked and felt tears trickling, but he couldn't recall anything except her coming to him later, healthy - happy? - but drifting away.

She was like a ghost, whispering to him through the fog. It was his last memory of her, but every time he brought it up behind his eyes, it seemed more and more distant than all the others.

"Don't worry about me, Jeremy. I've got to bail. I'm not meant for this town. Tell Matt I love him."

He'd believed her, because he knew it was exactly how she felt. He'd believed she was out there, finally free of the life she'd convinced herself she was stuck in. He'd even begun to believe she was a vampire, that she'd been turned and it had freed her. He'd really believed it. Because of...

"What are you doing?"

Because of Anna.

"I'm sorry-"

She was gone.

A cold breeze gently pushed at the curtains. The room was quickly losing warmth.

She was gone.

Who was he even thinking about?

Jeremy walked over to close the window. He'd forgotten. In all the confusion, the shock, the utter pain of it all he'd forgotten Anna's change of heart. He reached the window, hands resting on the top of the frame. He shivered and stared out into the dark.

Well, he'd fucked that up, hadn't he?

Not that it mattered any more. Right?

Suddenly he couldn't remember why he had wanted to be turned in the first place. All he could think of was Vicki, his parents - dead. Why did the people he cared about keep dying? Did he need to worry about Elena and Jenna now? Would he lose them too?

Wouldn't he have lost them if Anna had turned him? Wouldn't he have left them, searching for Vicki, just so he could know she was okay, just so he could see if there was a chance, if she'd left to protect him or because she didn't want him?

Wouldn't he have left Anna high and dry?

Jeremy felt sick. He felt dirty. He'd used Anna, and she knew it. But all thoughts of guilt faded as the haze of his grief clouded them over. His thoughts turned selfish, angry. He didn't need to feel guilty, not right now. After what he'd lost, why should he feel bad for someone else?

It was Anna's fault, anyway. She'd come along, offering him hope, offering him impossibilities. She'd wormed her way into his life, stubborn and cute and refusing to be ignored or brushed aside. She'd set herself up for this fall, he'd tried to warn her.

He'd told her, given her all the signs.

It was her fault. Flaunting eternal life in his face, immortality, purpose; meaning. All her fault, so why should he feel bad?

But then it hadn't been Anna who'd instigated the kiss. It hadn't been Anna's idea to meet at the party. It hadn't been Anna who'd cut his hand. It hadn't been Anna's desire to turn him.

Something was missing. Something had been missing since his parents' death. He'd thought, for a short time after Vicki left - after Vicki's death, she's dead, Vicki's dead - that he was moving on, that he was filling that void as he got his life back on track.

He'd been wrong. No matter what he did, it was there. Anna had wormed herself into the hole, but she didn't quite fill it up. He felt like someone had come and stolen something out of him, something that could never be replaced. It felt the most intense when he thought about Vicki, and then Anna...the hope she'd given him.

All those fucking possibilities.

Maybe she deserved the hurt he'd caused her. It wasn't like she hadn't known there was someone - someone gone, but someone he still felt. It wasn't like he'd really lied to her. Left a few little details out, important ones, but he was pretty damn sure she had her own secrets.

Being a vampire hadn't been something she'd meant for him to know. She was going to keep it all to herself.

Jeremy's fingers gripped the window frame, knuckles white. He wanted Anna to hurt. He hurt, she should hurt. She was the reason he'd begun to hope again in the first place.

Shit, he didn't like thinking that way. His mind was taking him to a familiar dark place, and he didn't want to go there again. He let go, left the window open, and collapsed onto his bed. He stared at the spot Anna had been standing, remembered the times Vicki would sneak in through the same window.

Jeremy finally just let go and cried. He stopped trying to focus on anything other than the pain, all the bitter memories of Vicki, of his parents, and cried. He could figure things out in the morning.

But he really was sorry.

The days went by in a fog. Vicki was taken to the morgue. Cause of death was found. There was a memorial service the next evening, the funeral was the morning after. Both were sponsored by the Founders' Council, lending a helping hand to the grieving - and flat broke - Donovan family.

Jeremy felt like he was in a daze. He felt distant, as if he was detached from everyone. There was some kind of barrier between himself and everyone around him. He vaguely remembered feeling something similar when his parents died, but this isolation was in some ways less painful and in others more confusing.

It wasn't something completely new and foreign. This loss, this ache. The empty and awkward atmosphere wasn't so overwhelming. But now he knew things, things he wasn't supposed to know. He knew there was more to this life than being born, going through the motions, being laid in the ground. Was there an afterlife? If vampires existed, did God? Did Heaven, Hell?

He wasn't religious, and he didn't pray. This newly shattered world he was barely getting to know wasn't going to change him into that kind of person. But he hoped, somewhere in the back of his mind.

Let them be okay. Let them be happy. Let Vicki for once be clean and happy with herself.

Jeremy wasn't sure if he believed on those hopes, but he couldn't let go of them either. The sharpness of the pain was fading, faster than it had with his parents. Getting used to the routine, maybe? He sure as hell hoped not. But he was almost glad. He didn't want to just move on, just forget about her, but he couldn't let Vicki's loss drag him back to that dark place he'd let himself drown in. He'd let the loss of his parents do that, let things with Vicki fuck him up more, and somehow he'd been able to pull through. He couldn't go back now.

So he didn't think about her loss. He didn't think about how fast the pain was fading. He didn't think about how much it had hurt when his parents had died, and he didn't let himself think about Anna.

After everything else, the last thing he needed was to think about losing his one and only friend - all because of his own selfishness. If anything could break the thin string holding him up from the abyss of abuse and merciful highs, it was thinking about how he'd been the one to screw things up. Guilt trips were the worst to get over.

It might not have been so bad if he had someone to talk to. But if he dwelled on that, he started on the guilt trips. He was never close to Jenna - and he'd ditched the one time she'd tried to bond and help him. He wasn't sure he even knew Elena anymore, and she was busy being there for Matt. He couldn't talk to Anna because...

So Jeremy found something else to occupy his thoughts. Something that would keep his mind from focusing and festering on the fading pain, the dull yet constant ache, the empty places in his life where people he loved used to be.

It was still Vicki's death he was focused on. But it was something specific, something Caroline had mentioned in between sobs the night she'd found Vicki's body.

Official cause of death was overdose. The town believed it. Everyone knew she was a junkie. It didn't really come as a shock, probably half the school had already assumed that was the cause. But it just didn't sit right with Jeremy.

How would a girl, dead from an overdose, wind up buried way out in the woods? Someone had to bury her. That meant there was a chance it wasn't suicide or an accident - neither of which Jeremy could bring himself to believe anyway.

He kept his thoughts to himself, but he dwelled on them. He couldn't help it.

Not even Uncle John visiting could disperse these thoughts of conspiracy and murder. Though a part of him was glad to see the man. He knew Elena and Jenna weren't fond of him - he wasn't really sure why - but he was happy. Uncle John was family, and Jeremy needed family right now. Maybe if he got himself together, maybe he if got his thoughts organized enough he could even talk to his uncle about all of this.

Then again, even if he was happy to see his uncle, that didn't mean he knew the man very well. And John didn't really know Vicki, he might not even remember her as anything other than the sister of Elena's ex-boyfriend, Matt.

Was there really anybody he could talk to about this, someone who might listen, who might give a damn?

Jeremy sighed. He felt lost.

Tyler sat down next to him. He looked as lost as Jeremy felt.

Well, Jeremy supposed there was at least one person.

He was truly alone.

Jeremy felt the familiar urge to find something and break it overwhelm him. He reread the same lines over and over. Repeating them in his head, trying to make sense of them. Trying to make them his own, force erased memories back into existence.

How could she? How could Elena do this to him? How could she let them get away with it all?

He didn't understand how all of this could have happened, how he could have been there, both audience and player and yet every time his brow furrowed in concentration, nothing came. Nothing but the ghost of a memory that wasn't even real - just some illusion Damon Salvatore had put into his head.

The bastard had acted dumb as Jeremy talked to Sheriff Forbes.

As much as Jeremy wanted to break something - or drive a stake through one of the Salvatores - he knew he wasn't thinking rationally. He had to avoid that dark place. He needed to know more.

The dirty, guilty feeling that had wrenched his gut at the first inkling of this idea - reading his sister's journal, invading her privacy like this - was now gone without a trace.

Jeremy continued to read, searching for more answers, searching for something that might could trigger a lost piece of his life. He read as fast as he could, he knew he didn't have much time. Yet he couldn't put Elena's journal down, like reading some awful yet fascinating horror story. All this time, his sister had known everything - and had kept him trapped in the dark.

She'd lied straight to his face. Not even Anna had done that. At least Anna had an excuse - fear, fear of exposure, fear of being hunted - but his sister had not only lied to him but asked a vampire to manipulate his own mind against him.

His fingers gripped the journal tighter than necessary. He almost ripped a few of the pages. And then a name popped up, one he hadn't expected to see in here.

Anna?

Jeremy swallowed, sat up straight. He hadn't expected Elena to be the source of answers to some of the mysteries still surrounding Anna, but here were her words, giving him more information than he'd even imagined. His vision blurred again, and he was hit with another sharp pain of betrayal.

Everyone around him knew things, kept things from him, and he was so fucking sick of it.

When he finally finished the journal Jeremy couldn't control himself. He threw it across the room, the loud thud giving him a small measure of satisfaction. He sat back, and ran a hand through his hair. Eyes closed and jaw clenched, he knew if he didn't get out of there soon he would ruin his sister's room and he couldn't handle confronting her tonight. He simply couldn't handle that. Yet.

He stood and walked over to the journal. He picked it up and took it back to its hiding spot, carefully placing it there and making certain everything was exactly as it had been when he came in. One of the pictures on Elena's mirror caught his eye and he walked over, staring at these unfamiliar people.

His parents, his sister, himself. He wasn't sure he knew any of them anymore.

Jeremy headed back into his room. He pulled out his sketchpad, staring at his drawing of a vampire. A monster. He'd thought maybe he was wrong, but now...he wasn't so sure.

'Vicki was a monster.'

No. That wasn't true. Vicki wasn't a monster; hedonistic, selfish, and self-destructive, but not a monster. She was just weak, easily susceptible. Lost.

"Lost."

Jeremy blinked, sitting down at his desk. He tore the piece of paper from its pad and stared at the vampiric monstrosity he'd conjured up in his naive mind. He tried to see Vicki in it, and he couldn't. He tried to see Anna in it. He couldn't.

"Maybe I'm a sucker for guys like you."

"Like what?"

"Lost."

Would he have been like Vicki if Anna had turned him? Would he have hurt the ones he loved, because he wasn't strong enough? Because he wouldn't listen to those around him? Too stubborn yet too weak-willed to make it in the long run?

So many questions left, and so many answers he desperately needed. For the first time since the night Vicki had been found, Jeremy pulled his phone out, and began to text the only person he wanted to turn to.

'I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. But I need to know. Was Ben lost too?'

For a moment his finger hovered over the send button. Would she even bother to respond? Would she be angry with him for mentioning this Ben; did she miss him? He was almost angry at her, worried that maybe he'd been a replacement for this Ben. Then he snorted at himself. What a hypocrite. Maybe this was how he'd made her feel.

Jeremy hit the send button. He needed to know, and she wasn't going to come to him first.

"Please, don't shut me out."

This was a bad idea, Jeremy knew it. But who was he to listen to reason? He had cut his hand open around a vampire - just to prove his theory. He obviously wasn't afraid of staring the wolf in the eye when he couldn't find any other option. Now was no different.

Besides, Tyler had been the one to come to him last. Hell, he'd held out a peace offering of sorts. Even if Tyler had been increasingly erratic lately, things were at their calmest between the two of them.

Jeremy just hoped this didn't change that. After all, his timing couldn't have been worse.

Tyler was sitting on the bleachers, staring at the football field but Jeremy had a feeling that the familiar turf wasn't what Tyler was seeing at the moment. He'd been silent and avoiding everyone all day. He hadn't even tried to go near Matt, and Matt had done nothing but cast occasional confused glares Tyler's way.

"Just because Vick's dead doesn't mean we're going to become BFFs," Tyler stated when Jeremy reached the bleachers.

"What about yesterday?"

Tyler glanced at him, then shrugged and leaned over, resting his arms on his knees. "Didn't mean anything. I want to bury the hatchet, for Vicki. Figured she would have wanted it, and I owe her." He swallowed and shook his head. "Still getting used to past tense."

Jeremy looked down. He knew the feeling. "You're right." He glanced at the field. It hadn't hurt as much as he'd feared, admitting Tyler was right about something. "I don't have any friends. I almost did have one. But now I think I might have really screwed that up."

Tyler rolled his eyes and looked over at him. "And I care because?"

Jeremy sighed. "Well, frankly, because you seem to be the master of acting like a dick but still keeping the girl," he snapped back. He held up his hands afterwards when Tyler's jaw clenched. "No offense. I actually kind of wanted your advice about that."

The older boy snorted and shook his head. "It isn't that easy. I'm the mayor's son. I'm rich. I'm a jerk, a dick, asshole, douche, whatever term you want to use. But the girls I get involved with, that's what they want. They want the status and the bad boy, and Vicki wasn't any different. You and I both know it." He looked down, thoughtful. "Not that it's any excuse for the way I treated her." Tyler stood and came down from the bleachers. "You want my advice? Do the exact opposite of what I'd do. Beg. Crawl on hands and knees. Cause I've got a feeling I know who this girl is, and I can tell you now that any other words of wisdom I offer won't work on her."

Well, that was helpful.

Jeremy sighed and crossed his arms, staring at the field. "No, she isn't anything like Vicki. But now I'm not so sure she's who I thought she was."

Tyler shrugged. "What girl is?"

Jeremy glanced at Tyler but kept his mouth shut. He wasn't about to admit twice in one day that the guy was right.

As soon as he'd stepped into his room Jeremy knew she'd been there. It wasn't because he instantly noticed the old journal on his desk. Or because he felt the cool breeze the moment he'd walked into the room. It was just something in the air. Something almost tangible.

He looked around, hoping she might still be there. Disappointment quickly filled him. Her presence lingered, but Anna was gone. Jeremy's shoulders slumped slightly as he walked over, closing the window. He took another look around then room.

That was when he noticed the journal.

Jeremy walked over to his desk, staring at the open book lying on the top. A few paragraphs in the journal had been underlined, and a note lay next to it. He stared at the piece of paper for several long moments before he finally gathered up the guts to read it. He gently picked it up, taking in every word.

'I won't bother asking how you found out about Ben. But yes. He was lost. He was a number one though. Had he lived, we would have parted ways. He didn't need or want a guide, despite infatuation making him think otherwise. You were different. You made me want to find another way, a different road to walk. With you. Gilbert men must be a weakness for my bloodline.

Anna.'

Jeremy slammed the hand holding the note onto his desk. You fucking idiot. He fell into his seat and held his head in his hands. He'd ruined his second chance, because he'd been too stupid to realize that his second chance was with someone new.

The note lay crumpled by the journal. Jeremy looked at it, at the neatness of her handwriting, at the almost delicate way she signed her name. He looked from the note to the journal. Then he blinked, staring at the red ink she'd used for her note that matched the red ink used to underline almost a whole page's worth of his ancestor's thoughts.

"You want me to read this." Jeremy picked up the journal and stood. He made sure both doors were locked before sitting on the edge of his bed to read whatever it was about Jonathan Gilbert that Anna wanted him to know.

'Devils have many guises, and they can be beautiful. Was Satan himself not once the angel of light? It should come as no surprise that the most beautiful woman I had set eyes on was one of the demons that plagued our town. Oh, how I wish it weren't so, but the compass cannot lie. It pointed straight to her, and the fear of being exposed overtook her face.

'She pleaded with me, sweet and pitiful cries for mercy, playing on my affections no doubt. She knew of my fondness and hoped to use it against me, but I held strong. It was not something I found to be an easy task, and there is still a fierce pain. But it is the bitter sting of betrayal.

'We will soon have them all, and we will rid the earth of these demons. Pearl will be no different, and I will quietly mourn her damned soul.

'But for now we search for her daughter. Is the girl even truly her child? An innocent she stole from some poor, bereaved mother? We are not even sure the child is one of the demons herself. Perhaps little Annabelle is nothing but the innocent lamb she appears to be. Yet after finding beautiful Pearl to be one of these creatures, I cannot help but suspect that her daughter is another of these wolves in disguise.'

"Annabelle?" Jeremy stared at the name, swallowing and letting the implications sink in. He set the journal down, walked over to his desk and smoothed out Anna's note. He reread the last line, one of her little clues. He stumbled back to his bed and sat down, picking the journal back up and staring at it, then Anna's note. He remembered Elena's diary mentioning Anna wanting to save her mother from the tomb, but to find the truth from Anna herself, to discover the hurt his own blood had caused her - it was different, it was fresh.

Anna had lied and used him. She'd threatened his life, but maybe now with everything that had happened...maybe they were even. She hadn't used her powers against him. She hadn't killed him, or made him forget. She hadn't really betrayed him.

She wasn't who he'd thought she was, but he wasn't so positive that was a bad thing.

Maybe Tyler really was right again.

Jeremy grabbed his phone, fingers quickly typing up a message. 'We need to talk. Let me say I'm sorry to your face. Don't shut me out, Anna. I wasn't lying. I don't have anything else. Except you.' This time his finger didn't hesitate over the send button. He quickly hit it and sat there, staring, waiting. Trying to will her to reply to him; say no, say yes, even a fucking maybe.

The phone buzzed, vibrating in his hand as the screen lit up. He quickly brought up her message. He slowly smiled.

'Meet me at the Grill. We'll see where it goes from there.'