A/N: Thank you, as always, to everyone who has followed, faved, and reviewed. I love you all.
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Caroline was visibly on top of the world, and remained so throughout the school day even with Mrs. Barton insisting that the stuffed animal should really be in her locker (as if it would fit) or Tanner deciding to teach everyone football plays. There had been a lot of hugs passed around, and a sense of general cheer ebbed and flowed throughout their classmates. Bonnie and Matt had both given Cynthia thumbs up and a high five respectively, and Elena had smugly told her that she had done well.
Still the only one in their group without after school commitments – aside from maybe Jeremy? – Cynthia idled around the school for a brief time, contemplating the list of clubs and extracurriculars. Would she actually have time for anything along with all the hot vampire mess anyway?
Shaking it off, she made her way to the Grill, not quite ready to update John on the whole Salvatore situation just yet. Elena and Stefan might break the news at any time, even with the warning about John being on the town council, but she could hope for the best. Besides, it was Friday night, Care was going to be visiting her dad tomorrow, and now that a quarter of the school had been reminded there was something worth celebrating, the local hang out spot was bursting with life. It was easy to claim a booth, order a shake, and people watch while she doodled on her homework.
"Hey, mind if I sit with you?" Looking up in confusion, Cynthia was humbled at the sudden reminder that she'd miscalculated, however mildly. She was not, in fact, the only person without a sport, job, or club immediately after school. "Sure. I'd say pull up a seat, but…" The girl shrugged a little and grinned. "Waiting on Bonnie?"
Luka took the seat across from her, his own smile bright. "My dad, actually. Although I may try and stay for this party. I've heard you guys shouldn't be underestimated."
Cynthia was fairly sure the teens here partied a bit too hard, but Luka liked Bonnie, even if he was potentially keeping an eye on her. She was fairly certain the boy would treat the Bennett witch the way she deserved.
"I don't know about all that. I do know that anyone who underestimates our BonBon does so at their own risk." Including herself. Which was a morbid line of thought, one Luka hadn't followed her down. He clasped his hands on top of the table and watched her with a puzzling amount of earnestness.
So the girl paused, leaned back, and eyed him in return. "Are you here to tell me I don't spend enough time with Bonnie too? Because I've about had it with people telling me how I should spend my time. She's a wonderful person; I don't hate her; I'm not secretly feuding or holding anything against her… I just like different things and people and… solitude."
That didn't quite go the way Cynthia had hoped it would, the words feeling clunky and wrong on her lips.
"No… nothing like that," Luka said slowly, a little warily even, given she had definitely overreacted in her nervousness. "I was just hoping to get to know some of Bonnie's friends better. She cares a lot about you and your sister." She could see his head tilt slightly and gave up her pretense of focusing on homework. "Someone thinks you aren't spending enough time with Bonnie?"
She did, a little bit. If Cynthia 1.0 was really a friend to Bonnie, then objectively, she probably seemed unfairly standoffish. Unless Bonnie really was primarily besties with Elena and Caroline? No one knew that she felt comfortable asking right now, and Bonnie might be too selfless a character to call Cynthia out over something that only affect her personally.
"Not that they've said, but she and my twin very dramatically told me I'd been ignoring Elena. And those two are like peas in a pod, so if they think I'm ignoring one of them, I feel like… they think I'm ignoring both."
"I don't think Bonnie sees it like that. She's a remarkably empathetic person." Yes, and she deserved much better friends. "She speaks highly of you. You don't need to feel so guilty."
Feeling quite called out, Cynthia ducked her head and tried to look like she was focused on her homework. Luka either wasn't fooled or was determined to follow his own agenda regardless, because he pressed further still. "It was really sweet what you did for Caroline. Bonnie said it was nice to see you acting more like yourself."
"Myself, huh?" She didn't break her pencil lead, but with the way this conversation kept going, that felt like a miracle. "Who would that be?"
Was she still Cynthia Gallagher? Or was she more Cynthia Gilbert?
"You tell me," was the warlock's easy going response.
Unsettled she might be, but Cynthia was not going to be backing down. Instead, she leaned in closer to Luka before dramatically whispering, "I… am obnoxious."
She straightened up just as the warlock mildly informed her that he could believe that, and clasped her chest in false horror before breaking into laughter. When Dr. Martin joined them then, it was to a rather jovial scene. Folding away her homework so the two could actually have some family time or relax together or whatever their plan was.
"This is your dad?" She prompted, it wasn't really a question given she recognized the man to some degree, and he had walked right over to them. But Cynthia wanted to minimize her blunders at least a little bit.
"Dr. Martin," the elder warlock held out his hand in greeting, "Dr. Jonas Martin."
Accepting his hand, she watched his expression with interest. Unlike Bonnie, he didn't freeze, far more accustomed to what he did or did not perceive. "Your hands are freezing."
Cynthia rubbed her hands together with a briefly apologetic expression, then shrugged her shoulders minutely. "Cold is a state of mind." Not the best line to come up with, but the bland expression in the doctor's eyes hadn't gotten any more threatening, or changed at all really. "I should let you two go. I mean, I probably ought to wash off the school day and pay for this." It was getting dark anyway. She grabbed her now half empty shake along with the rest of her things before making a quick exit.
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A shower turned out to be a marvelous idea. It didn't wash away her anxiety, but it wasn't magic. Standing in front of Dr. Martin and holding his hand had reminded Cynthia of how he'd treated Bonnie in the show, a fellow witch.
The last thing she wanted was to get on his bad side, and Cynthia was not in the mood to test his reaction to her any further than she already had.
She still wasn't sure she wanted to test Sheila Bennett much further, but if the woman hadn't been asking about her then she might not consider her too much of a threat. Cynthia made a mental note to ask Bonnie for her Grams' phone number. Calling might be marginally less terrifying than going in person.
And yes, she was very aware of the irony that she was less afraid of the undead than she was of Nature's servants.
Sheila said she'd never met her, but John recognized her, and surely he was on vervain. So perhaps the woman really had been speaking of her soul.
"You planning on coming out of there ever, Gilbert? Or should I send a search party?" Vicki Donovan had apparently seen fit to rejoin the Gilbert household. Lucky them. Cynthia seethed quietly, but reminded herself that unlike Vick, she wasn't having to work to pay electricity or water bills, not thinking too much about the girl's arrival otherwise. "I'll be out in a minute. Didn't think anyone was waiting," she called out, hurrying a little faster to finish getting ready. Wrapping a towel around her hair and hastily applying enough concealer, foundation, and powder to cover the older bite marks on her neck and what was visible on her collarbone with a shirt on, she left the bathroom as quickly as she could.
If she avoided meeting Vicki's eyes when she left the bathroom, so what? Cynthia didn't want to start a fight, and asking why she'd gone to the twins' bathroom instead of the one Jeremy was currently sharing with Uncle John would only test the older teen's patience.
Going downstairs answered her question easily enough anyway. John was home, and had no doubt been his normal, effervescently charming self. In a rather uncharitable mood by this point, Cynthia rather thought they deserved each other, but she headed into the kitchen to make a sandwich instead of pointing that out.
John left her alone long enough for her to get all of the fixings out before making his presence known, arms hanging loosely at his sides in an almost forced manner as he tried to not seem confrontational. "What is she doing here, exactly? Jeremy ushered her in then left without answering my questions."
"Vicki?" Cynthia shrugged a little. "Showering."
Her 'uncle's' expression made her lips twitch upwards slightly. "She and Jer have a thing. I don't know how much of a thing it is. I do know he's moping a lot less now."
"I see."
Maybe he did; maybe he didn't.
"I'll be happy when they start doing something other than screwing and getting high," Cynthia confided quietly as she finished making her sandwich and started putting things away. While she kept hoping that Vicki might turn around, she couldn't tell if the older girl really wanted to be helped or not. Or even if she believed that there was help.
It was sad, and Cynthia felt some measure of (irrational) responsibility for all that there wasn't anything she knew how to do.
Taking her sandwich, Cynthia started to leave the kitchen when John nodded to the table in a silent command she knew oh so well from her own parents. The girl grumbled to herself, but did move to stand next to it, even if she wasn't going to immediately just sit down and be lectured to. They were living in the same house and it would be awkward as hell to be antagonistic, but Jenna would probably have her back by default against John.
"Cynthia… Isobel and her lawyer are going to be meeting with me tomorrow to try and mediate a custody agreement. Jenna says you're handling the adoption news okay, but… how are you actually holding up?"
She'd been so prepared for him to be a dick, to say something about one of the Salvatores or her constantly dodging the family, or even for him to say he'd heard she knew the 'Gilbert family legacy'. What Cynthia had not been prepared for was actual, almost fatherly concern.
"I don't really think that I need or want a mother," Cynthia answered slowly, twisting at part of the crust on her sandwich. "I've lost the family of my heart, and in exchange I get someone who shows up out of nowhere." Her chosen father, uncle, so many siblings, and Orion and his wonderful family. Accepting Jenna as an aunt was one thing – ridiculous, but one thing – accepting a mother? That wasn't happening.
"I know it's been hard for you, losing Grayson and Miranda."
She took a bite of her food and carefully did not reply. At length John spoke again, "Cynthia, I knew Isobel. She didn't leave you and Elena because she didn't love you."
Cynthia tilted her head curiously and finally took the requested seat. "Are you implying we actually were kidnapped?"
"No, no of course not. But she was sixteen. My brother and Miranda had been trying for a child for so long, and they were able to give you the kind of up bringing Isobel wouldn't have been able to. She was trying to give you a better life."
"Aaand, the part where she left no way to contact her, never contacted us, left a false name even to make it all the more difficult? Then she goes and marries another man – and I'm sure he's another man because there's no Saltzmans in this area – and runs away from him too?" Cynthia gave the man a defiant look. "I'm expected to think of her as a good role model?"
John clenched his jaw, clearly not enjoying arguing with a teenager one bit. "I think you should give her a chance. Meet her, see what she wants. It could be good for you."
Cynthia paused mid bite, finding it interesting that he was arguing for her. She had thought he was more uneasy with Isobel, but she had been the one to take the anti new mom stance.
"Tell you what, Uncle John. I'm perfectly happy to get to know my egg donor. Hell, I'd be fine getting to know our sperm donor as well, and I'll even try to convince Elena. But I don't want to leave Mystic Falls this year. I don't want to have someone judging my friends, and I don't… I don't want someone to expect me to be someone I'm not. Are Elena and I going to be allowed to be part of this mediation thing? Or is that between you and Jenna and this Isobel and Mr. Smith?"
"Would you like to be?"
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The girl made it back to the restaurant and bar before dark, something she took as an accomplishment whether it really was or not. She'd almost not come back. It wasn't as if Caroline – even as insecure as she could be – would really think Cynthia didn't care.
As it turned out, visiting the Grill was far more enjoyable her second time that day, and far more productive besides. She found Damon creeping Elena and co out by being exquisitely charming, and had happily joined the other three girls in a free meal. One Damon had actually paid for unless she missed her guess entirely. Bonnie was wearing the talisman now, which Cynthia assumed meant she'd paid a visit to her Grams again. That was mostly significant to her in that she actually did remember to ask for Sheila's phone number.
Updating Elena and the others about John's little talk felt… fun but strange. It humanized them, Cynthia realized. Something she had been avoiding as much as possible, and the sheer torture of repeating high school had been helping with up until now.
Elena had agreed that she wanted to meet Isobel. In some respects, the girl clearly felt the need to defend her 'real' parents. She was also curious though, and the added factor that their biological mother had left them at sixteen smoothed some things over for her.
"If Uncle John knew that this Isobel gave birth to us, why did they have to ask for those cheek swabs for the paternity – maternity, whatever – test?" Elena frowned into her drink. "Aunt Jenna didn't know who her mother was, beyond her first name I thought."
"Maybe your dad told him. Or Jenna just didn't think the age factor was helpful enough in ruling out whether this Isobel was your Isobel." Bonnie offered, looking askance at Damon as he brought them refills, no doubt from flirting with a waitress. Stefan didn't look amused at all, and hadn't since he joined them partway through Cynthia's retelling of her afternoon. (He'd been 'busy' whatever that meant.)
"Orrr maybe he knows more than he's saying," Caroline pointed out.
Elena recoiled immediately, but Stefan had inclined his head slightly. "I hate to say it, because I know you're not fond of him. But it's possible he's your father. It doesn't make sense for your dad to risk his career hiding your actual birth just to ensure they could adopt you unless you were family."
Silence aside from Elena's protestations reigned. Cynthia chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I'm guessing you don't want to just directly ask him?"
"God no," Elena immediately denied. "There's no way that the uncle I hate is my father. That would be way too cruel."
Damon very visibly bit back a comment, changing it to something different, more palatable. "You know what they say about small worlds."
The conversation veered off from there. Stefan arranged to pick Elena up after the meeting tomorrow; both girls promised to update Caroline and Bonnie on anything that was decided. Damon, for his part, apparently had Council business to attend to, but he did say he would try and swing by the house.
Cynthia tried not to be to dejected that she was primarily going to be left with homework as her only company, since Elena was visibly drifting right back into Stefan land. It was going to be a long night.
Damon squeezed her hand lightly, and Cynthia excused herself from the table. He'd extricate himself soon, she just needed to occupy herself for a little while.
If anyone could knock her from this suddenly dark mood, it would be Damon. So she wandered around, waving and chatting briefly to strangers who knew her name; pretending it wasn't still bizarre. Cynthia's meanderings brought her over to the bar, and she eyed the bartender critically. Drinking had never been her thing, but she did have a small amount of academic curiosity about how easy it was to be served in this town.
And this sort of was a birthday party?
"You look a little young to be over here."
Turning towards the raspy voice, Cynthia made out a shock of sandy hair and a much less chiseled and worn face than she actually remembered Alaric possessing. It was actually a little disconcerting, as if she were somehow seeing the man before he was quite… finished.
Still, she appreciated the distraction and headed towards his table. Alaric had a novel to his left, and appeared to be working on a crossword at the same time. Someone very much wanted to be distracted, and for now at least he hadn't delved fully into drinking to achieve that.
"It's the height, isn't it?" Her lips tilted slightly into a half smile. "I'm never going to be taken seriously unless I add grey into my hair."
It would be a lie to say she did not enjoy the uncomfortable expression on his face as the man who worked with teenagers and was probably quite good about guessing ages second guessed his initial impression.
"I'm actually waiting for someone. What about you?"
"Waiting on something." A call back on the job? He did seem to be here early, but maybe less vampire shenanigans sped that process up. Or maybe Isobel shouting her existence in the land of the living had. Tilting her head, Cynthia felt an actual burst of excitement when she caught sight of his ring. "Hey, really weird question, I know. But… could I maybe take a picture of your ring?"
She tried to give him a winning smile, knowing how bizarre she had to sound but hoping her confidence carried her.
The school teacher looked from her to his hand then back. "Sure?" He answered hesitantly. "What for? It's just an old family ring."
"The design looks familiar," Cynthia confided completely truthfully, then elaborated with a lie. "I'm curious if I've seen it in a book somewhere." Pulling out her phone, she snapped a (poor quality, damn but she missed her old phone) photo of his hand, then smiled again. "If I remember correctly, it might be something like snowdrop. Sorry, I'm Cynthia, by the way."
"Alaric Saltzman." His eyes seemed to weigh her, possibly deciding if she would be a problem student or what was even going on, but Cynthia was happy enough to extend her hand and shake his firmly. "It's a pleasure, and thanks for indulging me."
Her babbling didn't faze the man in the least, and he actually seemed a little curious despite possible misgivings. "What's snowdrop for then?"
"Oh! For good luck, of course." It had been in the movie Stardust anyway. She clasped her hands in front of her, holding tightly to her phone so she'd know when Damon announced his arrival. "I'm pretty interested in the more," her voice dropped an octave and she half whispered the next word, "mythological aspects of history. Not everyone gets that."
"Well, I'd make for a pretty poor history teacher if I didn't encourage interest where I found it."
Pouncing on his verbal admission, Cynthia pressed, "You're going to take over for Tanner then? Excellent. I'm sick of learning football plays."
He half laughed. "I hope so. I'm waiting on the HR department to finish 'verifying all of my references'. Which… who knows how long that will take. So.. that leaves me here."
"Waiting on the system, huh?" She glanced down briefly at her phone, then frowned minutely. "Wait.. did you say your name was Saltzman?"
"Yeah, it's Germanic, actually, although I was born and raised in Boston."
"No.. no I mean… as in Isobel?" Cynthia took a step back as her brows knit together in her best attempt at flustered confusion before turning back to the table she had been sitting at previously. Elena and Stefan had vanished. Bonnie was with Luka, and Damon… was charming Caroline.
She really hadn't thought this 'Let's poke Alaric with a stick' plan through very well. She had honestly just wanted a distraction. Now she just wanted to flee with her tail tucked between her legs.
"How do you know Isobel?"
The desperation in his voice was so earnest, that Cynthia sighed. He had let her take a photo of his ring. And he hadn't even made a big deal when she confirmed his initial guess was right and she was underage. Fine.
"She was on the news a few days back. The local station, I mean. I don't think word left town. I don't think she has either." She didn't personally care one way or another, but Jenna would probably have wreaked destruction and hellfire on Logan Fell if they had more unethical journalists poking their nose in the Gilbert family business.
Andie, Cynthia had noticed, didn't say a single word on the whole 'adoption scandal'. Some people knew what loyalty was.
Damon slid to Cynthia's side, wrapping a supporting arm around her before Ric could ask anything else. "Sorry it took me so long, darling. I had to wish the birthday girl a good night.
Turning her head slightly, she caught the perpetual 22 year old's eyes and grinned. "This is the friend I was waiting on, by the way. Damon, meet Alaric Saltzman. Alaric, meet my BFF," she introduced them with a dreamy voice, purposefully ignoring the human male's tension. Damon wasn't that kind, greeting Ric with the same creepy cheerfulness he had been using on Elena that night. "Any relation to Isobel?"
If looks could kill… well, Damon was actually already dead.
"That's what I said!" As if he hadn't heard. Alaric looked a little grey around the edges now. She wasn't sure if he was sick or angry. The man had spent two years trying to be able to hunt down and kill Damon, or vampires like him anyway, hadn't he? So it was probably anger.
Maybe?
His eyes were lowered, almost as if he were dismissing them – which was an impressively gutsy move to play when Damon was interested in you. But Alaric seemed very aware of their presence. There was a slight flicker under his eyelashes when Damon led Cynthia a few steps back from Ric's table.
"Are you?" Cynthia added a plaintive note to her voice, succeeding in coaxing the man's attention again, but only for a short moment before he stood and excused himself, saying he hoped to see her in class soon.
Grumbling on the way out of the restaurant, she poked Damon's side. "You didn't have to give him that 'I would cheerfully murder you and scatter your ashes' smile."
"Oh please, that's the normal smile I give humans."
She huffed a little. "But Ric isn't just any human. He's your future bestie and drinking buddy."
"You realize I already have a bestie, right?" Damon mocked back, unimpressed.
Cynthia put a hand on her hip, but her asshole best friend grabbed it instead. "You can have more than one, Damon. It's not against the rules."
"If you say so," he brushed a kiss across the back of her knuckles. "If the man can forgive me for Turning his wife, I am confident that he can forgive me for smiling at him weird."
She glared at him for four and a half seconds, then sighed, giving the argument up as a bad job. "You are impossible sometimes."
"That's why you love me."
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Shorter chapter this time, sorry friends. I have one more chapter prepared, but I'm hitting a mental wall a bit. No amount of self care is helping me right now, and when I do manage to write, my mood completely contaminates Cynthia's. I'm trying to avoid that as best I can.
I update you on Tuesday if I know that I will be late.