Chapter 4 – The Reaping

-Stefan-

I'm bent at the waist with my weight pushing through my extended arms – hands flat against the fender of my truck when Caroline's voice catches me off guard, a quiet "Hey" – I wasn't expecting anyone to follow me into the garage through the bay door as last headcount, everyone was in the house minus Damon. He knows me well enough to leave me alone for a bit – after his comment about being available for Elena should she be bored with me, I need a minute.

I know he's just jabbing at me because he's my older brother and because he knows how to push my buttons, just as he knows when he's treading on crossing the line and turning a bit of heckling into something real. Something that he and I can only settle with a few punches and a little Salvatore blood shed.

Caroline stops just inside the garage and asks, "Hiding out?"

Standing straight, I turn to her – a smile on my face just from having her around. Caroline and I began our friendship soon after Katherine turned her, but she became my best friend the instant she gave up the love of her life to save Elena, the love of mine. In the four years that Elena and I were apart, Caroline kept me going. She held me to the line and she pushed me to stay the course, helped me when I fell off my diet, and never… not once, did she ridicule me for holding on to what I had with Elena.

There are many things about Caroline that make me care for her like she's my sister; she's easy to be happy around, she lets me be pissed off when I want to be, knows how to keep me from going off the rails when I'm getting close to losing it – but most of all, Caroline understands what it feels like to love someone the way I love Elena.

I've said it to Elena before, but I don't think even she knows what it's like to be devoted to someone no matter what – with them, without them, whether the love is returned or not. It's a never-ending, unbreakable piety that I have for Elena. It's more than love – I can't explain it. There is nothing she could do, or say, and nothing that the universe could inflict upon me to make me give up on us. You can't love someone the way I do Elena and not have that love invaded into your bone marrow.

There aren't words to describe it… but Caroline understands because she's got a similar type of connection with Klaus.

We stand that way for a long moment – just smiling at one another. I'm replaying some of the worst times that we had during our four years, banished from this world, these people. I remember her crying, missing her mother. I see her sick with grief over Klaus – literally unable to stand, doubled over on the floor of her bedroom on the year anniversary of the night we took him down.

Caroline's smile turns into a slight grimace, her eyes wet with tears and she takes two quick steps into the garage and into my embrace, whimpering out, "I'm so sorry, Stefan." as her face lays against my shoulder. I'm about to ask her what she's talking about – why she's apologizing, but she continues before I speak, "Because of me you almost didn't have any of this. You almost lost Elena and Allie! You would have never of had Grayson! I was so selfish – making that deal with Elijah. I nearly ruined yours and Elena's lives!"

I don't say anything in response – just hug her tightly, my arms snuggly around hers, her hands on my sides. She's apologized before, many times. I don't know why she feels the need to apologize again as I've told her over and over that it doesn't matter – she did nothing wrong. Caroline didn't mean for me to get harmed – how could she have known that Lindsey and Gia, the witches that helped me take down Klaus had set up a fail proof plan of turning me human? By the time I made my situation known to Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie, she'd already agreed to the deal with The Originals. It didn't matter then, it doesn't matter now.

I've spent a lot of time in the last few years thinking – when I run, I think. When I'm nearly asleep, I think. Rocking Grayson or sitting up with a feverish Allie dozing in my arms – I drift off into my own mind and spend a lot of that time reflecting on how everything went so wrong, so quickly. From the beginning… the tomb vampires, Katherine, Elijah, Klaus, the Originals' after revenge; for years we were under constant attack from every angle and nearly every time our big plan was a huge failure.

What I've come to find, after all of my reflection and inspection of the play-by-play in the 20/20 point of view one has once everything is said and done, is that we failed time and time again because we each had a pawn in the game – someone to keep safe, somehow believing that our loved ones would make it out of our mess unharmed if only we could keep them in the dark. We worked together in a marginal sense, all the while keeping our own agenda in the forefront. It's how Vicki Donovan, Lexi, Jenna, and Matt all ended up dead. It's why Caroline was turned and how I found myself human and asphyxiating in my own blood in Rome. What happened to me, to Elena, as a result of Caroline working with The Original's, it was just collateral damage. How could I hold it against Caroline when I've got a multitude of unintended victims of my own?

Stepping back just a bit, Caroline wipes at her teary face and gives me a roll of her eyes, saying in a laugh, "Oh gosh will you look at me! Bawling!"

I laugh with her, put my hand to the side of her face. "It's kind of overwhelming, isn't it?"

Nodding her head, a few more tears pool in her smiling eyes, now tears of happiness I imagine. "I'm probably over-emotional." Caroline moves against me again, her head on my shoulder. "I just keep thinking of those times when we'd get drunk and try to figure out what everyone was doing with us away, remember?"

I do. I remember that. Our game of making up scenarios of their lives – always Elena for me, sometimes Damon and Katherine. Caroline would go into these crazy stories involving everyone she was missing – Elena, Bonnie, her mother, Matt, Jeremy, and Tyler… some others from high school that I'd never met or couldn't remember well enough to picture. We spend hours drinking whatever alcohol was around, listening to music, and daydreaming about the life we'd never be a part of. It was a way for us to get through the deep desolation of our lonely lives.

Comfortable hugging her, my best friend, I'm sending a silent thank you into the universe for allowing us to find our way back to this world, for letting Caroline and Klaus have a real chance, and for every single moment that I get with Elena and our children, when Caroline moves back to look at me and says. "I think all the emotions will get easier in the second trimester."

The words move into my ears and I'm smiling like an idiot – huge and wide – before my mind can form a response, before I can really grasp what she's telling me.

"I'm going to need you guys to move back to the states, Stef." Caroline grins, her voice cheery and excited though she playing it off the best she can, her hands pressing against her flat stomach. "We have no idea how to raise a kid and Klaus is so nervous – he's already read like ten books about pregnancy and nutrition and what to expect."

"What?" It's all I can get out, smiling, laughing – just so authentically happy for her and imagining Elena's reaction when she finds out – I can't wait to see that bright, beautiful smile on her face.

"Nine weeks." She sighs, the tears threatening to start again and making it difficult for her to speak. "I – I just never thought this could happen. I almost can't believe it. I'm so happy and terrified at the same time." I think she's about to cry again, a wave of fear passes through her eyes, and I take hold of her face to make her look at me. "I'm going to be a terrible mother, aren't I?"

It's probably not the best time, but I chuckle – Caroline a terrible mother sounds like a joke to me! She's sweet and she's caring and she's loyal to a fault. "You're kidding right?" She starts to look away again – telling me she's not kidding and I need to cut out the laughing – so I press my lips together to straighten up my face and bring her frustrated eyes back to mine. "Caroline, out of every woman in the world fit to be a mother, you're one of the top two." Rolling her eyes again, this time more of an oh shucks kind of way. "You have nothing to worry about – You - are going to be an amazing mother, okay?" She nods, rests her forehead against mine.

Then the door opens and I feel that vibration from Elena that I always get when she's near – but right now it's heavy and sharp, and honestly, a little painful – almost as painful as the look in her eyes that I see when I drop my hands from Caroline's face and turn to my wife.

"Elena!" Caroline says in a quick, surprised, could-be-confused-for-guilt pitch as she jumps away from me.

"Um," Elena's eyes burn into me and I know what she's thinking, what she thinks she's seeing. When she gets upset like this, angry with me or suspicious, it's like her body is sending out hundreds of invisible, pin-prickling needles against my skin – I can actually feel her hostility. "Klaus is looking for you two." She says, shutting the door before she even finishes the last word of her sentence.

I can't look away from the shut door, my mind trying to assess the wreckage, imagine what that must have looked like from Elena's view, and figuring out a plan of damage control at the same time. Caroline presses a heavy sigh through tight lips, puffing out her cheeks and looking at me with a fearful apology on her face.

-Elena-

I make it to my bedroom without making eye-contact with anyone. Purposely moving in the sort of speed that says this is casual, I just need to go to my room for a moment, no one think anything of it – everything is fine. I even force a smile towards them as I look their way but not at anyone really, my line of sight staying just above their heads – all of their eyes on me. Damon was leaning against the open window frame, drinking as usual. Klaus stopped mid-motion, thumbing on his Ipad – reading I assume. Bonnie is still at the table with the twins, and Jeremy was holding Grayson while talking with Katherine… everyone frozen, looking at me like they were waiting for me to break out into song and dance.

Surely what I saw was innocent – right? Stefan and his gentle hands with those faded scars on the knuckles and callused fingers; He'd never…

She'd never. Caroline wouldn't cross me. She wouldn't cross Klaus!

But the embrace in the garage paired with Caroline's greeting to Stefan this morning – the hopping on his back and leaving kisses all over his face – I'm doing all I can to remember that they love each other like siblings. The way I love Jeremy. If I hadn't seen him in years, I'd probably do the same thing to my brother… but why sneak off into the garage to have a private conversation and stand much too close and hold each other much too softly?

No, Elena I tell myself. This is your own insecurities and nothing more.

Ten to fifteen pounds of insecurities.

After making it into my room, closing the door behind me, I'm standing motionless in the walk-in closet as it's the only place I can actually get some privacy. Unless it's storming, Stefan likes to have every window in the house open – all the exterior walls are French doors with split-top, barn style windows leading out to the wrap around porch that sold the house when he was looking for my dream home in preparation of the unlikely event of me making it through the ritual to wake Klaus. It's a big change from when he was a vampire – how he'd keep himself closed up, often preferring to be alone, or with just me at least. Human Stefan, much like he was during the four months after Naples, he's so much lighter… he smiles easier, sleeps deeper. He holds nothing back. When he wants to laugh, he laughs. When he wants to kiss me, he kisses me… when I would let him, at least.

Now it's me, hunkered down and hiding a part of myself. I know. I really do know that I'm making more out of this, my body insecurities, than I should be. Sometimes, I'll look at myself in the mirror and think, hey, that's not so bad. I recognize that girl. But times like now, looking at my reflection staring back at me from the full length mirror, I'm just disgusted.

Ten to fifteen pounds… I have to know if that's right. Hell, it could be more, I don't know. I've never been one to obsess about my weight or my body, so long as I felt good, felt comfortable in my own skin. I honestly don't really know how much my goal weight should be! That's what they talk about on the 'lose the pregnancy weight' – 'get back to your pre-mommy body' websites - you're goal weight.

I take a quick look at the scale that Stefan bought when I got pregnant with Grayson to make sure I was gaining enough weight – can you believe that, he was afraid I'd not gain enough! Well, I showed him, huh? I think I went more than a month right in the middle of my pregnancy where all I wanted to eat was Stefan's chicken parm and Ben-n-Jerry's Chocolate Cheesecake Brownie!

I'm trying to remember the last time I weighed before Grayson and honestly cannot come up with anything. But I need a baseline and decide to grab my journal from last year and look for my first OB appointment – I know I wrote my stats in there.

I don't sit, just open the leather-bound book on top of Stefan's desk and quickly flip through to summer, last year – near the end of July. I was already six weeks pregnant, but it's the best I can do.

July 21st – 6wks & 3 days approx.
Dr. Nguyen says everything looks good. C-section with Allie looks to be totally healed up and he doesn't expect any problems. We got to see #2, that's what we're calling the baby until we learn the sex. The ultrasound was just a bunch of grey and white and black swooshes and a teeny-tiny lima-bean of a baby, but there it was, #2. I don't know if Stefan knew what we were looking at, seeing as how this was his first ultrasound, but the heartbeat of #2 pounded out into the room like a marching band and Stefan's green eyes lit up like a spring leaf – full of life, glittering with tears, a huge, proud smile on his face.

I'm tempted to continue to grow our family – maybe ten kids! - just to get to see that adoring look on Stefan's face!

Anyway, I got the same ol' speech – lay off the coffee (booh), five or six small meals a day to help with the morning sickness, continue to stay active, of course no alcohol or sushi. I'm 123.5 pounds –

That's all I read. Closing the book, but leaving it on the desk, I bee-line back to the closet and pull out the ol' dusty scale that I haven't used since the night before I went in to have Grayson – me, five foot-five at 154lbs and my nine pound baby Salvatore that happens to look just like a Gilbert, less the big hands. My dad, Grayson, Jeremy… my father, John – they had medium hands. Stefan has big hands. Hands that hold my small ones like a blanket, protective, soft, enveloping it whole. Hands with talent beyond belief – he can write, he can build, he can take things apart and put them back in better shape and without missing a single thing… hands that hold the face of his best friend in the garage. UGH

Giving my head a quick shake to rid myself of my nonsense thoughts about Stefan and Caroline – it was innocent. It was innocent. It was innocent. – I do a quick calculation, a guess-timation really. I'm able to wear pretty much everything in my closet, less one very sexy, snug, silk wrap dress that I've been too scared to try on since it's Stefan's favorite and I don't want to look like a busted can of biscuits in it. But I'm not quite as toned in my thighs and my tummy still seems too loose, my rear end a bit thicker than I like – and then with Katherine's prediction of ten to fifteen pounds, I figure I'm probably 133. 133 is less than her estimate and sounds like an okay number for a twenty-six year old mother of two… a quiet voice in the back of my mind whispers unless you happen to be married to a Greek God – Which I am, by the way. Stefan's body hasn't changed a bit.

Scratch that, yes it has.

The deep V of his torso has grown more pronounced as his shoulder muscles have grown bigger. The shadowy tones down his back are even sexier as he's kept up his daily running and workout even though he has no more cravings to burn off. Stefan, as we all know, has an addictive personality and he's a creature of habit. If he works out a couple of times in a week, he'll probably be doing the same thing, but in greater difficulty as he does love a challenge, in a month. Once he commits to doing something, he does it. He's dedicated like that.

So yea. 133 will be okay. I can do 133... but maybe I'll start running with Stefan in the mornings – I used to run, right? Way back when Alaric was helping me train in order to protect myself from Klaus, and Stefan too, I guess, I ran. And maybe I'll stop drinking. Stefan has maybe a beer or two in a week – I think Bonnie, Caroline, and I have killed at least six bottles of wine today alone and it's not yet dusk!

Stepping onto the scale, I smirk and say outloud, "Stick to the clear liquors, Elena" in a mocking, whiney tone as I hear Katherine's voice in my head, tapping my wine glass with her black polished nails.

…waiting…

*knock-knock-knock* "Elena'r"

Klaus.

That's how he says my name when he's not about to kill me - with an 'er' sound added to the end – otherwise he drags out the syllables in a playful, breathy tone like if you were antagonizing a sandwich you were about to eat – hellooo ham-burrr-ger.

I almost freak out – my heart begins to beat too hard, I feel my palms sweat a bit – but then I look down between my newly manicured toes and see the block numbers that make me grin. 125.0 lbs

"Elena'r, may I speak with you a moment?" Klaus calls through the door, rapping lightly against it a few more times.

Suddenly calm, suddenly feeling quite confident, I say "Sure, come in" – those are the first words I've said to Klaus since we partied in Naples like friends, all the while knowing he was going to die.

We both step into the bedroom at the same time, and if I'm reading him right, he looks nervous.

When someone spends a lot of time hunting you, you begin to pay attention to the small inflections of their voice, the way they stand, how they hold their mouth, what makes them look away and break eye contact – I'd say I know Klaus about as well as anyone other than Caroline could. The line between being in love with someone and being terrified by them is so very, very thin. Sometimes the two even touch, overlap – like when Stefan wasn't the Stefan I knew and I feared him, I still loved him… maybe I even grew to love him more.

"I hope I'm not bothering you." Klaus begins, his hands deep in the pockets of his shorts, eyes never finding my face as he pretends to look over the bedroom. "I've been meaning to tell you, you and Stefan have a beautiful home and Caroline and I," he pauses, glances at my face, "especially me – we feel quite blessed to have been invited."

I smile a nervous, tight jaw smile. "Thank you."

We stand that way a bit, both of us uneasy, I think. Finally, after a long moment of silence, Klaus gives a light sigh, "I may as well get on with it, I imagine, no use in dawdling." He steps towards me – Its instinctual for me to step back from Klaus when he advances. He notices, frowns at my response. "I want to apologize to you, Elena'r. I've apologized to Stefan – when we retrieved lunch. But he made it clear that his forgiveness lies with you. I had figured that already, with just how crazy my old friend is about you, but I'd planned on expressing my regret to you, either way – as you are the one who lost the most by my moody behavior."

"Moody?" I ask, almost in a sarcastic chuckle, pulling my hair back into a high ponytail in a way to keep my nervous hands busy.

It's another thing Stefan and Klaus have in common, the way they use words to flip a situation in their favor – their talented vocabulary.

Klaus smiles at my amusement and I remember something Caroline had told me in Wilmington about his smile. At the time it made no sense seeing as how my memories of Klaus, the man in love with Caroline, were erased and all I could remember was Klaus, the big-bad – but here, with all of my brain intact and Klaus doing his best to apologize to me for something that cannot be apologized for, I see what she means… Klaus does have a charming smile. "Moody, appalling, shameful. Pick the adjective of condemnation and it will fit." He says lightly through that smile. "It was difficult to be alone. For eternity. An abomination like no other. It does not make right any of the things that I've done, but looking back on it, I now wish that I would've chosen differently. On many occasions. I deserved my bit of detention – a little solitude to reconsider my actions, however, I want you to know that I would not've allowed Kol to -"

This time I look away. Sometimes I can see Kol's light-less eyes and hear the jingling of his belt and I wake up barely able to breathe and searching for Stefan to save me. Those nights I can only find rest when nearly every inch of my body is against him like a security blanket… Even my toes have to be on his skin.

" – such actions, they are deserving of death, Elena'r."

That is the best apology one can expect from Klaus. There will be no groveling, no tears, and definitely no actual mentions of the things that he did to me and my family and friends – but because I now have all of my memories, and because of the stories Stefan has told me about the Klaus he befriended in the 20's, I'm well-aware of how difficult this apology must be for him and I accept with a gentle nod.

Lowering his gaze like a child, Klaus returns my nod and goes to leave, nearly to the door when he stops and faces me again. "May I offer you a bit of advice?"

Wearily, I say, "Sure."

"You are a beautiful woman, Elena'r." Usually confident, I'm surprised by the uneasiness in his voice – the tables have surely turned if I now make Klaus nervous. "But we all have weaknesses, no matter how ludicrous they may be – but, you should be careful with who you share your weaknesses with. Some people," Katherine, I assume. "They just cannot wait to use them against you." Much later on in the evening it hits me that he may be speaking about Stefan using his family as ransom so many years ago..

I don't have time to respond, as Bonnie and Caroline slip past him – Bonnie giving me a big-eyed what's he doing in here look and Caroline nuzzling into his embrace with a concerned expression on her face.

"Hey you," Bonnie's voice is too light – obviously she thinks she's helping me to get out of an awkward situation. Taking a seat on my unmade bed, she asks, "Did you ever find those pictures of us from grade school that I asked about? I've got to start on that family tree project when I get back home."

Dang it. I'd totally forgot that I was supposed to go through my moms things for her – with Abby disappearing and her father never remarrying, Bonnie doesn't have a whole lot of childhood pictures. My mom, on the other hand, may as well have been a freelance photographer, the way she was constantly snapping pictures of us. "Sorry." I say through a half frown, half forgive-me-smile as Klaus kisses Caroline's forehead and leaves with a, 'I'll let you girls be' whisper against her ear.

"Elena!" Bonnie groans, laying back on my bed – her hair fanning out onto Stefan's side.

"I know. I know!" I laugh, pulling of the blue chiffon top that was doing a great job covering me up and making me itch at the same time. I'm basically the same weight I was when I got pregnant – when I felt like a goddess and Stefan, my Roman sculpture of a husband, couldn't keep his hands off of me. I can be that way again… he hasn't changed, the way he wants me, the way he looks at me like I'm causing his heartrate to go into overdrive. It's been me and my body-issues, my low self-esteem that's been holding us up. In every other aspect, our relationship has never been better! I can fix this and I will, starting now. "Let's go to the attic and we can go through my mom's boxes."

Bonnie hops off of the bed, trailing behind me after I grab a very thin, tight, almost transparent grey cotton tank-top that stops just above my navel – I remember Stefan's eyes glued to my body when I wore it, his fingers always finding their way to grazing against my bare midriff.

I've slipped it on, stepped out into the hallway, and see Stefan on his cell when I notice Caroline is still in my room – unsure if she's invited, unsure if I'm angry. Talking and pacing like he does when he's on the phone, Stefan stops in mid-stride, mid-sentence even, "Yea, Pepper, that's gr-", when our eyes meet and I smile confidently, standing straight with a slight curve to my back so that my rear end sticks out a bit. He looks me over quickly. I can still feel his emerald eyes on me – like a tangible force, even after all of these years together – and when he gives me his hungry, the-things-I-could-do-to-you half smile, I toss my hair over my shoulders as I fight off a shudder from the gravity that's edging up its intensity and call to Caroline. "Come on, you can help us go through the boxes, Car."

Of course the garage thing was innocent…

-Stefan-

I forget what Pepper was saying, nearly hang up the phone and go to Elena without even telling one of our dearest friends, and Elena's boss's wife, goodbye – but Bonnie and Caroline follow her out of our bedroom and to the garage as I watch her walk by and feel like some rabid animal in heat, my chest tightening by the gravity between us and a playful look at me over her shoulder as she walks out of my sight.

She turns it on and off like a switch, the sexiness – but even when she's just being cute Elena, I want to touch her and kiss her and hold her against me. Still, I have to say, the mischievous look in her eyes and the way she moved her hips as she paraded by me with her friends in tow – damn, that was nice to see again. I've missed her confidence – seeing her unsure about her body reminds me too much of when she was compelled and unsure about me, us…

Finally, Pepper finishes up what she was saying – something about a book, I think – and I give her my best, ask her to tell Robert hello for me, then we finally hang up. Like most of the day, Klaus is close by, waiting on me.

"Where are they going?"

He shrugs, nursing at a bottle of beer, "Look through some boxes for pictures of the witch, I believe."

"Bonnie." I correct him, grasping his shoulder. "Her name is Bonnie."

The house is basically empty, but I can see Lola's wild curls sitting on the deck next to Grayson in his bouncy-seat, Liam playing with a hot wheel next to them, and Jeremy standing just almost out of view, laughing. Allie's little voice is easy for me to pick up even though I can't see her – awake from her nap and now playing with Damon in the back –she's squealing and giggling and he's making Godzilla sounds.

In order to segway into a lighter topic – Klaus carries a little animosity towards Bonnie, towards all witches, actually – I release my hold on him and go the pantry, saying, "that's one thing Allie never gets tired of, being chased." as I retrieve the clams.

"And she never will, she is a woman after all." Klaus laughs, sitting at one of the barstools. "Coy little things." I don't really like to agree with Klaus – especially when it comes to our views on women – so I just nod, filling the sink with cool water to let the clams breathe out the salt water and sand. After a moment, Klaus' tone is more serious when he says, "I spoke with Elena."

I know. I was headed in to try and explain Caroline and me in the garage when my phone rang and Klaus walked into our bedroom. I stayed close. I know it's ridiculous… but it's become habit. Keeping Elena safe. Watching out for Klaus' next attack.

My neck is starting to tense from the thoughts of Klaus and the Originals, the times I've failed at protecting my wife, so I respond in monotone. "And I spoke with Caroline."

Without looking at him I feel Klaus swell up – prideful the way a man gets when the word begins to spread to the masses of his great fortune, fulfilling the only real requirement of being a man – create life. My dad's voice hits me like a ton of bricks. I can almost feel the warmth of the fireplace in his office, smell the whiskey in the air… Find a woman, boys. Love her until you can love no more. Never stray, keep true to your vows, and most of all, create a family. Create life to bring joy into the world and carry on our name, my sons.

My father wasn't always a bigot. At one time he was just a kid, in love with my mother and the father of two boys who looked up at him like he was their hero. Then my mom died, and Damon chose a rebellious road, the war came to our doorstep, and vampires broke us into irreparable pieces. With his teachings of music, great literature, history… he taught me to be the man I am, while Lexi taught me to be the vampire I was always trying to be.

Thinking about him, thinking about Lexi, my mother – it causes my empty stomach to seize and my throat is flushed with acid.

"And?" Klaus' voice breaks my train of thought, thankfully, and I look up to find him staring back at me, his chin up in a way that reminds me of people who have always got what they wanted. "Shouldn't I get a congratulations or a cigar? Surely you have some thought on the matter, with your relationship with Caroline, and all."

I stop my face from showing how I feel, just short of my eyes squinting a bit – your relationship with Caroline – those words held quite a bit more meaning than I think he meant to let show. Cool, confident, Iet-by-gones-be-by-gones Klaus has just slipped on his game.

I remind myself to be more careful regarding my comfort with Caroline for Elena AND Klaus' sake.

"Well," I lean back against the counter, getting enough space between us so I can read him better. "I can't imagine Rebekah is too happy about this."

"Yes. We should probably discuss that, Stefan." Klaus' voice is as calm and easy as ever, but there's something about him that's giving me a bad feeling. "My siblings."

"I need to talk with him first." Katherine saunters into the kitchen, her body swaying with each step, wearing a bikini top and frayed jean shorts.

I'm pretty attentive to detail, but I look away so quickly that I honestly could not tell you what color her top is. I may have got mistakenly caught up in a strange situation with Caroline, but I'm not dumb enough to make that mistake twice in one day.

"Mmm, Katerina." If Klaus could've turned into a snake at that moment, it would have better fit the way he hisses out his greeting to her. I watch his eyes instead of watching her and I'm not sure if he's appreciating her looks or sizing her up.

Ignoring him, Katherine comes to stand next to me – she's been out in the sun and now her warm skin is radiating heat against me. "Can I speak with you," shooting a glare at Klaus, she adds, "in private?"

I must look at Klaus with a pleading face, because he gives me a big grin as he stands, tossing a, "You're on your own, Stefan." as he exits the kitchen.

"What?" I ask quickly, immediately – moving away because of her warmth and the smell of lavender and lemon that I've associated with her for nearly 160 years – grabbing at the red potatoes and white onions that need chopped.

Katherine notices me move away from her and smiles, like she enjoys playing her head games. "Are you ignoring Damon?"

I stop, knife in hand – a quick image of stabbing her passing through my mind before I remember that we can't do that kind of stuff anymore… humans don't heal. "What? No. Why?" Back to the onions, I slice one in half and inhale the sting of it to drown out her lavender.

She leans onto her elbows, resting on top of the counter across from me, knowing that if I look up from the chopping board I'll have a perfect view down her chest. "You haven't spent much time with him."

I chop a bit faster, my mind fleeting through a million images that all contain Katherine. My sight intensely focused on the chopping. "We've talked, but he's been attached to you."

Katherine reaches across the counter towards me, picking up a potato and grazing the back of her hand against the back of mine. Her voice playfully light, a nostalgic version of flirting when she says, "I can remember a time when that wasn't such a bad thing. Damon in the morning, Stefan in the night."

Three sentences in and I've already had my fill of her.

I notice that my grip on the knife is growing a bit tighter – my fingertips pressing harshly against the palm of my hand. When I look up at her, I move my gaze so quickly that my eyes never catch sight of anything below her nose… it's just a blur, a lavender and lemon scented, warm, blur.

In a quiet, angry whisper, I speak quickly through a tight, forced smile. "Is this what you want to talk about, really? Something that happened more than a century ago? You don't have anything else going on in your life… nothing more exciting has happened since 1864?" I have to sit the knife down. It makes a loud clattering sound against the granite, "It's not going to happen, Katherine."

Katherine rolls her eyes, pushes herself into a straight stance, returning my angry glare. "Damon needs money." I frown, confused. How could he need money? "He owes taxes on the Salvatore house, can barely afford to pay for his books for school… He's even got his car up for sale." I guess I'm still frowning at her as I try to make sense of what she's saying – Damon has always been loaded. It's like she's read my mind when she adds, "When we turned human, we lost all of our compulsion… so Damon's imaginary money disappeared. Poor little bank teller probably got fired, if not arrested for embezzlement."

Okay. That makes sense. I'd never really thought it through, how Damon had money. I don't know, I guess I'd figured he'd won it playing a compelled game of poker or some other form of gambling. "How much?"

"A lot." She forms the word with her tongue pink tongue flicking from her perfect, white teeth; cherry red lips in the shape of an O – I look away, start chopping again, faster and not as precise as before.

She starts in on how much books cost, $50 for each application to law school, the price of gas, but all I'm thinking is that if I can't get my mind under control, keep my eyes from wandering, I'll stab myself in the hand. That'll do it. Like an electric shock to train an animal – looking at Katherine results in pain. Always has.

She's found her way against me again, picks up a piece of potato that I've chopped, and I hear her bite into it. Katherine stays close while I finish chopping – wordless, warmth, lavender. Finally done, I exhale loudly when I move away, bend at the waist and retrieve a large stock pot from the cabinet. When I stand again, my eyes catch sight of her body, stretched out and inviting – sunkissed skin, curved in the right places. This time I catch sight of her top – it's stripped, red and white.

I ignore her knowing smile and scoop the vegetables into the pot – reaching further than necessary in an obvious attempt at staying as far away from her as possible.

"Stefan?" Her voice is soft, sweet – fingertips moving up my arm, barely touching me but radiating through my muscles.

"I'll talk to him." When she starts to trail her fingertips down my arm, moving her teasing touch back down the way it had traveled, I turn to her – angry with her mind games – "Katherine, I said I'll talk to him."

She's looking up at me through her eyelashes, smiling the way she always does when she wants something – her weapon against me. "Thank you." I think she's finished with her little show as she starts to turn away, but just as I begin to relax Katherine stops and moves back to me – closer than before, just as warm, curls framing her face. When her hand touches my stomach, just above the waist of my jeans, my abdominal muscles tighten to a painful degree and I flinch a bit. "So you don't ever think about us? About the nights we spent together?" Leaning into my chest, I feel her lips against my collar bone when she says, "How wet you'd get me?"

Then I push her.

Hard.

Her little, human body slams up against the wall and for the life of me she looks turned-on, thrilled by my advance when I loom over her and beg myself not to kill her for trying to ruin me and Elena. She gives a giggle, a soft sigh of my name, looking up at me with those same mischievous eyes.

I lick my lips, almost surprised when I don't feel sharp fangs protruded from my top teeth, "I never. think of us, Katherine. But I think of you." One of her curls is hanging down into her face, so I take it between my thumb and forefinger, gently set it back in place. "I think about the many times I should have killed you, and how you've never paid for what you did to Damon and me." Her eyes are losing that playful look, her head turning to the side a bit. "Do yourself a favor, Katherine, and leave me alone before I make good on all the shit you've put me through."

Swallowing hard, she attempts to push me away, forgetting she's just a little human girl with little human strength… she's no more powerful than Elena, and though I've never tested it, I know I am much stronger than her, than both of them. Trying to sound confident, her tone comes off a little scared when she says, "You won't hurt me, Stefan."

I step back, nodding, kneading my fingers together - a little shocked by the truth that comes out of my mouth when I say, "No, I wouldn't hurt you, Katherine. I would kill you."

When her eyes widen and she stands straight, I know Katherine understands. I'm not bluffing. I'd love to tell you that the desire to annihilate, to murder, that it was all part of me becoming a vampire. My life would be much easier if that were the case… I probably could've enjoyed the years I spent as a vampire if I wouldn't have relished in the killing so much –If I wouldn't have known that deep down, beneath the morality my mother taught me and the sense of right and wrong that I learned from my father, was a desire to truly punish those who'd done me wrong. I can remember the fleeting thought of beating Thomas Sellers, a boy in the class below Damon, to a bloody pulp when he stole Damon's girlfriend while Damon was in training for the Army. Katherine takes off in quick, wide strides, her bare feet pounding against the floor while my minds eye pictures when I nearly drew a rifle on a banker sent out to collect a debt from my father after a particularly rough winter that had slowed the logging.

I've always had this temper… a sudden urge to destroy. Being a vampire just gave me an excuse to enjoy it.

I hear Klaus' amused chuckle though I'm standing with my eyes on the floor and head down, a bit ashamed by my outburst, a bit frightened by it, and very angry with Katherine. I'm trying to get myself under control when I feel him slap me on the back, grabbing my shoulder like he does when he's proud of me, or feels particularly close to me at the moment. "Nice job. Passing that up takes some kind of a man." I give a half laugh, shaking my head in frustration just as I hear Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie coming in from the garage.

**MORE TO COME**

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