Hey everyone! So the next chapter will be the final chapter of this fanfic, but I am planning a sequel, so be on the lookout for that! Thank you so much for reading and supporting me. It's meant the world to me.
Every moment of this trip feels like a month.
Part of her is so excited to be able to live amid history - the old buildings and the cobbled streets, the square that has seen countless pilgrims and tourists, the inhabitants of the city themselves. Soon, she herself will be part of this, a stitch in this sprawling tapestry. But a not so insignificant part of her feels the dread seeping into her bones - once the transformation is complete, she won't be a part of the living world anymore. Not in the ways that matter.
A very small part of her screams that this is a mistake.
That primal instinct tells her it was a mistake to ever contact him again, to even have spoken to him after that fateful night by the tennis courts. These thoughts don't surprise her though - it makes sense that any living creature, knowing its end is near, will fight to stop that from happening. However, that decision has long been made for her, and she knew what she was getting into the moment she found out who he was and decided to keep him in her life anyways. She has signed, sealed and delivered herself to death's door in a neat little box, and the sooner this wave tides over the better.
She spends the plane ride back home with her nose in her iPad, Demetri giving her space as he sketches idly in his seat. He can feel her raised pulse and smell the fear in her body, but he doesn't judge her or try to change her mind. "I don't blame you," he comments hours into the flight, giving her a sad smile, "and I don't know if I would have made the same decision if I had the choice."
"I don't really feel this way, but I can't stop it either," Sophia sighs, dragging a hand across her cheek, "I don't want to feel this way."
"I don't think you have much of a choice in that, mia cara," he leans forward, fingers running over her knuckles, "the fight for survival is part of being alive. You can't vanquish that until the life bleeds out of your body, until there is nothing left to fight for."
"Then I wish you turned me right here and now," she laughs shakily, "would save me a lot of this," she gestures vaguely. "I would," he starts, "but truth be told, I do not trust myself enough for this. No, we'll be taking you to someone who will do the job for us without killing you in the process." She tries to think of possible candidates, and given how few of them she knows of by name, Sophia has only one guess. "Carlisle Cullen?" He nods, leaning back in his seat. "He has turned most members of his coven, and his profession gives him a far higher tolerance than any of us would have in that department." She wonders if he was the one to turn Bella, to turn her husband.
The air is colder in Boston and she keeps the windows down as they drive back, the wind whipping by. It's grounding in its own way, a world away from balmy Italy, and Sophia breathes in the familiar smell of pine, closing her eyes as she lets herself take it all in. "Our senses, what happens to them?" she asks as the treeline blurs. "Well, they get heightened, but not just in intensity, but detail and range as well. You will be able to see every dust mote in absolute clarity, hear the heartbeats of every creature around you as if it were in your own ears. It will be disorienting at the very beginning, for sure." Her apprehension is overtaken by curiosity, wondering what her first time with those abilities will feel like. Will it feel like everything coming into hyperfocus, or will it feel like Jekyll's transformation? Would it overwhelm her? How long will it take to adjust? Those questions come to a halt as they reach her apartment.
It is just the way she left it, but everything feels off-kilter. She has to start selling or donating some of this stuff, let her department know that she intends to not complete her doctorate. Or would it work better if she were to just disappear? 'Pass away' in an accident, perhaps? 'Complete her degree abroad'? All the above preparations will be counteractive then. "Do you want to rest, or do you want to start planning right away?" he asks, eyes set intently upon her. "How much longer do we have?" she asks, taking in the dying light filtering in through her windows. She has an inkling, but she just wants to be sure, hoping that maybe somehow, she will have longer than she thinks. "Days," he replies, confirming her guess. "With you now being directly associated with us, the Masters do not want to take any chances." He moves closer, a hand on her shoulder as he looks out the window, the light bathing him in gloomy shades of blue. "Do you want to see your parents first?"
She considers it.
On one hand, seeing them now knowing what lies ahead would break her, but on the other hand, this will be the last time she sees them the way she is now. She will never get to interact with them in person again, only observing from the sidelines as their lives move forward. Time heals all wounds, but the regret from not seeing them will not fade, so she decides to take the emotional risk. "We should, yeah." She smiles at his raised eyebrow, shaking her head. "What, you thought you would escape meeting your girlfriend's parents?"
"Will I be threatened by your father?" The image of her father giving the shovel talk to an immortal, near indestructible being almost makes her laugh.
"Maybe, maybe not. He will certainly try to impress upon you that hurting me will not be in your best interests." Once the moment passes, she picks up the phone and dials home, waiting for her mother to pick up. She's almost ready to chicken out and cut the call but the speaker crackles to life, her mom's voice drifting out across to her. "Hey sweetheart, how are you?" she asks. "Everything okay?" That isn't anything out of the ordinary - her mom is a near-constant worrier - but today the question makes her throat seize. "Yeah," she chokes out, trying to keep her voice even. "The school year has ended so I was wondering, if you would be up for me visiting?"
"Of course," she hears her voice brighten, "why is that even a question? You're always welcome home." Her optimism brings Sophia to tears, and she mutes her mic for a second so she can compose herself. "I know," she swallows, "but I just wanted to check. Also, uh, would it be okay if I brought someone along?"
"You know your friends are always welcome to visit."
"He's uh, not strictly a friend." She can practically hear her mother's smile as she finishes saying that, the older woman letting out a satisfied sigh. "Oh, well he is more than welcome to come along with you to see us. I hope you haven't been keeping him a secret from us for too long."
"No, mom," she chuckles, "it's only been a month or two at most, but uh, I really like him, yeah."
"I'm glad," her voice softens, and she can hear her father vaguely asking something in the back, her mother sighing in exasperation. "I'm gonna help your dad find something that is most likely right in front of him, but we are ready for you whenever you get here, okay? Love you, kiddo." There it is, that lump in her throat, back again. "Love you too, mom." She doesn't know how badly she's shaking until his arms wrap around her shoulders and she lets it all out, breaking down. "I'm not ready for this," she whispers once she's able to speak. "No one ever is," he tells her, a hand running through her hair. "I'm gonna wash my face," she speaks again, voice steadier, "and then we can leave. They live only two hours away from here. We can make it before its too late, spend a day or two, and then do the rest."
She locks the bathroom door behind her and examines her face in the mirror, the white fluorescent light casting a pallor over her complexion. This is what she's going to look like soon for the rest of her existence - pale skin that will somehow always look wrong, dark circles under her eyes that will never fade, hair that will never grow beyond that moment. She wants to cry but the tears don't come, so she simply scrubs at her face until the skin is raw and flushed, reminding her that she is, for now, still living.
They get in the car and she gets behind the wheel as Demetri throws two overnight bags in the back seat, driving back muscle memory for her. It's unusually quiet for the two of them, as they typically have something or the other to talk about; she takes a look at him at one of the last red lights before they leave Cambridge, Demetri's guilt-ridden reflection in the passenger window. This clearly weighs on him as well but she isn't going to prod, so they continue in tense silence as she keeps her focus on the road. Sometime after the darkness fully settles in, he speaks. "I should have never come back." She almost slams the brakes, the car idling on the side of the highway.
"What the fuck?"
"If I had simply learned to deal with this, you wouldn't have to deal with this pain. You could have gone on with your normal, human, life. I chose myself over someone else, again, and this time I care about the consequences and they are coming to hurt one of the people I care about the most."
"Okay first off," the anger bleeds through her voice, "this isn't just fucking about you. And second, I made that decision as well." Sophia takes a deep breath, steadying herself before she speaks without thinking. "I should not have contacted you, and yeah maybe if you had never responded or returned, none of this would have happened. I would have led a fairly predictable, simple, content human life. But that will never change the fact that I met you, that I met the Cullens, that I know that your world exists. Even if I chose to never be a part of it and tried to not hurt you or your family or kind, I would always miss you. I would always miss what I could have had, what I could have seen."
"I would still have to deal with the pain of losing my family and the people I care about, and on top of that lose part of myself in the end before completely fading into fucking nothingness. And comparing that to the possibility of losing my family but still getting to be in their lives and getting to spare myself the pain of old age and death? I'm willing to take that bet, even if it means going through the wringer for it. I chose myself over them and maybe I'm selfish, but if you are a monster for that, then so am I. I am okay being the monster in my story, because at least I get to have some form of a happy ending."
"I'm sorry," he says after a pause, "I should have been considerate of your perspective and pain."
"Yeah you should have," she grumbles as she starts the car again, but she isn't too mad, and she turns to smile at him sympathetically. "It's okay, I don't really blame you. You haven't been human for a hot second."
"It's easy to not consider something that hasn't been yours for a while," he remarks, although he does not sound upset, just meditative. "I'm sorry for being snippy - I should not have discounted how this must be affecting you too," she says as they enter the town limits of the place she has called home. It is smaller (and quieter) than Cambridge, and the only ones out are late dog walkers in reflective vests, their paths lit by the amber street lamps. The town is, in its essence, one large suburb, and her hands shake as she turns down the street that leads home. She's two houses away when she kills the engine, her eyes prickling with tears. Don't think too much about it, she tells herself as she starts the car again, pulling into the driveaway. Sophia quickly dabs at her eyes before she puts on a brave face, thinking of the comfort that comes with seeing them and letting that wash over her.
She sees the front door open just as he's getting their bags out, her mom rushing to hug her. She lets her strong arms envelop her, memorizing every bit of this feeling. "Hi," she breathes out. Her dad is the next one to hug her, and she tucks her head under his chin as he tells her how much he's missed her, letting the sound of his voice reverberate through her. "Me too, dad," she grins at him, her father's face mirroring hers. Her brother simply exchanges a wordless welcome, one that is second nature to them. "He's not the touchy kind, mom," she says as her mother appraises the man in front of her. Demetri is ever the perfect gentleman, greeting her warmly while he gives her brother a nod. "Hello sir," he greets her father, and while the gray-haired man returns the greeting, she can see his reservation as he watches the younger looking man walk in with her. Even though her partner is millennia old, it still feels like she is introducing him to someone old enough to be his dad. Which on the surface, she is.
They go up to her room, untouched since she last stayed here months ago, the decor still the same from the end of undergrad. He looks around, a fond look on his face as he takes it all in. "This is where you grew up," he murmurs, a hand running across the covers and dust jackets spanning her bookshelf. "What book is that?" he asks, pulling out a copy of her newest acquisition. "The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue? It's about a girl in the late 18th century who wants to break free of her restrictive life and well, she accidentally makes a deal with the devil, but he's less the devil and more a very old god. She gets to see the world as much as she wants and stays immortal, but no one else ever remembers her, until one day in 2014, at an old bookstore. I got it way before all of this, but funny, how life works."
"What happens?" He asks, fingers running along the golden stars scattered on the cover. "Addie. What becomes of her?" How does she tell him that Addie loses the one person who finally sees her and ends up with the entity who made her like this in the first place? "Well, I won't spoil it for you, especially as you can finish reading it within the night." Demetri puts the book down on her desk, the two of them heading downstairs to the dining room, his gloved hand hovering on her back. She has weaseled them out of dinner due to the late hour, but her mom insists on them having a drink and talking before they all turn in for the night. "So," she begins, a glass of wine hovering in her hands as Sophia picks water instead; she wants to stay sober lest her drunk self give something away. "Here comes the customary get to know you. She hasn't told us anything about you, -"
"Demetri, Mezzasalma. I came to Harvard to further study Classics, specifically Greco-Roman myth and history, and well, we met during last year's fall break." She moves closer to him, using it as a chance to ensure that there are no situations where he will come in physical contact with anyone else. "Yeah, I was just walking back to my apartment and we both were at the same coffee shop and uh, we got to talking."
"Demetri, that's an Italian name?"
"Greek. My parents are from the area, but they lived there forever ago. We moved around quite a bit when I was younger, but my family eventually settled down in Italy." There's just enough truth to each statement for them to raise no suspicion, and he accepts the glass of wine she passes him, subtly kissing her on the cheek. They're really trying to sell the human bit, huh? "Yeah, he has some family friends in the area we're gonna see before classes start again in the fall."
"That's nice," her dad comments idly. "Sophia mentioned it has been only a month or so since you two got together?"
"Well," he smiles again, turning to look at her, "she already meant a lot to me and I didn't want to risk ruining our friendship. I also knew I would regret it for all of time if I didn't let her know, just in case. And well, I got really lucky."
"You are," her father says, his piercing stare set on the man beside her, "and I hope you understand that very well." The conversation on that topic dies there, and they move onto other things, such as future plans, her degree, his family, the like. They answer all questions with ease, tell them that they will head for his cousin's place back near Boston after two nights, then all get ready for bed. "I'm so glad you've brought him home," her brother says as they're putting the glasses in the dishwasher, "nice to see a guy who legitimately makes you light up. Like I know you've been happy on your own and weren't missing anything or person for that," he continues, "but it's nice to see someone who adds to it in a big way like this."
"I just hope they like him," she says quietly, the weight of their approval bearing on her more than she thought. She doesn't want them to think that she is unsafe or unhappy and when the inevitable comes to pass, that he had something to do with it. He will, but not in that way, and she doesn't want that to be their last impression of him. "Eh they do," her brother shrugs, shutting the appliance close, "dad is just being a hardass about it cause he can see you're serious about him. Also, he doesn't like it when you get hurt in any shape or form."
"He can't prevent it forever."
"You know he will try as long as he's here."
"I know."
"Mom loves him," he chuckles, "she was gushing over how sweet and gentlemanly he was, carrying your bags and his hand constantly hovering on your back. She's ready to have him as a son-in-law yesterday."
"Too soon," she grimaces, "like it very much is a possibility, but not yet. I feel like we still need to iron some stuff out."
"Does he know that?"
"Oh yeah. We had a talk about it and well, we want to see just how compatible we are with each other before we finally make that leap."
"Oh, so it's serious serious."
"Yeah dingbat, why the fuck you think I brought him home and not the other three guys before him?"
"Cause dad would not approve of Aiden and his tattoos for that one."
"That, and the fact that he proposed within two weeks of knowing me! And FYI, Demetri and I have been dating for more like two months and he is sane enough to not pop the question this early. Even if he wants to, he has the good sense to understand that it will scare any girl away and that I would rather not unless I was absolutely sure."
"Does he have tattoos though?"
"Nope."
"None?"
"None," she stresses, addressing the innuendo. Once they're done cleaning the living area, the two of them make their way to their respective rooms, finding the vampire perched on her bed in a set of his own pajamas, a quarter through the book already. She slips into the en-suite, a small smile on her face as she hears him flip a page. He's put the book down when she comes back out, legs stretched out over the duvet, looking around the room. "Seems like you were more of a wolf girl before," he grins, angling his head towards the Teen Wolf poster still on the inside of her closet door. "Why did I leave that open," Sophia groans, dragging a palm across her forehead. "It's cute," he replies, "seeing your teenage crushes and what caught your eye then." He's putting in a new set of contacts, the maroon of his eyes turned into a muddy brown.
"Stiles was so cute but so was Scott, and Derek was so serious," she plops onto the bed next to him. "They had golden eyes like the Cullens, only they were more yellow? But yeah. Teen Wolf was fun. It's nothing like the actual werewolves, and I wish it was. Would be less of an issue for us." He shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "It would, but it would also mean I'd never get to experience any of it with you, so I am a little thankful to them." She supposes she is too, for that reason. The exhaustion is setting in, and Sophia settles under the covers, sleep slowly creeping up.
The nightmares still come for her but they aren't as loud as the first time, and he rubs her back once again as his cool hands anchor her to safety, reminding her she's safe and alive. "We're okay," he murmurs, "we're okay." We're okay, she tells herself as the fear abates and a fresh wave of exhaustion comes for her, and this time she doesn't wake until her alarm rings. "Slept better this time," he states, propped up on an elbow as he kisses her shoulder. He would know because of her vitals, she realizes. "Do you feel rested?" Sophia nods for an answer, throwing an arm around his waist. "I don't wanna get out of bed but mom will make us," she grumbles as she hides her face in his torso. "We did come here to see her, cara." The book is sitting on the nightstand beside him. "What did you think? Of the book, not my mom, but also her."
"Your mother is wonderful," he replies, "and a very gracious host. As for the book, it was eye-opening in more ways than one." Hmm? "I take it you see yourself as one of them," she says, sitting up. Would he relate to Luc more or to Addy? No way it would be Henry. "I suppose I am both Addy and Luc, just at different points in life," he muses. "I did pray to the gods after dark, and I got what I asked for, just not in the way I wanted. I met my Henry and well, now I am the entity granting you that very wish." And soon I will be invisible, just like her. "You came in the form of a stranger, a friend, and then a lover."
The rest of the day is rainy and overcast, so they spend some time with her family, chatting on the covered patio. He nurses a coffee through the afternoon, and no one finds it weird when he excuses himself to the restroom after mealtimes under the guise of thoroughly washing his hands. She enjoys her parents' cooking to the fullest, and they all retire to the living room as evening draws near, settling in to watch something together. "We'll let our guest choose," her brother passes him the remote control, and Demetri takes a moment to consider before asking the TV to play The Empire Strikes Back. "A fairly neutral pick," he whispers to her as the opening crawls blares into action. They all chime in at their favourite lines, laughing when her brother does his impression of Vader's breathing and by the time the credits roll, they're all ready for dinner.
The next few days go by in a similar fashion, an idle peace existing as Demetri bonds with her father over classics and soccer, she plays Mario Kart with her brother, and they walk around town as she shows him her teenage and childhood haunts. They swing in the rusty park playground and steer clear of geese while they try to feed peas to ducks, and her mom shows him her childhood photographs as she tries to bury herself in a pile of couch cushions.
They both help make dinner on their last night there, and there's discussion of future plans and family gatherings, her dad offhandedly asking them if they would both be able to make it for Thanksgiving with their extended family. "We'd love to have you there, Demetri," her mother says warmly. "It'll be an instruction manual as to why she's nuts," her brother jokes, and the certainty of it makes her throat close up again. By the time she takes a seat at the table, her legs are ready to give way from under her.
"We'll certainly try to," he answers with a smile, covering her shaking hand with his. "I uh, I think I have something in my eye? Let me go flush it out," she says lamely before rushing to the bathroom, locking the door behind her as she runs the faucet to cover the sound of her heaving sobs. Sophia bites back the sound, letting herself feel it all until they begin to wonder about her. Once she's splashed and dried her face, she walks out, making a show of blinking vigorously.
"I think I got a speck of grass or something like that in my eye? Hurt like hell before the eye drops got it fully out." They don't question it, and everyone returns to the living room, making idle chatter as the news plays for background noise. It's not like she won't ever see them again - there will be video calls and excuses for why she can't come visit until they fake her death and remove her from the narrative. But there will never be family dinners again, no engagement parties or him bonding with her family over their shared dislike of her granduncle. No dress shopping with her mom, no father walking her down the aisle. She won't bring home a child - she won't be back home. Ever.
She wishes she had years left instead of just hours, but she will commit them to memory and when she looks back, she will remember it all with fondness. Before they head back to bed, she gives her mother and father the longest hug she ever has, a peace taking over. She won't fully lose them, which is a lot better than what most people get when they die. She will have years if she plays it right, and when they finally part for good, it won't hurt so much.
"I'm okay knowing I'll see them again," she murmurs into his chest as they lie in bed, her voice stronger than earlier. "Just not in person."
"Just not in person," he reaffirms.
"We can pull it off until I'm supposed to be 35," she quips. "Even 40, if we play it right."
"That's 13-14 years worth of video calls if we get to that point," he remarks.
"So many video calls," she laughs. "They just can't know what we are, right?"
"That is correct."
"Maybe this can work."
"You're ingenious enough to manage it."
When she leaves the next day, it's a lot lighter in spirit, promising her dad to call and stay in touch while her mother double checks the trunk to make sure they have packed everything they came with and more. This time, Demetri takes the wheel, the city fading in the rear view mirror as he speeds up, no maps guiding their way. She ends up dozing and when Sophia is woken up, the car is making its way up a wooded path, a beautiful modern Norwegian style house greeting them.
And like a dutiful host, at the steps waiting, is Carlisle Cullen.
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