A/n: Years later I realized I posted the wrong chapter. hah.
Chapter One: Out of the Woods
The sun shines bright in the sky as a breeze blows through multicolored trees. They stand tall, an array of dying leaves swirling through the air before descending gracefully to the ground.
Birds chirp a symphony into the wind. Squirrels scamper around, busy digging acorns into the soil in preparation for winters chill. Pregnant white-tail deer graze, ears flickering about to listen out for nearby predators.
All is serene. That is until, amongst the ground, a hand shoots out from beneath a thin layer of dirt and decaying leaves. A muffled scream follows, easing into a groan of pain. The nearby wildlife scatter, leaving silence in their wake.
Unbeknownst to the rest of the world a girl in her late twenties comes back to life in the body of a teenager. With her abnormal rebirth, the ticking hands on the clock of fate shift ever so slightly and—the story changes.
Like a worm escaping mud during a heavy rain, a woman coated in dirt thrashes her way from the tight grips of the ground, coughing and hacking.
Once in a seated position, she blankly takes in her surroundings, absentmindedly scrubbing grit from her cheek with no avail. Tongue leaden in her mouth she takes in a weary breath that tastes of pine. She smacks her lips together to force sleeping salivary glands back to life. It doesn't work.
Her head turns slowly as she's met with the sight of trees. Trees, trees and more trees. Oh, and a bush.
Huh. She's in the middle of the woods, it would seem.
Blonde brows draw together.
"The fuck?" she croaks, only to choke from the overwhelming dryness of her throat.
Her head aches, pulsing with each jolt of her body. She vaguely recalls being convinced the night before to go out to the bar with a few of her coworkers. Everything after was a blank slate.
Still coughing up a lung, the girl pulls herself up and over a small ledge. It takes a minute of struggle but she is able to free herself fully from the greedy forest floor. It takes more effort than her body is able to produce, it would seem.
Sweat mixes with the dirt already dusting her skin, creating a sort of disgusting shell. Her chest heaves in vain as she struggles to catch her breath.
None of that matters, though, when she glances back to what she just crawled out of. It sends her in a fit of pained, hysterical laughter. Her lungs burn. Eyes sting with unshed tears.
A shallow grave.
She had woken up in a shallow fucking grave. What the fuck had she gotten up to last night that would warrant being buried alive? And very poorly, might she add.
The hole was barely deep enough to hold a dog, let alone a human.
Her laughter is silenced just as abruptly as it had begun when she caught sight of the bare, dirty skin of her right thigh. Uncomprehendingly, she stared; face devoid of emotion.
Sure, an impromptu funeral was strange—there was no denying that. It was fact. But the tattoo of an anglerfish she's had since turning twenty not being there? That was worse—it cost 800-dollars.
With dawning horror, she cranes her neck back to try and catch a glimpse of the much larger tattoo of a phoenix that envelops her entire back.
Nothing.
She faced forward and stared off into the distance, face pulled tight and lips pursed. The wind picked up, sending a chill down her spine.
Now, she was no dermatologist, but tattoos didn't just disappear over the course of a night. Laser removal was a process—one she has never and would never consider.
It hurt enough getting them done, thank you, so she can only imagine getting it zapped off.
A sharp sting brings her out of her jumbled thought to her right arm.
Bewildered and hissing in pain she watches in stupefied silence as red markings crawl up the skin of her fingers, all the way to the bend of her arm. It glows brilliantly under the suns rays before fading to an inky black.
She blinks.
Rubs her eyes and blinks again.
It's still there.
Her breaths come out erratic as she shakes her arm wildly, ignoring her body's resistance to the movement.
It stayed.
The markings themselves were…interesting, to say the least.
Bold line-work of multiple connecting symbols and what could look like words of one were to lean their head to the side and squint hard—like, really hard.
Fed up with this strange nightmare, she rises to her feet with all the grace of a newborn deer. She leans heavily against a nearby tree, fingers digging into the bark. With deep, calming breaths she is able to calm her thrumming heart.
Fuck whatever was going on, she needed to find water. The dryness in her mouth and throat was driving her even closer to insanity. At least it gave her an objective to look forward to.
She stumbled through the woods like a drunk flamingo. Brumble bushes cut along her flesh but it kept her mind sharp and alert. For whatever reason her body felt odd. As if she were a skin-walker getting used to a new form. One that didn't fit quite right.
When she comes across a small pond and stream, she almost cries in elation.
Falling to her knees she cups her hands into the frigid water and drinks her fill. She tries her best to not think of how much bacteria could be lurking in the precious liquid. How many animals must have pissed or died in its cool waters.
Once satisfied she pulls off her black tank-top over and plunges her head in the pond, fingers working at her scalp in an effort to make herself somewhat presentable. After it was as clean as possible with no shampoo, she wet her shirt and began the long process of wiping her skin.
As an afterthought she took off her shorts to shake them out, unconcerned at being so exposed. Her phone flung out of the back pocket with a thump. Letting out an exclamation of joy she picked up the device.
She wasted no time unlocking it, only to glare when a no signal notification popped up. And it was at 2%. Because why the hell not?
Putting the phone back onto the ground for safe-keeping, the girl went back to her previous tasks. She shimmied back into her shorts and rung out her soaked shirt.
Google maps was out of the question, so her only choice was to walk in one direction and hope she came across a road. Or a house. Whichever came first, she decided with a nod.
Whomever was to blame for her current situation was a dead man—or woman—walking. They should've done a better job at getting rid of her, because righteous fury burned hot in her veins. The boss didn't call her a cockroach for nothing.
Slipping her now damp and wrinkled shirt back on, She looked analyzed her surroundings once more. A leaf smacked across her cheek, causing another string of confusion to overcome her thoughts.
It was strange, she thought, how colorful the trees were in September. Florida usually didn't show such signs until mid-October. There also weren't anoles crawling everywhere. Shaking her head, She filed those thoughts away for later. She needed to find a way out of the woods, first.
Choosing a way to start walking by ways of eenie-meenie-minie-moe, she continued on her way.
…
Hours later and her luck had returned. Asphalt had never looked so wonderful in her entire existence. Since it had proven helpful once before, She used the mighty powers of eenie-meenie-minie-moe once more.
Que walking for several more hours as cars passed by. Uncaring of the young woman attempting (and failing) to hitchhike. It was regrettable, truly. Even if she couldn't fault them—one too many horror stories including picking up someone on the side of the road had left a bitter taste in her mouth—but God damnit she wished at least one of them would stop.
All she wanted was to get to the nearest place with other humans and find out where the hell she was. Along with a hot shower and stiff drink. A simple request, really, for the shitty day she's been having.
With a heavy sigh She pulled her phone out once more to see if it had gained signal. Nothing. It took every ounce of self-restraint in her exhausted body not to toss the worthless hunk of plastic into the woods. Before that could happen it shut off; dead.
The urge to scream at the ever-darkening sky tickled at the back of her throat. She didn't, of course.
That would be silly.
Instead, she flicked off the setting sun, cursing it for being a stupid fiery bastard.
A rumbling erupted from her stomach, giving her pause. When was the last time she'd had a decent meal that wasn't shitty bar peanuts? And why of all times did she think it was a good idea to wear new boots? Already her ankles were a bloody mess.
Her eyes burned and—'god, am I about to cry?' Shit on a stick, when had she become so pathetic?
The sound of an engine met her ears and she swiftly turned around in newfound hope, throwing out a thumb.
Please, Feline Gods. If you are out there, let this person stop!
They zoomed by for a few feet before hitting the breaks and backing up.
She could have fallen to her knees and wailed in happiness, but there was no need to spook the driver before they even allowed her into the vehicle.
A chilly wind lazily swept through her hair and she moved faster. Wrapping goose-bumped arms around herself, she made her way to the passenger window as it lowered.
"Goodness gracious. What is a little thing like you doing out here?" An old lady with fuzzy white hair and milky brown eyes framed by thick box glasses called out in concern.
The smell seeping from in the car reminded her of an old persons home. A pungent scent of decay and mothballs that seemed to come from every elderly person to walk the earth.
At least if the hag turned out to be crazy the young woman would have a chance. If the old bitty tried anything silly, She could just throw her old ass out the door—or maybe shove her into the trunk—and drive off with the car.
Silver-linings and all.
"My friends abandoned me on the side of the road." She said, adding just enough emotion into the statement to make it sound real.
A look of pity, "You poor thing. Would you like a ride, dear?"
No, I need a fucking candle—of course I want a ride! The young woman nodded, all charming smiles, "If you're offering, ma'am. I wouldn't want to be a bother…"
The elder grinned back warmly and leaned over to unlock the passenger door, "No bother at all. Mystic Falls is just a few miles ahead. I can drop you off there."
At that moment, anywhere sounded better than walking.
"I'll accept your gracious off, then. Thank you so much."
She opened the door as soon as it unlocked and sat down with a content sigh. You never knew how wonderful sitting was until you walked miles in a new pair of shoes. The door closed easily, trapping them together for the next foreseeable hour or two.
"Don't forget to buckle up."
She did as instructed and they were off. This granny was looking more and more like an angel by the minute. Still, her guard was up.
Wouldn't be the first time She had crossed paths with a deceptively innocent person who was rotten on the inside. She glanced at herself in the side-view mirror and grinned, the dimples on her cheeks deepening as silver-gray eyes glinted in the sun.
…
Trees passed by in a blur of warm tones, illuminated by the burning rays of the setting sun.
It was beautiful and foreign all the same. Being from Florida her only experience seeing such a change of seasons was through pictures. It was magnificent.
Her fingers itched for colored pencils and paper to capture the scenery. The way the yellows blended so easily with the orange and browns calmed her chaotic mind.
Both She and the old woman—Doris—chatted back and forth about nonsensical things in polite conversation. Doris easily shared stories of her children and grandchildren; how she was driving to visit them for two weeks.
In turn She spoke of how she was never close with her mothers parents—her father had none considering he was an orphan—and how they never really liked her considering she was born out of wedlock.
Doris quickly changed the subject after that, instead lecturing Her on the dangers of hitchhiking, and then offered some saltine crackers and caramel candies. The old woman's hands clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel, sporadically sending glances Her way.
The young woman didn't bring up the fact picking up said hitchhikers was even more dangerous. Doris seemed too kind to help it.
In no time they were passing a sign that read "Welcome to Mystic Falls Virginia!" written on it.
Virginia. She was in fucking Virginia of all places.
Why was she in Virginia? That was plenty far from Florida.
Something was definitely wrong.
"So, what caused such a pretty young lady to have to hitchhike?" the elderly woman asked, breaking the awkward silence with a wan lift to thin lips.
The question gave Her pause. It wasn't as if she could say "Oh I woke up in the middle of the woods after a night of drinking in a shallow grave. Mondays, amIright?" could she?
"I'm not sure." She replied vaguely. That would have to do.
Doris tooted like a disapproving grandma, "It's not safe for a young woman to be hitchhiking these days. There are a lot of dangerous people out there that would take advantage of you."
Like picking up a hitchhiker is better, old hag.
"I know. Sadly I had no other choice. Thank you for stopping, by the way. It really means a lot to me." She drawled, not meaning the words at all.
"Now, I don't want to hear another thing about it. Us pretty girls need to stick together." Doris winked. Right. Pretty.
She once again took out her phone but it was still dead as a doornail. A defeated sigh passed through her lips as she tapped the worthless block against her hand in irritation. From the corner of her eye, Doris looked over and eyed the phone suspiciously.
"What kind of device is that?" Doris annoyingly inquired. "Looks different from the kind my grandkids have."
Ugh. She hated it when people tried too hard to keep a conversation going. Just made them come off as overbearing and annoying. The act of small talk was exhausting.
"It's just an old galaxy; nothing too fancy."
"Never heard of it."
The young woman hummed, nodding her head in understanding. Old people tended to be out of touch with technology. When her grandparents were alive, they use to rant about how electronics were sinful and that devils lived in the television.
They weren't what one would call sane, though. Every time she would visit as a girl, they would rave about how she was cursed and evil incarnate.
Which, they weren't wrong. Still, it made their deaths that much more ironic considering they died in a house fire. Karma was a bitch sometimes. All the time they told her she'd burn in hell and they burned alive in their big house.
A gas fire, the police had said. An unknown arsonist.
Time passed as She reminisced their deaths—it was one of her fondest familial memories, after all.
Before long, Doris pulled up to what looked like some sort of restaurant and stopped.
"Here's where we part ways, dear." Doris shuffled around in her giant purse and handed Her a card. "Here's my number. I'll be stopping by again in two weeks. Be sure to give me a ring if you need anything. They should have a telephone inside you can use to get ahold of your family."
The words barely registered in Her mind as she stared instead at the name splayed in big, bold letters across the front of the building.
Mystic Grill.
The hell? What was this place? Mystic Falls, Mystic Grill—was this some sort of fan-made town?
She shook her head with a roll of her eyes. She wouldn't be surprised if they sold some sort of "blood" drink.
She turned Doris, smile cemented in place. "My family is dead." Was her short answer as she exited the car, sure to grab some candies for the road. "Thank you again, Miss Doris. You have no idea who much I appreciate your help. No more picking up strangers, mkay? Never know what crazies you could pick up." She winked.
After a shared laugh—Doris's strained—she drove off. The young woman sent one more wave to the disappearing car noticing the "God us with you." sticker on the bumper. She rolled her eyes, turning around to the poop-green building.
Tan overhangs protected customers from the sun. The chairs and table were wooden with an ugly olive-colored weaving as back support.
As she went to enter the building, a girl with brown hair came bustling out, holding a tray full of drinks. Fast on her feet, She moved out of the way. The idiot had her head down, seemingly too focused as she shuffled to a nearby table.
"Here's the drinks you ordered. Sweet tea—"
The young woman huffed before stepping through the door. Rude.
It was nicer on the inside. Larger than what she had originally thought. They did an amazing job recreating the Mystic Grill, if her memory served right.
Dark wooden floors scoffed with what looked like years of wear. She made her way past a stone fireplaces. Though they were unlit the musky scent of ash mixed with savory meat.
It was rather dark inside except for where low-hanging laps set off an orange glow, lighting enough of the walkway for people to see. There were various conversations going on, backlit by the clanking of a pool table.
The ambiance just screamed 'small town.'
"Table for one?" a perky brunette asked with a red-stained smile. She had a little on her teeth.
"Actually," the woman said, still looking around in discomfort, "Do you have a phone I could use?"
"Sure do! Follow me."
As they walked around the beautifully recreated tables and chairs, she took her time soaking in her surroundings. This place… Oddly enough, she felt as if she had been here before…
When her gaze met with a group of teenagers sitting together at a table, the oxygen left her lungs.
A feeling of dread bubbled up in her chest. What the absolute fuck?
Sitting there was Elena Gilbert and Caroline Forbes—or Nina and Candice. What were they doing in a place like this? Was it some sort of charity? Or could she have stumbled on a set of some sort?
No, that wasn't possible. The series already ended and these people looked young. As if they were actual kids.
She looked around again in a vain attempt to spot cameras or a crew. There was nothing of the sort.
…Mystic Falls, Virginia…
Nope.
"Here's the phone." She practically lunged for the device, snatching it from the girl and frantically typing her coworker's number.
"The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable-"
Nope!
Next, She tried her childhood landline, glad to have kept paying the bill after everyone died. For once, it wasn't so she could hear her father's voice—it was to try and make life make sense. What was once a comfort felt like a desperate grab for sanity. "The number-"
NOPE!
Her breathing was harsh, heart beating so hard in her chest she was sure anyone in a mile radius could its trembling.
Was it this hot before? It was like a sauna in the damn building.
Movement caught her attention and her eyes once again fell to the teenager's table. If the collective looks they were sending her way were anything to go by, she probably looked like a crazy person.
Actually, a lot of people were staring at her. Some in annoyance and others with concern. She guessed she did slam the phone a bit harder than necessary that last time…
She needed to get out of there. The walls were closing in and it was getting harder to breath. Hopefully she'd end up somewhere that made sense—but Nina suddenly stood with an audible gasp, brown eyes alight with recognition and worry.
"Jessica!?" she called out, voice cracking with emotion.
'Jessica' froze like a deer stuck in the headlights of an oncoming truck. The teen was obviously looking her way. There was no one else around.
However, there was one glaring issues that was obvious only to her; that wasn't her name.
The brunette star began walking Her way tears collecting like dew in her eyes. "Jay, we've been looking everywhere for you! Where have you been!?"
In one last desperate attempt, Jay (that was closer to her actual name) looked around to see if Nina was speaking to someone behind her.
Negative, Ghost Rider: still alone.
Then Nina Dobrev was wrapping willowy arms around Jay in a tight hug.
Why is Nina Dobrev hugging me? she thought desperately.
Overwhelmed, Jay did the first thing that came to mind. Stating loudly: "I reject this development."
Nina—no Elena—leaned back enough to look down at her, confusion bringing expressive eyebrows together. With that, Jay pushed the teen look-a-like away roughly from her person and did the one thing her body was screaming at her to do.
She speed-walked the fuck away.
In her hurry she practically—well, literally—ran into Paul Wesley. Today is just getting worse and worse.
"Woah, there." His hands came to rest on her shoulders to balance her, but Jay just shook her head further, swatting his hands away frantically (much like walking into a spiderweb) and broke from his grip violently. Then she plowed through the door to freedom.
Finally out in the open, Jay took a deep breath and wiped tired hands down her face, fighting back the hysterical laughter.
This was insane. Was she having an episode? It didn't feel like it was. And her head, it hurt so God damn bad that it couldn't possibly be her imagination.
Everything—the waking in the woods, disappearance of tattoos and appearance of a new one…it was too much. Too much.
Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch-
She didn't waste another thought before running away at full speed, to hell with pain shooting up from worn feet. Running was, at the very least, something that was normal.
She ran all of the time. Hell, she had even completed a few marathons in her late teens.
Therefore, that was what she did. She ran until her legs throbbed with pain, about to give out, hoping desperately for a moment of clarity.
Only when she was sure her legs and lungs could take no more did she slow down, looking for somewhere to take shelter from reality. If this was reality.
A rather empty alleyway caught her eye. She pushed her jellied legs toward it and hid behind a rusty blue metal dumpster.
Her breathing still wasn't anywhere close to calming. In fact, her lungs strained even more as they filled with the rank smells of wet garbage, piss and heaven knew what else.
Really, Jay wished she could say this was her first time hiding in such an unsanitary area, but that would be a blatant lie.
There was that one time when she was seventeen and stupid when her 'friends' caught wind of her hanging around a police station (that had nothing to do with the delinquents) and instead of asking questions they were more inclined to send her to the hospital.
It didn't matter how well trained she was. When ten people, all with weapons, jump you there's little to do other than cover vital areas and wait it out. One foot in deaths door they had left her to die in a pile of garbage bags behind a food shack. It was pure chance that a worker came across her battered body while closing shop.
That was the last time she had ever made friends with the dumbass wannabe's that plagued her high school. All of them wanted nothing more than to be part of a legitimate gang, blinded by their lust for violence.
Her Godfather's group was much better, in her humbled opinion. At least they had a code to live by.
Jay brought her quivering legs to her chest and buried her aching head between them. Everything felt too real to be a dream or hallucination. Yet it was so foreign there couldn't be any other viable answer.
Maybe someone had spiked pond she drank from with acid.
Nina called her by a different name. The youthfulness in their faces was also startling. Nina/Elena looked like a real teenager. All of them did. Even Paul, who she had laughed at the thought of being frozen as a vampire at 18. Dude looked every year of his mid-twenties.
Jay couldn't shake the memory of the expressions on Elena and Caroline's faces. A look given to those whom you are familiar.
Stepping back mentally, Jay tapped her fingers against her shin and began counting. One, two, three, four, five…
Everything was fine.
She tapped the fingers of her other hand similarly.
One, two, three, four, five…
Good. All fingers were there. Five on each hand, ten in total. The ground was solid under her, pieces of gravel (and who knew what else) pressed uncomfortably into the bare skin of her upper thighs.
Frigid wind blew through the alley much like a vacuum, shifting her hair and mixing the scent of garbage and sweat into her nose. The temperature was dropping enough to cause discomfort.
Goose bumps scattered across her skin—another sign pointing to reality.
Jay was comfortable enough in herself to know her delusions couldn't be this realistic.
Okay. Know what. She just needed to sleep. A good rest would make her feel better—and if she were lucky enough, Jay would wake up in her bedroom. Then she would have a hearty laugh about her crazy dreams over a cup of hot coffee and head to work.
Exhaustion pulled at the corners of her mind. Walking/ running all day would do that to a person.
Nope. All of those thoughts and problems were for future her to deal with.
.
.
.
"Why are you doing this, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Do you not wish to go home? Would you rather waste away in this boring world?"
.
.
.
A constant, annoying bump against her leg jolted her back to the world of the living. What a strange dream. There were no faces, just darkness, yet the voices had been so clear—her own and some unknown man.
As the kicking became harsher, Jay's sleep-blurred eyes snapped open. The view of disgustingly dirty, worn jean-clad legs greeted her. A sneer was already making its way onto her expression.
Who dare disturb my slumber?
"—my place, get out!"
Her gaze traveled up the legs, sight sharpening to glare at the owner. On a long list of pet peeves, being screamed awake ranked high on her Top Ten. Alas, as she was finally faced with just who woke her, the blood left her face pasty.
It was a damn hobo. One of the most terrifyingly dangerous creatures alive. Highly territorial and—most times—drunk and stupid. Three immensely fatal characteristics.
His beard was scruffy and gray-stained, flecked dandruff, hinting on an age of around 40-50.
Older, so more experienced.
The dull gray beanie covered his head, slumped over like a sock, with a few suspicious stains on it. On his torso was an oversize, muddy brown jacket. More stains. One looked unmistakably like dried blood.
"You hear me, missy?" he shouted angrily, spittle flying from his mouth. "This is my place!"
"I don't see your name on it." She challenged. Rule ten: don't show fear.
The hobo pointed to a place on the garbage can behind her in answer. She turned slightly, sure to make it as quick as possible. Scratched on its rusty blue surface were the words Joe's Place.
Jay's eyebrows shot up high on her forehead as she muttered, "Well I'll be dammed…"
'Joe's' chest puffed out in pride, "Yeah. Read it and weep little lady." He gloated, as if the dumpster was a mansion. Who knew, maybe in the land of hobos it was.
Thankfully, she wasn't a hobo, so her knowledge of hobo etiquette was lacking.
"How do I know for sure you're really Joe? You could just as easily be a Frank."
His eyes narrowed, anger dancing behind the odd murkiness that lurked in his gaze. Alcohol, maybe? The yellow tinting his sclera spoke of untreated liver issues.
There was movement and shine of reflective light.
Maybe-Joe raised his hand, brandishing a small pocketknife, pointing it directly at her face. She didn't flinch. "They call me Crazy Joe 'round these parts. An' if you stay any longer, you'll find out why."
Raising her hands slowly in surrender Jay shuffled to her feet. Inside, a brewing storm of fury twist into creation
"Okay, okay. I'm leaving now. No need to get your panties in a bunch." She grumbled, backing away. "I just don't have anywhere else to go right now…" her feet slowed in their pace; bottom lip poked out pitifully—hoping Joe would maybe have a change of hea—
His weathered face scrunched in disgust, "Not my problem, hooker. Now scat!"
Hobo's these days…
Knowing when to call it quits—yeah right—Jay backed fully out of the alley, a cold and calculating glint behind her steely gaze. "You're going to regret this 'Crazy Joe.'" She threatened menacingly, empty rage and vengeance coursing through her veins.
When he lunged, she had already bolted.
Jay ran for a few blocks, a few glances tossed over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't following. Confident he wasn't Jay slowed down to a frustrated speed-walk. Her ankles were likely a bloody mess at that point. Still, she trudged on.
Pain was relative.
So, sleep wouldn't be her salvation in returning home. That sucked—and to make matters worse, she lost her sleeping space to an old scraggly man.
Shit, shit, SHIT!
Joe would pay, and dearly. He would rue the day he pulled a knife on her and threatened her existence. And it would be glorious. But until that day came, she was lost as with what to do.
There was nowhere for her to go. Unleashed in an area she knew nothing (yet everything) about. She hadn't finished The Vampire Diaries series but as long as she wasn't that far into the story, she was relatively safe.
In the course of a night her life had become a shitty fanfiction. Her situation couldn't get any fuckin' worse.
"Jessica?" her body froze mid-step. That was what Elena had called her. "Well, I'll be a bat outta hell. It is you!"
Jay turned around with a grimace, ready to unleash one hell of a tantrum of that's not my name! When she fully faced the voice, though, she turned, ready to escape once more (she was doing that a lot lately—running away from her problems.)
She would have gotten away, too, had Officer Forbes not been standing close enough to grab her arm in a vice-like grip.
"Oh no you don't! Your family has been going crazy trying to find you. Everyone thought you had skipped town." Forbes shook her head—as if it were the worst-case scenario she could come up with—and pulled her to the nearby police car.
How had I missed that?
"I'm taking you straight home. I understand why you ran away, trust me I do, but it was selfish of you to leave your siblings so soon after what happened."
She wanted to scream that she was an only child, but Forbes sent a scathing glare that made the words die on her lips. Inside, she was frothing at the mouth.
How dare she treat her like an adolescent! She was twenty-five fuckin years old—almost twenty-six!
"Excuse me but—"
"I don't want to hear it!"
And that was the story of how Jay had her first ride in a police car in a place not her world. Joy.
…
Buildings passed by as the sheriff drove, taking Jay to her doom. There was no music playing, just the sounds of the vents running heat through the cruiser.
If she were to try be optimistic, she could tell herself that at least she was finally warm. That wasn't the case. Instead of being comfortable, she was near boiling. From anger or the vents, she couldn't tell.
Every feeling she was going through was mixing like a rainbow bath bomb of emotions.
Soon she would be nothing more than brown, lukewarm ass-water.
The cruiser pulled to a stop.
Jay let her head fall back, part thankful to be out of the car and the other suspicious. Sitting in a car with an angry woman carrying a gun and being snapped at to "shut it" every time she tried to explain herself wasn't an enjoyable experience.
Dispassionately Jay looked out of the window to the house they had stopped in front of—
Oh HELL no- "You've got to be shitting me."
"Language, young lady!"
Her mouth closed with a snap. Officer Forbes forced Jay out of the car—fuck her flimsy respect for authority; she wasn't going anywhere near that damn mad house. At least not without a fight.
She even contemplated biting the older woman.
Hello, Rock Bottom, thine name is-
"Jessica!"
That's not my name!
Jay turned to Liz, hoping to convince the insane woman to let her go. "Please, no. There has been some catastrophically huge misunderstanding—"
Familiar arms wrapped around her in a death-grip.
"I was just on my way out to the fundraiser when I got your text. Thank you for bringing her home, Miss. Forbes!" Elena exclaimed enthusiastically.
Tears began to form in Jay's eyes.
Another body ran into the duo, almost toppling them over in a blur of strawberry blonde. Jenna, she realized. She smelt like coffee. Ohh, beautiful coffee.
"Jessica Gilbert, don't you ever do this to us again! We were worried sick. Where did you even go? And is that a tattoo!?"
All three women looked at her expectantly. Waiting for an answer, she realized.
"Uhm…" her voice cracked just trying to make that singular noise. Then the tears fell rapidly out of her eye sockets. I'm fucked.
Jemma's face softened drastically. "Never mind. You can tell us when you're ready… I'm just so relieved you are back safe."
The tears fell faster. They weren't those kinds of tears! They were tears of terror.
True and utter terror.
She was in hell. Somewhere between the bar and woods, Jay had passed through some veil of existence and fell into Hell. What could she possibly have done to warrant being thrown into a world where vampires existed?
Sheriff Forbes left soon after with a pat on her back and wide, warm smile. Of course, after she was convinced Jay wouldn't be able to 'run away' (escape) again.
It was all a bit excessive and overdramatic in Jays humble opinion. All of it was.
Speaking of dramatic, Elena also left, saying she was late for a fundraiser and that Caroline would kill her if she didn't show up.
What a great… What was the teen to 'Jessica' again? A cousin, maybe? Sister? The uniformed blonde devil had mentioned something about siblings.
Man. All of this is giving me one hell of a stress headache. Jay thought to herself.
Well—that was the end of the story! Her headache ended up being a blood vessel bursting in her brain.
Sigh.
If only.
Jemma ushered Jay inside to sit at the kitchen bar in the Gilbert house. The strawberry blonde wasted no time grilling into the frazzled woman's about how "family sticks together" and (her personal favorite) "as a family we need to be there for each other."
The last one made her chuckle. 'Ya know, since Elena (part of the supposed 'family') left immediately after Jay had returned.
She sat staring off into space as the redhead talked her ears off, completely uninterested in whatever was spewing out of her mouth. A not so healthy family (when they were alive) made her numb to those sorts of talks. Or maybe she was disassociating? Who knew.
Could really go for a sandwich, though. It had been forever…
Wait.
This was 'her house.' If she wanted to eat all of their food, no one would question it.
Yeah, suck it, Joe. At least she had food. Pushing down another pang of anger, Jay stood up. Later, she told herself firmly, I'll deal with him later.
Half listening to Jemma, Jay stood up and began her raid of their food supply. She ignored the strange looks the babbling woman tossed her way as she opened every cabinet. It took a few tries to find out which actually held food and not plates.
"We all thought you were dead, or worse—"
Seriously, who owned so many sets of dining ware? There were even books in one of them. Sure, they were for cooking and diets, but why not put them somewhere else? Like a bookshelf. They had enough space.
With a shrug Jay grabbed a bowl and zipped to the cabinets near the fridge. She'd made a PB&J another time.
Every house with teenagers had cereal and the effort to make a sandwich was too much.
"There have been animal attacks happening left and right—"
A grin spread widely over her full lips when, at last, she came across a box of Lucky Charms. It was just a coincidence that it was her favorite cereal. Just a happy coincidence, nothing more.
"Do you even care that a mountain lion could have mauled you?"
Next, she stuck her head into the fridge to see if they had any almond milk. She'd always hated the putrid taste of milk from cows. Ice cream was okay, though. Just liquid milk.
"Don't even get me started on how Elena has been in a constant state of worry thanks to you!"
A snort—that totally didn't sound like a pig—came from the wandering woman. Her mouth moved without consent from her brain, "Sure. Because I always go out in a bikini when I'm worried—man there's no almond milk?" she whined, knocking her head against the open door of the fridge.
Jay was pulled back from the fridge by her arm. Angry hazel eyes bore into her skull. "This is serious, Jessie! You've been gone for five months."
Her eyebrows rose, eyes trailing down to the fingers digging into her triceps. Hm. This Jessica chick sounded like a bitch. Too bad she wasn't her!
Jenna's eyes softened slightly as she released the other girl. It would probably bruise. Tender skin had always been an issue she delt with.
Any rough handling and boom! Bruise-vile. As a teenager, that fact caused her mother to think she was sexually active.
That wasn't the case. She was a virgin until twenty, for fucks sake. But it wasn't like Jay could have told her mother that her father was teaching her to fight. How every weekend they went on 'trips' to his shady business partners house so she could learn the ropes of killing, just like him.
It was impossible. So, Jay had embraced her mother's disapproval and created an alibi out of it.
"Be smart and lie smarter. If someone believes something about you, make it work to your own benefit. Remember. Rule number four: stay two steps ahead."
Her father's voice was ever present in her mind. His lessons something she had clung to like a child to their favorite blanket.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled like that. It's just… It's been hard without you. I am terrible at this guardian thing, if you haven't noticed." –Jay nodded her head to that; Jenna was kind of a shitty pseudo parent in the series—"But I'm trying. We all are. Jeremy needs his other sister and Elena needs her twin. We're a mess."
Yet another thing Jay could agree with. This family was horrible. Dangerous secrets withheld that could have saved so many lives, all in the name of protection. And don't even get her started on how Elena treated Jeremy—wait.
Back the fuck up.
Jessica was Elena's twin!? She was supposed to be Elena's twin? That was hilarious. So much so that Jay outright laughed in Jemma's face.
Elena was her complete opposite! Jay had wavy light blonde hair, for fucks sake! Her 'brother and sister' were both brunettes with dark eyes and tall statures, whereas Jay had pale gray eyes and barely reached five-two!
At least they could pass for siblings—which they weren't. Jessica must have been the mail-man's love child.
Know what, she wasn't even going to begin trying to rationalize that shit. If she did, she'd probably actually die.
Jenna was looking her was as if she were crazy. Which she was, but they didn't know that, no matter how much they believed otherwise. Jay wasn't their Jessie.
"Soo…" she whistled, looking everywhere but the redhead, "Is that a no to the almond milk…or?"
Throwing her hands in the air Jemma shouted, "You're impossible!" and stormed out of the kitchen.
That's what I was trying to say.
Unconcerned, Jay put all of the things she had collected away to the best of her abilities and decided to just eat a honey bun sitting in the cereal cabinet. On the other hand… maybe she would have two. Or three. She was starving.
As she munched on her meal, Jay decided it would be best to take a look around.
The house matched up rather well to what was shown on the show pretty well. Wooden floors tapped under her boots, meticulously clean. A relatively open concept with windows in every room fell into each other seamlessly.
She couldn't get over how over-done the place seemed. Like the person who decorated tried just a little too hard at trying to make the home feel welcoming.
Her feet carried her to one of two living (?) rooms. The one she ended up in, unlike the other, seemed less used. A place to entertain guests, perhaps, with barely a barely used loveseat and pair of plush cushioned chairs.
Pictures were scattered haphazardly around the room. She took special interest at a familiar looking 'Gilbert family picture' that had been shown on the series. The only difference was that her younger mug was also in it, a light upturn to her lips verses the grins of the siblings.
Jay took a big bite out of her second honey bun, humming. Interesting. So, it was true. Someone with her face lived in this particular world.
"Jessie?" that was going to get old really fast. "Is that really you?"
She turned and almost let out a sound of annoyance. Jeremy.
Rebellious teenagers weren't really her forte. She'd had some experiences with a few whilst working in retail and she had to say; not a good impression.
His face went from that of surprise to pitiful puppy. In a few strides, he was on her, hugging the air out of her lungs in a crushing grip. Goddammit, he was even taller than her.
"I-I've missed you so much," he sniffed, voice strained with emotion. "Elena has been unbearable without you here—and with mom and dad being…" he trailed off, shaking.
Jay pat his back with great reluctance. "There… There…?"
In the next moment he let go as if burned. "Why did you leave?" he accused.
He looked pretty hurt… and if she were being honest, she could relate to his pain. Growing up she had been an unwanted only child, scorned by her own mother and maternal grandparents. The only adult in her life who showed any interest was her father.
When he had passed, she was left alone.
Her mind came up blank when trying to think of something to say. She had no idea how this was supposed to work.
To them, she was their sister/ niece who had run away. And from what little information she'd gathered, had run away after their parents died.
No, she didn't know how to be a sibling nor act like one; but she remembered vividly how lost (and relieved) she had been when her mother had died. Soon after, her father followed.
Unlike the Gilbert siblings, Jay had no one. There wasn't anyone for her to lean on and care for her. Her parents were both only children, grandparents on both sides long dead. At eighteen she was already considered an adult.
Jays only solace was her supposed Godfather and his unsavory 'family'. Five years she had worked for him. Up until the point a coup occurred and he was murdered. She had barely been able to escape; claiming ignorance.
She wasn't this 'Jessica' everyone was so obsessed with, but they didn't know that.
Yeah… They didn't know… It would be so easy to stay with them until she found out some sort of way to get the fuck back home.
That and she really didn't want to sleep against a dumpster again.
With those thoughts running through her mind, she looked up to Jeremey with a compassion she couldn't bring herself to feel. Honestly, she didn't feel much for strangers, let alone characters in a show she'd watched as a teen to pass the time.
Jay wasn't exactly moved by sad stories; nor did she experience any length of lasting emotion. And yet, she felt compelled to make Jeremy feel better. A phantom heartache toward this child who wasn't even real. It was a drastic change.
Maybe she had caught something in that alleyway?
Jay cleared her throat. "Listen… I can't really explain why I did what I did,"—literally, she couldn't— "but I'm here now…? Things will get better, I promise."
The sadness in his expression turned swiftly to anger. "Know what? Save it. I don't need your stupid excuses." And then he stormed out of the house.
Huh.
Her compassion fell short and shattered onto the floor. That punk. And to think I was going to ask him to play video games.
Stupid teenagers.
With Jeremy gone and time to kill, Jay decided to do what she did best: watch TV.
Thankfully there was a fight on, so she could pretend one of the martial artists was really laying an ass whipping onto the disrespectful teenager who had called her perfectly constructed excuses stupid.
The only stupid thing in town was Damon. Searching years and years for a way to 'rescue' his love when she didn't give a granule of a fuck about him—now that was stupidity.
To fight with someone else—let alone a sibling—over some attention and affection? Completely irrational. Katherine had preyed on his brother and he viewed it as a competition. Disgusting.
And Stefan, with his constant brooding about being a ripper. You are what you are, why try and fight it?
This entire world needed therapy.
Jay's booted feet tapped lightly against each other atop their perch on the coffee table. After three more fights, she went back to the pantry to grab the rest of the Honey Buns and a can of soda.
The front door slamming, admittedly, scared the living shit out of her. Seriously. She may have farted out of fright.
Elena plopped down next to Jay as said woman took notice of how dark it was outside.
Television was the answer to everything.
Her gaze shifted to an obviously bothered Elena… Jay sighed heavily, resting her cheek on a closed fist. "Wanna talk about it?"
"Nope."
"…"
Jay shrugged. She hadn't cared in the first place, it just seemed like a 'sibling' thing to ask. After an awkward moment passed, she pushed the Honey Bun box toward Elena. Her 'twin' took one with her own sigh, ripping open the plastic and taking a hefty bite.
.
.
.
"Come on Martinez! Punch the fucker not the air!" Jay shout at the television while Elena giggled beside her on the couch.
It was a strange. Was this bonding?
"It's like you aren't even trying, man!"
"—and Martinez goes down in a KO! Looks like Fleming will now hold the title of light-weight champion!"
The remote flew out of her hand and connected against the TV with a crack. It fell to the floor in two pieces while commercials continued playing in the background.
"…"
"…"
"If you tell Jemma; I'll kill you in your sleep." Jay threatened seriously. "I'll make it look like an accident."
Amusement sparkling in brown eyes, Elena made a show of pretending to zip her lips shut and throw away the invisible key.
Wordlessly Jay plopped back onto the couch. Thankfully, this house had two separate televisions. Maybe she could steal the remote from there? Rich people were great, she decided.
Elena leaned over and put her head against the blonde's shoulder, making her freeze.
"I'm glad you're back…" mumbled her 'twin.' It took every fiber of Jay's being not to shrug the cuddly brunette's head off. "After I found that letter, I wasn't sure what to think. I thought that maybe you had… You know."
Ah, new development. If luck was on her side, maybe only Elena knew about the mysterious letter that sounded a lot like a suicide note.
Sure to keep her tone casual Jay made the effort to awkwardly stroke the top of Elena's head. "Do you still have it—the letter?"
A pregnant pause. "…Yes."
Good. Jay fought a smile as she made her voice as small as possible. "Could I have it then? I don't want to risk the others seeing it…"
"Um…y-yeah, sure."
Silence followed. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, per-say. Just different.
Jay felt as her eyelids grew heavier with every blink. That alleyway wasn't very comfortable—surprise, surprise—and she was sure whatever sleep she'd gotten from her uncomfortable position on the ground didn't last long. Maybe a few hours.
Add that to the warmth Elena was giving off, and she felt herself slowly being lulled into slumbers embrace.
The last thought that crossed her foggy mind was how utterly Mary-Sue this entire experience was. Thankfully, the universe wasn't too terrible since it didn't make her the main character. She was secondary at best and totally fine with it.
It meant she could escape whenever she wanted.