A/N: Wow! 3 reviews, 9 Followers, 6 Favourites and 43 Views in one day?! That's really sweet, guys. Thank you so much!

As a thank you, I've uploaded this chapter for you to enjoy. Hopefully this will inspire some more reviews! Just a little heads up that the majority of this story will be mostly from the OC's P.O.V.

As always guys, please review afterwards and no flaming, please :)

I don't own The Vampire Diaries, just this story. All characters (with the exception of the OC) belong to J.L Smith.

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AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

"Until you step into the unknown, you don't know what you're made of."
~Roy T. Bennett.

Present Day, 2010.
Grace's P.O.V.

~:A THOUSAND YEARS LATER:~

So there I was. Just sitting in my living room, minding my own business; sketching.

I always feel comfortable with a sheet of paper and some sort of drawing material, like a piece of black smudgy charcoal or an expensive good quality sketching pencil in hand. Once the pencil is in my hand, I just lose myself in my sketching and usually don't surface for several hours. By then, I'd have probably used up half a rainforest.

My laptop suddenly dinged, indicating that somebody had come onto Messenger. Setting aside my sketchbook, I picked up my laptop, thankfully not buried beneath the piles of crap accumulated on my coffee table and accessed Facebook messenger. It was Elena Gilbert, a pen-pal I had formed a friendship with back when I was bored and restless, and not even sketching could calm me down. It was odd, because I always get that way during full moons and I had no explanation for it. It was like it was psychologically in tuned to me.

Smiling, I accessed the blinking new conversation and read Elena's message:

Hey Grace! How's life? She wrote.

That was where I drew a blank. I frowned thoughtfully, as I decided on an appropriate answer to give her. Life nowadays sorta sucked and dragged for me. And I was actually trying to find something to do with my life. I had one year left to go on a correspondence degree in Professional Writing, and I was already attempting research on a novel I was trying to compose; but at the moment I had serious writer's block. A term my non-fiction creative writing professor scoffed at.

"There's no such thing…" She used to lecture us. Yeah, that's a load of bullshit. I had always wanted to throw back into her face: what do you think I was suffering right now? The story I was trying to bring to life was supposed to revolve around family, love, friendship and maybe a hint of betrayal that I could sneak in somehow, just to spice things up. But nope … drawing a huge colossal blank.

Fantastic … NOT!

I glanced down at the blank message bank before I sighed and decided to go with the honest truth.

Suffering for a massive case of writer's block. I typed back, and stabbed violently at the enter key.

I reached over and picked up my mug of coffee and took a sip, grimacing almost immediately at how cold it was. I laughed when I realised that I had really gotten into the zone again when I was sketching. I got up off the couch and flipped on the TV as I went through to the kitchen to make a fresh cup. By the time I had made a new drink – Hot Milo with three extremely large teaspoons this time – and accompanied it with a couple of chocolate biscotti, Elena finally replied. It was odd, normally she was fairly prompt with her responses.

Sounds like that sucks. Maybe I can help? She replied. I raised an eyebrow. Exactly how bored was she that she'd help a virtual stranger with their unfinished attempt of a novel? I glanced at my watch and my eyes widened in shock as I realised how late it was and questioned why she was up so late when it was a school night?

Can't sleep? I asked, glancing up at the TV which was broadcasting infomercials about the new Nutrabullet, that's been quite popular for a tiny blender. Elena responded quickly.

Not really. My Dad was attacked last night and we've only just gotten back from the hospital. I blinked at the monitor in astonishment. Wow, didn't see that one coming. Then something occurred to me. Hang on a sec…

Your dad? I thought he died in that car accident last year with your mum? I pointed out, questioning if I had suddenly dozed off and was having a very bizarre dream. Which of course, wouldn't be the first time. But so far, I haven't seen any appearances of my usual cast of REM induced characters, so I was most definitely awake still.

My computer dinged.

Oh right, you don't know. I recently found out that I was adopted. Who I thought was my dad was actually my uncle, and my uncle John turned out to be my biological father. O-kay then?

Well, shit. That doesn't sound complicated at all. Is your, uh, 'dad' alright? What the hell happened? I typed back, feeling the curiosity mounting. Elena's reply was instantaneous.

It's a little complicated. But suffice it to say, he was stabbed and had four of his fingers chopped off with Mom's meat cleaver. Yikes!

Wow… no wonder you can't sleep. Are you okay? I asked, feeling slightly concerned for the girl I have never met before in my life. Did I need to anonymously call the police for a possible domestic dispute?

Ha ha, I'm fine. Thanks for your concern. I don't really get on well with John, he's a bit of an arrogant, womanizing prick. I nearly took a spit take, and had to take a few minutes to stop laughing so hard, that I ended up nearly coughing up my lungs.

Wow, Elena. Tell me what you really think of him next time. Meow! I typed back. I glanced at my watch again, and realised that I needed to get some shut eye before my move to a new location began tomorrow morning. I gathered up my empty mug, plate and switched off the TV set while I waited for Elena to reply to my message.

Sure, you'll be the first to know. Elena responded. I giggled.

Well, Elena. I gotta sign off, I'm moving apartments tomorrow and I gotta get some shut eye. I typed, and scooped my laptop into my arms, and carried my sketchbook and pencils in the other as I padded down the hall to my room, flicking off light switches with my elbow as I went.

Oh great! Where you moving to? Elena wanted to know.

I honestly had no idea, but my heart and my head was telling me to move to Virginia somewhere. They hadn't steered me wrong so far, and I'd always wanted to look up the local museums to research about the Civil War. Having been born in England, I was always keen to learn more about history, and I had been told that Virginia was one of the few states in America that was rich with history revolving around that particular era. Plus, it might give me some inspiration for a bit of progress in my novel research. I bounced down onto my bed and quickly responded to Elena's question.

My realtor has given me a few apartments to choose from. But I'll let you know when I've settled. I replied.

Cool! Well, good night. I got school in the morning. Ugh! Talk soon! Elena replied, her words sounding a little more cheerful than when she first started this latest conversation.

She went offline, and I quickly switched off my laptop and stuffed it in my laptop case. Finally alone with my thoughts, I got myself comfortable up against my headboard and resumed creating my latest sketch. I was so focused upon my sketchbook, but I still wasn't quite sure why I had chosen specifically to draw this. But something told me that I had to document it, or I wouldn't be able to sleep well tonight. Not that my dreams were something I eagerly anticipated whenever I drifted off. It was rare that I ever had pleasant dreams, but when I did; the dream usually featured the blanked out faces of familiar, and yet unfamiliar strangers, but more often than not the presence of a handsome young man always whispering the same thing in my ear as he held me close in his arms: I love you, always and forever.

"What'cha drawing?" A juvenile European voice called out to me. I must've jumped ten feet into the air. I jerked my head towards the voice and saw my ghostly stalker sitting on the window bench, smirking at me.

"My suicide note." I replied, dryly, glaring a little at my friend Henrik, who laughed at my reply. "Do you get off scaring the hell outta me or something?" I demanded. Henrik shrugged nonchalantly.

"How else am I gonna get my kicks?" He responded with an innocent expression on his face. Innocent, my arse.

"Very funny." I retorted, before pulling up my legs and balancing my sketchbook on them. Henrik hopped off the bench and came over to sit next to me, peering down at the sketch.

"But in all seriousness, what are you drawing?" He asked, curiously. I shivered a little at his close presence (what is it with ghosts and the cold anyway?) and smudged the picture a little as I frowned down at it.

"I'm actually not entirely sure, to be honest. It just came to me." I replied. Henrik seemed to accept the answer, and sat back and continued watching me draw. After a while, he got bored and went back over to the window bench and stared out at the stars.

I paused for the moment and really observed him. There was something oddly familiar about Henrik, but for the life of me, I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly. All I knew was that he had some sort of relevance to me. He didn't look much older than his early teens, and my heart leapt up into my throat at the thought that he had died so young. And judging by the gruesome bloodied clothes he was wearing, it hadn't been a kind death. Henrik was a tall boy – well taller than me, but then again everybody is taller than me – kind of lanky and svelte, and had long dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. He was wearing a light grey tunic shirt (with several large bloody rips in the fabric that I uncomfortably avoided looking at directly) brown trousers and knee high brown traveler boots.

I decided to confront him about it.

"Why are you haunting me, Henrik?" I asked gently, grabbing his attention. He merely fixed me with an incredulous look.

"I've been around since you were born, and you choose now to ask me about it?" Henrik questioned back. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes the minute he responded to my question with a question. I really hated when people did that. It usually meant that they had something to hide.

"Yes." I replied, deadpan. There was silence for several minutes before we both burst out laughing. Eventually, we both sobered up and got serious. "But really, why me specifically?" I asked, hiccoughing slightly. Henrik wiped away his tears of mirth before he answered.

"I knew you once, back in the 11th century. We were very close friends." He replied, smiling a little sadly. I noticed.

"What's with the sad smile, did we have a row before you died?" I asked, getting a little worried I was bringing up bad memories that he'd rather not relive. Henrik gave me a very warm smile.

"No, Grace. Of course, not. You and I were as thick as thieves. My death was something else entirely." I relaxed a little, pleased that I hadn't been involved with that part of his demise.

"Can you tell me a little about it?" I asked, suddenly feeling very interested. Henrik hesitated a little, and I immediately backtracked. "You don't have to if it's too painful for you to remember." But Henrik raised his hand to stop me.

"No, it's quite alright. I've been dead for nearly a thousand years, I think it's time I got over it." He laughed a little weakly. My mouth dropped open.

"A thousand years?!" I breathed. Then Henrik smirked.

"Well, if we're going to get technical about it, I'm going to be fifteen forever. So…" He teased and I threw a pillow at him, which went straight through him and smacked into the opposite wall. Henrik merely glanced at it, then back at me with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" I ignored him and made myself comfortable, aware that it was steadily creeping closer to dawn and I had not gotten ready for bed. But I was too wired for sleep, and the chance of learning something interesting wasn't helping matters anyhow.

"C'mon, ghost boy. Tell me a bit about our history." I urged. Henrik shook his head, looking a bit exasperated but fond, and came over, perching cross-legged on my duvet.

"I'll give you a little bit of information, then you gotta go to sleep. I'll tell you more tomorrow while we travel to Virginia." He stated.

"Deal. Now talk!" I ordered. He gave me a mock salute, which was a little out of character for him, considering the type of upbringing he probably had and started talking.

"Both our families were originally from across the seas in what was originally called the Kingdom of Norway. Back then, my father told me that there was a terrible plague that had killed my eldest sister, which devastated my parents. One day, they heard stories about a new world that was free from diseases and death, and of which was populated with beings blessed with health, strength and senses. Those who were able to immediately set sail for 'the new world' which was what we called America back then." Henrik explained.

I frowned with confusion.

"But I thought that America hadn't been discovered yet." I stated. Henrik smirked.

"Well, now you know." He said. I nodded, letting what he told me already sink in. I didn't have to wait long for him to continue his tale. "For the next 20 years, my parents, who already had two small children – two little boys, my older brothers – settled down and had more children that included me, my two older brothers and my second older sister. And your parents had you during those same years." He said. Henrik was the youngest of seven children? Wow, his mother must've had her hands full.

"Was my name Grace back then too?" I asked, hoping that it wasn't. It would be too freaky if my parents now, had decided to name the exact same name as the girl Henrik knew a thousand years ago. But Henrik laughed and shook his head.

"No. You were known as Gráinne back then." I nodded, relieved. "We basically grew up together with my siblings, and you formed a close friendship with my sister and was engaged to be married to my favourite brother." My eyes widened in shock.

"I was engaged?" I breathed.

Henrik nodded, confused about my reaction. I barely noticed, I was too busy letting the knowledge that I was going to be married sink in. I always thought that I'd never get married, due to how long my previous relationships always lasted. I smiled; I figured there was always hope for me yet. Then I noticed the sad expression on Henrik's face and I knew that what I was about to hear next wasn't going to be nice. But before I could ask him to continue, I let out an embarrassingly loud yawn.

Henrik sniggered.

"What are you laughing at?" I grumbled, before I put my sketchbook on my bedside table along with my sketching pencils and made myself comfortable. "I wish I could've known your family, Henrik." I mumbled before rolling over and closing my eyes. "Good night, Henrik." I slurred. The last thing I remember before falling dead asleep was Henrik's voice whispering in my ear.

"Be careful what you wish for, Grace, you might just get it."

~:Grace's Dream:~

Dead leaves crackle underneath my bare feet with every step that I take. It is a warm spring dusk, and a gentle breeze blows through the trees surrounding me and caressing my skin. Something tickles the back of my legs and I instinctively glance down and see that I'm wearing a simple but beautiful bohemian style dress I've never seen before. It is red with a circular neckline and sleeves that end at my elbows.

I frown with confusion. What is this? Little Red Riding Hood? This is obviously a dream, but where the hell was I? A twig snaps behind me and I quickly turn and see Henrik standing there wearing pretty much the same clothes as I've always seen him in, except these are pristine and clean with no rips or tears or any traces of blood or dirt on them. He looks just as confused as I do.

"Henrik? Are you really here, or am I dreaming this?" I question him. He approaches me and glances around warily.

"I guess I am here, I just don't know how I'm here. As for your other question: Your guess is probably as good as mine." Henrik replies. A low growl is heard, and I jump in fright.

"What was that?" I muttered. I glance around before looking over to Henrik for an answer, and see him staring at something behind me; looking white as a sheet. "Henrik? Are you okay?" He doesn't respond, too blinkered on what he was staring at. "Talk to me, honey. You're starting to scare me." I demanded, firmly. Henrik shows signs of life, by raising his hand and pointing towards something. I follow his finger and turned to see a large, snarling black wolf standing a few feet away from us. "Holy shit…" I muttered, and immediately attempt to shield Henrik behind me. So there's the Big Bad Wolf… I thought sardonically. Henrik doesn't hesitate for a second to get behind me. I couldn't help but feel a little bit used.

"W-what do we do?" Henrik stuttered, alarming me about how frightened he actually sounded. I filed that away for future questioning, and focused on the present danger. That was when I was momentarily annoyed. Why am I always in constant danger in my dreams?

"I'm working on it." I promised. Then I got an idea, and immediately adopted a calm, soothing voice to use on the wolf. "Hi there! You don't have to worry about us, my friend Henrik and I were just taking a walk. We don't mean you any harm, and we're sorry we've invaded your territory." I improvised.

Henrik scoffed behind me.

"You seriously think that's gonna work?" He grumbled. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?" I retorted, not taking my eyes off the wolf. Then the weirdest thing happened. The black wolf immediately stops snarling and backs off, eying both of us curiously. Both Henrik and I are stunned.

"I can't believe that worked." Henrik muttered. I sagged a little, with relief.

"Oh ye, of little faith." I randomly quoted the Bible, as we watched the animal sit back on his hunches, still eying us off.

"What's gonna happen now?" Henrik asked.

"I was hoping you knew." I replied. Henrik stepped out from behind and stood beside me. The wolf didn't react, except to follow him with its strangely human eyes. I squatted down to the wolf's height and tentatively reached out a hand for the wolf to sniff.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Henrik asked, sounding dubious.

"Letting him come to me." I responded, raising an eyebrow when I could've sworn that I saw that beast smirking at us as we were trying to figure him out.

"How do you know the wolf is a he?" Henrik had to ask that question. I flushed with embarrassment. This will probably not work, and I'll end up looking like an idiot.

"Instinct? How should I know?" I retorted, feeling a little irritated as I looked back at him. Something wet touched my hand, and I turned and saw that the wolf had somehow crossed the distance between him and Henrik and me, and was now sniffing my hand with his wet nose. I held still, determined not to make any sudden movements and squealed when he licked my hand once.

"I think he likes you." Henrik guessed. I smiled sheepishly before getting to my feet and turned slightly towards Henrik. "You can pat him if you like, I don't think he's gonna hurt you." Henrik was about to reply when his eyes widened again at something behind me. "What now?" I asked. Henrik's face lit up like the sun.

"No, he would never hurt me. Or you for that matter … ever." He confirmed. I was about to ask what he meant by that, when suddenly something took my hand. I immediately turned around and saw that the wolf had mysteriously morphed into a tall, handsome stranger who had taken my hand. But the frustrating thing was, his face was completely blurred so I couldn't identify him. Don't you just hate that in dreams? But it definitely appeared that Henrik knew him, and quite well. The stranger raised my hand to his lips and tenderly kissed my knuckles.

A handsome stranger with manners and respect for women? That was new.

"Hello. Do I know you?" I questioned him.

"Intimately." He responded, sounding incredibly happy to see me. I could feel my heart pounding like a jackhammer. Henrik stepped forward with recognition very plain in his dark brown eyes. My mouth dropped open. How come Henrik can clearly see this man's face and I can't? How exactly is that fair? Whose dream is this anyway?

Henrik greeted him with a warm hug.

"Hello, big brother. I've missed you." Henrik greeted him. My eyes widened in shock. This man was one of Henrik's four brothers? I was extremely confused.

"What are we doing here? What are you doing here?" I demanded. Henrik and his mysterious brother broke apart and the man approached me, wrapping me up in his arms.

"I'm here to give you a message … and to see my baby brother again." He replied. His deep, European accented voice was definitely familiar.

"What's the message?" I asked curiously, noticing that Henrik had disappeared from sight, presumably to give us some privacy. He tightened the hug.

"In a moment. We don't have long in this dream, and I want to preserve this moment with you for as long as I can." He whispered into my ear. I couldn't help but smile and buried my face into his shoulder, inhaling his unique scent and feeling tears welling up in my eyes. I felt safe, secure and extremely loved. And it just sucked that I would soon be waking up from this dream, and know that that was all it was, a dream.

"As much as I am really enjoying this moment we're sharing together, you probably better tell me the message now." I whispered. I felt him nodding against my head.

"We are close to reuniting, my love. You have no idea how long I have waited to see you again." He told me.

"How long?" I replied, smiling. He smirked against my cheek.

"A thousand years. And I'd wait and love you for a thousand more." He told me, tenderly. "Please, wait for me a little while longer. And whatever happens until then, good or bad, don't lose faith in us." He urged, almost brokenly.

"I won't." I promised.

Then I was involved in the most intense, passionate kiss I had ever experienced in my life that literally stole my breath away and had me clutching to him so I didn't do something unfortunate, like topple forwards onto my face. Too bad it was just a dream, and it wasn't really happening. But I was intrigued to find out if the real thing would be as intense and exciting as right now. A silly little smile was on my face, and my mysterious stranger chuckled in amusement and kissed the end of my nose, before pulling back into an ardent embrace.

"I hate to break you guys up, but we have to go Grace." Henrik interrupted, sounding a little awkward. Henrik's mysterious brother reluctantly pulled away, and whispered that same familiar sentence once again in my ear:

"I love you, always and forever." He vowed, as his voice started fading away.

~:Reality:~

The first thought I had when I woke up that morning was: Wow… that was corny. Maybe that Hot Milo I had last night was one too many?

I opened my eyes to direct sunlight and winced, cursing myself for forgetting to close the damn curtains before going to sleep. I looked at my wristwatch, since I had already packed away my alarm clock during my packing away and noticed the time. It was 10:00 in the morning. Not too bad, the new lease owners weren't due to arrive until about 1pm. So I had loads of time to get my things together and get the hell outta dodge. I yawned deeply, and sat up, coming face to face with an innocent looking Henrik.

"Good morning, Grace. Did you sleep well?" He asked, politely. I nodded, eying him suspiciously.

"Were you in my dream last night?" I asked. He nodded, getting to his feet and walking over to the window, deep in thought. "That's never happened before." I commented out loud.

"Nope, it hasn't. It was extremely odd, but I'm pleased to have seen my brother again." Henrik smiled happily. That caught my interest.

"Which one was he?" I asked, trying to be sly. But Henrik shook his head.

"I'm not allowed to tell you. You'll find out when you're supposed to, not before." Henrik explained. I groaned with frustration and threw aside my duvet. "Sorry." Henrik looked guilty.

"Don't be. I was being greedy and asking too much." I stated, smiling at him reassuringly. I glanced over at my open sketchbook and eyed the picture of five people I had unconsciously sketched onto the paper. I was mostly focusing upon the four men in the picture. Which one of them was it?

"I'll wait for you outside." Henrik announced, grabbing my attention away from my picture.

"Okay." I replied, smiling at him warmly. Once I was alone, I studied the picture and realised that I had drawn the brother standing in the middle of the group before. He was tall, with shoulder-length hair and wearing a dark tunic with long white sleeves and leather wrist cuffs, dark trousers and dark traveling boots. I flicked back through my previous drawings and frowned.

Could he be the brother who has been waiting for me, and I've been supposedly waiting for?

It took me almost an hour and a half to figure out my new address, who to talk to when I got there to sign contracts, pack away all my other stuff (which wasn't much: just my couch, TV, bed and bedside table, and some pre-packed boxes etc.), and give instructions to the movers to travel to the new address; which was in Mystic Falls, Virginia. Henrik was extremely quiet, barely even making eye contact or saying one or two sentences, which concerned me. Was it something I said or did? Or did reuniting with his brother in the dream again hurt him in some way? It wasn't until after I returned the keys to the owner and got into the car that I decided to confront him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I ventured cautiously, as I negotiated a tricky lane change on the highway. Henrik seemed to jolt out of his thoughts at my innocent inquiry.

"Pardon?" He blurted out, and sat up straighter in the seat, and turned to give me his full attention. I smiled, and readjusted the air conditioning.

"You've barely said a word all day today. Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked. Henrik frowned, looking troubled again.

"It's just seeing that wolf in your dream last night brought back some painful memories. I guess I'm still not entirely over it." Henrik admitted, and I frowned.

"I thought you had an awesome relationship with your brothers? After all that wolf turned out to be one of them." Henrik looked horrified by the possibility.

"Of course not. My brothers would never harm me." He looked insulted by the mere suggestion that any of his brothers would be that cruel or bloodthirsty. And then I kicked myself for taking so long to get this. If Henrik had been killed a thousand years ago, it would be absolutely impossible that they would be alive now. Clearly, something funky was going on here.

"Yeah, that reminds me. And I can't believe that it's just occurring to me now, but, how is your family still alive? I mean you died a thousand years ago. Unless they are extremely well preserved or immortal…" I trailed off, laughing at the ludicrous idea. When Henrik didn't join in, my amused smile disappeared. "Wait, I'm right?" He nodded, looking completely serious. "That's impossible." Henrik shrugged.

"In theory, yes it would be. But my family are … alive in a way." He admitted. I raised an eyebrow.

"Do you care to share with the rest of the class?" I requested, feeling a little cheated that my oldest friend would be withholding information like this from me. Henrik winced.

"For me to do that, I'd have to continue the story from last night." He stated. I immediately brightened. I had been waiting for the right moment to ask him to continue with the story; but there just hadn't been a right moment to broach the subject. Now seemed as good a time as any.

"Good! By all means, share away." I encouraged. Henrik drew in an unnecessary deep breath, and took several minutes to pick a place to begin. I cursed when I noticed a gridlock straight ahead. Damn roadworks… I thought, irritably. "And take your time, looks like it's gonna be a bit of a crawl before we can get on our way." I stated, sitting back in my chair.

Henrik laughed.

"Where were we?" He inquired. I smirked.

"Your family had gotten to the 'New World' and after 20 years your family and apparently mine expanded, and that my name was Gráinne not Grace." I replied promptly, and stopped myself from laughing at the astonished expression on his face. "Yes, I have a good memory. Don't stall." I scolded, playfully. Henrik pulled a martyred face.

"I'm not already." He whined like the teenage boy he used to be. "The beings from the stories turned out to be a pack of werewolves. We lived harmoniously with them." Henrik began, but seemed to hesitate and we hadn't even begun the rest of the story yet.

"Werewolves? They're real?" I was genuinely shocked.

"Yeah, they're real all right." Henrik sounded a bit bitter, which I frowned at. "So are witches." Clearly, Henrik was about as enthusiastic about werewolves as I was actually believing it. I wasn't normally a sceptic, but I tended to maintain an 'I'll believe it, when I see it' policy when it came to things like this. But having said that, if I could see Henrik; who was quite obviously a ghost, it could potentially be possible.

"You have a problem with werewolves I take it?" I guessed. Henrik ignored my question, choosing to press on with his story. I chose to accept it, rather than demand an explanation about why he had avoided my question. I was likely to get an answer to question if I waited long enough.

"The village had a rule that we were all supposed to obey without question: during the full moon every night, we were required to take shelter in some nearby caves for our own protection." Henrik explained.

"From the werewolves?" I rightly guessed. Henrik nodded, his face becoming grave; and making me nervous and wondering if we should continue the story. It was obvious that the memory was making him agitated.

"To venture from the caves before dawn was forbidden. But I was a foolish and rebellious person back then, and way too curious for my own good, and defied the rule. I paid the price for disobeying the rule." Henrik admitted. I froze.

"What do you mean?" I whispered, sure that Henrik probably couldn't hear it. But I was wrong.

"My memory is a little fuzzy, but I'll try to relay what I can about that night." He promised. I almost chickened out and told him to forget it, but I was morbidly curious. "I remember sneaking out with my favourite brother to see the werewolves morph from beasts back into men. My brother was against the idea, and tried multiple times to get me to come back to the cave with him; but I ignored him and went searching. He had no choice but to follow or risk our father's wrath." He looked down at his lap. "We both thought we were far away from the werewolves we did come across, but one of them lost control…"

I felt sick.

"Oh, my God…" I mumbled, taking my eyes off the road for a split second to glance at him, with what I assumed was a stricken expression on my face. "I'm so sorry." I told him, sincerely. Henrik offered me a weak smile.

"I don't remember much after the attack, except the excruciating pain I was feeling. I think you can already guess that I didn't die immediately." I glanced down at the ripped and bloodied tunic shirt he was wearing and shuddered. "I continued drifting in and out of consciousness, and I remembered being carried by my brother back into the village. They had already come back from the caves by then." He muttered, quietly.

"MOTHER!" I jumped at the agonised scream that seemed to echo from faraway. Henrik didn't appear to notice, he was too deep in his reminiscing to spare a glance at me. I felt strangely freaked.

"The last thing I remembered before dying, was my mother pleading for her friend, another witch, to save me." Henrik concluded his story, and finally noticed my distress. "Are you alright?" He sounded alarmed.

"Did you hear that?" I said.

"Hear what?" He asked, frowning slightly.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" The extremely familiar voice sobbed, causing me to look around desperately for the person.

"The voice! Tell me you heard that voice?" I demanded. Henrik looked extremely concerned.

"I don't hear anything." He insisted. I bit my bottom lip, and looked at him accusingly.

"I was there, wasn't I?" I stated. Henrik looked pained.

"Probably, I dunno. I was a bit preoccupied with dying at that point." He pointed defensively. I relaxed, accepting that excuse. It was unfair of me to start pointing fingers towards the one person who couldn't possibly know the answer to my question.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair." I apologised. Henrik smiled.

"It's okay." It really wasn't. But I hadn't been expecting to hear that voice at the same time that Henrik revealed his final moments. "But that's not the end of the story." He promised, smiling at me with a shit-eating grin. I looked appalled.

"It's not?" I questioned.

"Afraid not. There is one other thing in this world other than werewolves and witches that go bump in the night." Henrik promised. "And you're gonna know about it by the time we get to …" He trailed off, looking curious. "Where are you moving to anyway?" I groped around my bag when I was able to safely, and peered down at my barely legible handwriting for the address.

"A small town in Virginia called Mystic Falls." I replied absently. Henrik's eyes widened in shock before he started chuckling softly. "What?" I asked, confused.

"Looks like you're heading back to the town of your former life, sweetheart." Henrik told me.

My mouth dropped open.

A/N: Please review :D