Stefan stood rigid; the body of the deer he'd been feeding upon splayed out at his feet. His eyes a tumultuous sea of emotions as he faced Rebekah, whose posture betrayed a blend of defiance and vulnerability. The moonlight filtering through the dense canopy of trees bathed the clearing in a ghostly silver, casting their shadows long and distorted on the forest floor. He stepped, back half turning to leave.

"Stefan," Rebekah began, her voice carrying a weight that stopped him in his tracks.

"Hello, Rebekah," he replied, the effort to keep his voice steady barely concealing the turmoil within, turning back to face her. This conversation had to happen at some point, he knew that. He'd just hoped he'd be given a little more time to come to terms with what he'd learnt about his past.

"You've been avoiding me," she accused, stepping closer, her gaze piercing.

"I've been at school," Stefan deflected, trying to keep the conversation from diving into depths he wasn't ready to navigate.

"And when you're not. You've been avoiding me," she pressed, closing the distance between them, her voice laced with an emotion that Stefan couldn't quite place.

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are. Tell me why." Her command brooked no argument, her eyes searching his for the truth.

"It's complicated," Stefan admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the admission pained him.

"Don't you love me anymore?" The vulnerability in Rebekah's voice was palpable, and it struck Stefan with the force of a physical blow.

"Rebekah..." Stefan's voice trailed off as he struggled to find the words. "I know for you, it must feel like it's only been a few days since we last saw each other, but for me, it's been nearly ninety years. I'm not the person you knew back then."

"So, you don't love me?" Rebekah's voice was soft, fragile, a stark contrast to her usual confidence.

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around all the memories your brother unlocked. I don't know what I feel right now." Stefan's gaze drifted away, lost in the past.

"I just want to go back to the way things were," Rebekah whispered, a tear trailing down her cheek, shimmering in the moonlight.

"You can't. And I really can't. I meant it when I said I'm not the person you knew back then. And I can't be that person again," Stefan replied, the finality in his voice cutting through the night air.

"I don't understand," Rebekah said, confusion and pain mingling in her expression.

Stefan sighed a sound heavy with the weight of unspoken sorrows.

"I was a ripper, Rebekah."

"I know. I don't care," she responded quickly, almost desperately.

"Well, I do. I can't control myself. I can't drink human blood without killing the person I'm feeding on and as soon as I do all I will want is more and more blood, and I will never be able to stop. It's why I feed on animals; even blood bags are too much for me." Stefan shook his head, the gesture conveying a resignation born of bitter experience. "I don't want to be that person, because I would be a danger to Maya, and because eventually, I would turn my emotions off and forget what I feel for my friends, my family, for Damon, and Maya, and I don't want that. I don't want to stop loving them, to become someone that Maya should be afraid of, someone who might hurt her. I can't be the man you fell in love with Rebekah, not without losing everyone else that I care about. So maybe we'd both be better off for now if we stick to learning how to be friends."

The silence that followed was filled with a poignant blend of understanding and heartbreak, as two beings, bound by history yet divided by the passage of time, stood facing each other in the moonlit night, grappling with the reality of a love that could not be.

Eventually, Rebekah turned and sped away. Leaving Stefan to grapple with the ghosts of his past, memories and emotions that had been supressed by compulsion for so long, that they now felt foreign to him.

Rebekah lay sprawled across the couch in Elijah's quaint, yet somehow suffocating, abode. Her eyes, sharp as daggers, pierced the unoffending ceiling above her, as if it were to blame for her current turmoil. Each thought, each memory of her conversation with Stefan from the night before, played on an endless loop, a torturous rerun that offered no respite or solace. It had been replayed in her mind a hundred times over, yet no clarity came, only the deepening of her despair.

Outside, the world moved on in oblivious tranquillity, but inside, Rebekah's heart was in turmoil. Nik had vanished in pursuit of werewolves, seeking to expand his hybrid legion—a quest she found as reckless as it was ambitious. Kol was gone off somewhere, probably to see Aradia, which just wasn't fair because that meant he got to see Maya too.

Finn was with one of the vampires who resided in town, not one of the Salvatores, an older vampire, who was helping acclimate to the 21st century, having needed to do the same just a few months ago for whatever reason. Rebekah had tuned out the details; the woes of another immortal held no interest for her. Her world, her very essence, seemed to revolve singularly around Stefan—Stefan, who had woven himself into the very fabric of her being, only to unravel it all with a few words.

Her heart was a graveyard of loves lost and lovers departed. Agnar, her first love, left behind in the dust of their new cursed existence. Alexander, who had betrayed her trust and paid with his life by Nik's merciless hand. Leofric, whose life had been cruelly snatched away in the violent dance of a jousting tournament. Lorencio, fallen in battle; Emil, thrown from a balcony in a fit of Nik's rage; Marcel, consumed by the flames of her father's wrath. And now, Stefan—the one beacon of hope in her tumultuous existence, dimmed by the harsh truth of time and change.

As she lay there, each name was a stab to her heart, a reminder of her eternal curse. Not the vampirism that coursed through her veins, but the curse of losing those she dared to love. Stefan's rejection was a wound that refused to heal, a pain that transcended the physical and burrowed deep into her soul. In this house of her brother, surrounded by the echoes of her family's complex dynamics, Rebekah felt an overwhelming sense of isolation—a lone figure adrift in an endless sea of time, forever yearning for a shore she could never reach.

"Rebekah." Elijah entered the room, examining some papers he held in his hands, "I've purchased the land we'll be building our new house on. Would you like to come and see it?"

"No."

Couldn't Elijah see that she was in mourning, what did she care about some stupid house, when the foundation of her world, her hopes and her dreams for the future had been torn asunder. Rebekah conveniently forgot that she had been the one complaining about their current abode and constantly bugging Elijah to do something about it, so she could live in a place more suitable for her.

Elijah sighed, which just irritated Rebekah more. He was her big brother; he was supposed to be supportive of her needs no matter what.

"What's wrong Rebekah?"

"Nothing. What could possibly be wrong. It's not like my heart's been torn out of my chest, burnt to ashes and stomped all over. And none of you care. All my brothers have abandoned me."

Elijah sighed again.

"This is about Stefan isn't it."

"He doesn't want me."

A third sigh in less than a minute, it must be some sort of record. Elijah dropped the papers he was holding onto the table and sat down in the armchair.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"He's been avoiding me, so I tracked him down last night while he was feeding on some poor defenceless deer…"

Rebekah repeated the conversation she's had with Stefan verbatim. It was easy, every second of it was seared into her brain. Well, she might have added a few extra flourishes to demonstrate the depths of her anguish, but for the most part it was exactly as it happened.

"… He hates me!" She finished with a soft wail, "He never wants to see me again."

"You just said, he told you he wants to learn how to be your friend. That does not sound like he never wants to see you again."

"You don't understand."

"Rebekah. You may not want to hear this, but I think Stefan is being rather responsible about this No. Don't interrupt, just let me finish." She pouted at him, but snapped her mouth closed and let him speak. "The Stefan you knew in the twenties was a ripper, the Stefan now is not, so he is being honest when he tells you he's not the man you fell in love with. And he may now remember loving you back, but those emotions belonged to another version of him, they are intrinsically tied to a period in his life when he was a conscienceless killer. I think it's highly likely that he is worried that if he lets himself remember that, if he lets himself really feel those emotions again, he will fall back into the same mindset."

"I wouldn't let that happen."

"Rebekah, he is worried about harming Maya if he loses control and becomes that person again."

"I wouldn't let that happen either."

"Even if you could prevent him from harming her physically, it is nothing compared to the emotional toll it would take on her, so you need to consider that as well."

"You're taking his side."

"Because he is right. No." Elijah held up a hand to silence her, "let me finish. In this he is right. The two of you need to learn to be friends, first. He needs time to come to grips with the memories Niklaus unlocked, you need time to acclimate to the world. And you both need time to see if you can love each other again as you are now, or if friendship is all that remains."

"It's not fair."

"No, it's not. And I'm sorry your hurting. But this is what's best for you, for Stefan, and in the long run for our whole family. Maya loves Stefan, considers him her uncle, compared to him, we are just strangers to her. If you push this right now Rebekah, you won't just lose Stefan, you'll probably lose Maya as well." Elijah picked up the papers again, and stood up. "Now, would you like to see where our new house will be? Or are you going to stay here and sulk."

Rebekah frowned. She hated it when what he said made sense. Mostly because it was such a frequent occurrence.

"Fine. Where are we going? And how long's it going to be before we can move in, this house doesn't have nearly enough bathrooms."

Elijah let out another sigh and offered her his arm in lieu of a reply.

"I want to go to school. I've never done it before, it will be a new experience for me."

"I believe school has almost finished for the year. Why don't you register to begin in September, that way you'll have time to get used to the new century, before you plunge into the perils of High School."

"You make it sound like waging a war."

"I do believe that certain parallels can be drawn dearest sister."

Rebekah laughed, Elijah might be an always-right, stuffy know-it-all, but he could also always be counted on to cheer her up.

Klaus's grin cut through the tension like a knife through silk, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and anticipation as he addressed Rose-Marie. The vampire, a shadow of hesitation trailing her every move, seemed like she'd rather face a thousand other fates than walk this path. Yet, here she was, reluctantly inching closer to the very man from whom she'd once fled.

"Rose-Marie," Klaus's voice was a melody of feigned surprise and genuine delight, "to think, I was under the impression you'd be halfway to the moon to avoid crossing paths with me again."

Her response was measured, clinging to a shred of hope like a lifeline.

"Elijah gave me his word you wouldn't harm me. He promised."

Klaus's laughter was light, almost carefree, yet it held a depth that echoed the centuries of complexities and unspoken rules among them.

"Ah, Elijah, the keeper of promises. His word is the bond not even Hades could break." His hand waved through the air, brushing aside the gravity of her concern as if it were no more than a cobweb in his grand castle. "Fear not, my dear. You're under my protection. Let's not dwell on past grievances. Water under the bridge, as they say. So, you're joining our little expedition to Florida, then? Elijah's bidding, I presume?"

Her confirmation was a whisper against the storm brewing in Klaus's plans.

"He asked me to accompany you."

"Of course, he did." Klaus's voice was a blend of sarcasm and genuine amusement. "Well, the more the merrier. Just remember, loyalty is your best friend if you fancy keeping your head where it belongs. Get your belongings in the trunk. We've got a tight schedule to keep. You and Mason in the back, Maddox will ride up front with me." His clapped his hands together briskly. "Chop-chop, time's a-wasting. I want to be in Florida by sunset. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave again. Floridians make me want to break out in hives."

"They're not all bad," Mason said in amusement as he chucked his and Rose's bags in the boot of the SUV.

"I'll take your word for it mate, I myself prefer more civilised places."

Damon poured out three glasses of scotch Handing over two of the glasses to Finn and Elijah, he settled back with his own, the weight of the conversation already palpable in the air.

"So," he began, breaking the silence with a tone that suggested the upcoming discussion was far from light, "I've been mulling over what you shared about your father."

"Is Maya handling it okay?" Finn asked, his concern evident, "She's still very young, it can't be easy for her, knowing there are people in the world who would kill her without a thought."

Damon's response was a blink, a silent acknowledgment of the concern laced with a bit of irony,

"Yeah. Remind me to tell you why we moved to Mystic Falls sometime, now, about Daddy Dearest." he paused, a semblance of recognition flickering in his eyes, "something about your description struck a chord with me –"

Before he could finish, they lurched forward in their seats looking panicked.

"You've seen him!"

"Where!"

With a roll of his eyes that was quintessentially Damon, he clarified,

"No, I haven't seen him. Do you think I'd be this calm if I'd seen him?" They both subsided and he continued. "As you already know Elijah, I've been watching over the Bennett line since I became a vampire. Fifteen years ago, Sheila called me, her daughter Abby had been attempting to trap an immensely powerful vampire, one nobody could seem to kill no matter what method they used."

Finn's declaration cut through the tension,

"Father," he said, a mix of realization and dread in his voice. Elijah's nod was all the confirmation Damon needed.

"Yeah, well I didn't know that at the time. I tracked down Abby to protect her and help her if she needed it. She didn't. Abby had already desiccated the vampire when I found her, she'd just decided not to return to Mystic Falls. I've kept in touch over the years, in case she needed me and so I could pass on to Sheila that she was okay. I've emailed her, and she's willing to meet you both and tell you what happened back then, and where you might be able to find dear old dad, if he's still corpsified."

The exchange of glances between Finn and Elijah was fraught with unspoken words, a lifetime of history and emotion. They nodded, unity in their resolve.

"When and where?" Elijah's voice, steady yet laden with anticipation, broke the brief silence.

Damon pulled out his phone and forwarded the details of the time and place Abby had suggested for the meeting.

"Will you be coming with us?"

He shook his head.

"Nope. Abby trusts my judgement that neither of you will do anything to harm her, and I have a feeling the less people that know all the details, the better."

"Thank you, Damon."

"John Gilbert fled town," Caroline declared, as she breezed inside the den. "Seems Katherine gave him a parting gift by snapping his neck and sending him tumbling down the stairs. He figured it was high time to beat a hasty retreat."

"A pity she didn't rip that ring off his finger before she did it." Damon muttered.

At the same time, Maya began to laugh, sheer delight in her eyes. Whether for what Katherine had done, or because he had left town in the aftermath, Caroline didn't know. Probably both though, she didn't miss a beat as she ruffled Maya's hair in passing—a gesture of sisterly affection—before settling into the embrace of the couch. Her gaze landed on the blonde enigma in the armchair.

"Hi, you must be Rebekah. I'm Caroline."

"Charmed," came the cool, crisp reply, tinted with a British reserve that did little to mask Rebekah's guarded nature. Caroline, however, wasn't deterred; empathy tinted her smile, recognizing the façade for what it was—an armour against unfamiliarity.

Maya's voice bridged the distance between them,

"Caroline's my big sister, like Tyler's my big brother."

Rebekah's demeanour thawed visibly, her reply warmer, hinting at the layers beneath her initial frostiness.

"I see, it's a pleasure to meet you, Caroline. I've heard a lot about you."

"Ditto." Caroline's response was genuine, tinged with regret for their delayed introduction. "Sorry, we just meeting now. I've been super busy with one of the committee's I'm on the last couple of days, or I would have come over to meet you on Monday with Tyler."

It was Maya's bubbling enthusiasm that shifted the conversation.

"Guess what?" she beamed, a secret dancing in her eyes.

"What?"

"Aunty Bex knows how to fence, and she said she'd practice with me at the weekend."

Caroline's smile was infectious, her glance at Rebekah filled with admiration and a hint of comical self-deprecation.

"I'm utterly hopeless at it myself. Tried my hand at a lightsaber duel once and spectacularly failed."

Rebekah's puzzled expression mirrored her unfamiliarity.

"What is a lightsaber?"

Maya leaped from her seat, excitement propelling her.

"I'll show you!" she called, racing towards the stairs with the promise of returning with the prized implements.

Damon's voice, laced with a hint of resignation and fond exasperation, drifted from his corner.

"Why upstairs?" he groaned. "They're meant to be outside."

Rebekah, now visibly intrigued, turned to Caroline with a questioning gaze, only to be met with a cheerful explanation.

"They're from this epic Sci-Fi saga that Maya adores—Star Wars. She will inevitably make you watch it at some point. Just be sure to let her know how great you think it is, or she'll never let you hear the end of it."

"I haven't seen any movies yet, but I've been told they're very different to what I remember when I was last awake."

Caroline's gaze was full of honest empathy.

"It must be really difficult. To wake up in a new century and discover so much has changed, I can't even imagine."

"It's been an adjustment." Rebekah admitted.

"Well, if you want any help, or someone to go shopping with, because I'm sure your brothers, being male, aren't much help in that department. Just ask."

Rebekah's smile transformed from polite warmth to genuine enthusiasm at Caroline's offer.

"I'd like that. Perhaps we can have a girl's day out." She suggested as Maya raced back into the room holding two of the lightsabers from her expansive collection.

"Definitely." Caroline agreed.

She leaned back, a content observer, as Maya took centre stage, her energy infectious and her excitement palpable.

With the grace of a seasoned storyteller, Maya wove a vibrant tapestry of tales about lightsabers—their colours, their sounds, and the lore that surrounded these iconic weapons of the Star Wars universe. Her hands moved with precision, mimicking the hum and clash of imaginary battles fought by Jedi and Sith alike, her eyes alight with the magic of her narrative.

Interspersed with her animated exposition were light-hearted grievances about Damon's strict prohibition on her attempts to engineer a real lightsaber.

"He just doesn't understand how cool it would be to have a real one," she huffed, making Caroline giggle, and Damon let out a pained groan.

"No making real lightsabers." He repeated, "And no more attempts to create a fully functioning doombot." He added, after a moment's consideration.

Rebekah was a mix of startled, confused, and intrigued by the information. Caroline just wanted to know when and why Maya had attempted to build a doombot, it wasn't a warning she was familiar with from Damon's usual repertoire, so it must have been quite a recent occurrence.

"Babbo," Maya said with a sigh and tone that just screamed; you should already know this, "We weren't actually going to build one. We just wanted to figure out if it was technically possible."

Caroline was fairly certain that was a lie, she was absolutely certain that if Maya thought she could get away with building a doombot she would have quite happily done so. Judging by Rebekah's amusement and Damon's despairing groan, they both knew it to.

"Well," Rebekah said, "these look like formidable weapons, how about we have a go with them now."

"No lightsaber duels inside the house." Damon repeated and often heard refrain, then slightly softer, but not so quiet that Caroline and Rebekah couldn't hear him. "We're running out of vases for you to break."

"Outside then?" Rebekah suggested, "I believe we still have time before dinner."

Damon nodded, and Rebekah stood up, looking pleased by the adorably delighted smile that currently adorned Maya's face.

"Would you like to come and watch Caroline?" Rebekah offered.

Caroline waved her off, it was clear that Rebekah wanted to bond with Maya, and she would give her space to do so.

"That's okay, you guys go ahead."

Rebekah shot her a grateful smile at her silent understanding and motioned to Maya.

"Lead the way, sweetheart."

Bouncing with enthusiasm, Maya did so.