Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Elena Gilbert’s first word was love.

Unfortunately, as it was spoken in Third Period Middle Bulgarian, her modern English speaking parents thought it was simply baby babble and clapped encouragingly but ignorantly for her attempt. Miranda Gilbert carefully enunciated the word Mama, Grayson tried to insist on Papa, and Elena kept repeating любов and giggling.

She did, eventually, say Mama and then Papa and other English words, but she favored Bulgarian for expressions of affection and frustration. When she wanted Caroline Forbes to share her legos, the demand came out in ancient Norse. At six, the family cat died and Elena sobbed out broken words in a form of Greek so old there were no records left.

Other languages slipped out, from lives lived by women who shared her face and found more peace than she was destined to receive, but those three were her constant. By twelve she’d learned to hide her fluency in languages she could not explain knowing, and how to avoid trouble by swearing exclusively in everything but English.

She’d also learned to hide the magic that sparked beneath her skin. The way that sometimes her exclamations in Bulgarian weren’t just words but spells, the way she had to be careful when she cursed in Greek that the words stayed empty, no vicious intent to stick and linger in the world.

No one seemed to notice the way small bruises and scrapes and other signs of childhood mischief healed with miraculous quickness for her, her brother, and her friends. Or the way her favorite stuffed moose never stopped being as silky soft as the day it was purchased. The plants in their yard bloomed and thrived, though neither Miranda nor Grayson had a green thumb, and butterflies had an odd fascination for the young girl, landing on her outstretched palms without a quiver of hesitation.

Sheila Bennett’s sharp eyes had seen the truth, but the child didn’t have enough power to be dangerous to anyone but herself and seemed to understand the risk of over-extending herself. She kept an eye on her, as she did on all of Bonnie’s friends, but otherwise left it alone. She was not her ancestor, exerting herself and her magic for the favor of a Gilbert. Bonnie and the balance, those were her charges and to them she would be true.

From age five on, Elena drew face after face, all of them hers. Her parents dutifully hung them all up on the fridge with her little brother’s scribbles, amused by their child’s apparent fascination with her own looks and glad that her actions didn’t reflect such narcissism. They didn’t know, couldn’t know, that none of those faces were Elena. That they had other names in other tongues, Katerina, Anne, Miriam, Tatia, Rhea, Helen, Amara. That she studied them all, looking for differences, remembering their stories, holding close these women who the world would lump into one being—a convenient shape for powerful blood.

An old soul, adults called her, struck by the kindness and wisdom that shone in those large, dark eyes. They didn’t get to see the rage she screamed into her pillow at night, the grief that spilled out in endless sobs in the shower, the hope and resentment that filled the pages of her diaries.

Katerina, Anne, Miriam, Tatia, Rhea, Helen, Amara. Her mantra, her fear, her future. At fifteen her and Caroline and Bonnie drove three towns over, where no one knew their famous founder names, and she got them tattooed in a circle around her left ankle, easy to hide under socks and sneakers or the silver anklet Aunt Jenna got her when she turned thirteen. It was a memorial to those who came before—their lives, their choices, their personhood hers to keep and guard.

She also got a bird behind her ear, small and free, to show the other girls as she admired the flower on Caroline’s collar bone and the constellation on Bonnie’s wrist. Every time she tucked her hair behind her ear, her thumb brushed over the bird, a reminder, a reassurance. Her life was her choice, even if her face was not.

When not having someone else’s art inked into her skin, she still drew her face, not her face, in endless sketchbooks. She drew other faces too, ones from her dreams, their memories. She never wrote names on them, and some she burned, gleaming eyes and sharp teeth that would drain her dry if they could. Others she lingered over, fond feelings for strangers curling in her chest—it was strange, to know someone you had never met, to remember the shape of their mouth as it thinned in anger or stretched in joy. Someday she might meet them, these not-strangers, and she needed to be prepared, to know which emotions were her own and which were theirs, the women who had come before. She was not them, would not be them, and she could not allow her heart to make the same mistakes.

Her and Jeremy spent hours together, quietly drawing on the front porch or in the backyard or on the dining room table while their parents shared pleased if baffled glances at this hobby their children shared. Jeremy preferred more diverse and esoteric subjects for his art, but they shared a love of fine pencils and thick paper and even if Jeremy thought his big sister’s thing for drawing herself was weird, he appreciated her talent and her appreciation of his. Their parents were just happy their children had a balance for the inevitable moments of sibling friction.

Those fractious moments aside, and accounting for non-sibling related moments of human failure, it was undeniable that Elena was a good girl. A good daughter, a good student, a good friend, a dutiful founding family heir. Elena was also restless, the strength of her image—metaphorical and entirely literal, stifling her until she couldn’t breathe for the weight of them. Elena wasn’t just Elena, the girl Mystic Falls’ parents liked to hold up as an example of model behavior, she was the latest in a line of powerful, pursued women whose blood had cost more lives than she could count.

On the days when the legacy running her veins burned the most she’d coax Bonnie and Caroline into ditching school and they’d drive until they felt like stopping, or wander through the woods outside town, drinking stolen whiskey and playing never have I ever or dare. Never truth, too boring according to Caroline and too confusing for Elena, whose truths weren’t all her own.

Bonnie was the secret queen of dare, offering up the most creative and risky endeavors and always following through on her own. Caroline could talk anyone out of anything and was more useful than a fake ID for getting them into clubs and college parties. Elena was fearless, or rather, her fears were so far beyond social consequences and detention that to the others she seemed invincible. They shared secrets, squabbled over crushes and fashion choices, kissed a few times while working through whether they liked girls or boys or both or neither, and always had each others backs. They were unstoppable, as fierce in their love for each other as they were in their desire for adolescent adventure.

They were unstoppable until they weren’t. Unstoppable until a night when restless rage burned through Elena, when fate felt like it was wrapping its hands around her throat, all the women who had born her face crowding in until she wanted to scream. She partied and she fought and on the drive home not her fate, not her memories, not her magic, nothing could save them from the fall, from the water, from the way everything went black.

She woke up in the hospital, pale and bruised and parentless. Jeremy was asleep in the chair next to the bed, bruises under his eyes to match the ones on her body, and grief weighing down his newly tall frame. Aunt Jenna was pacing in the hallway outside, speaking in rapid fire on her cell phone, snatches of legalese drifting through the crack in the door.

The look on her brother’s face when he saw her owlish blinking told her all she needed to know and by the time Jenna made it back into the room they were collapsed into each other on the hospital bed, shaking with quiet, broken sobs.

Jenna wrapped her arms around them, trying to hold in her own tears and her terror, to be the supportive guardian they needed. The future stretched before all of them, strange and empty, and the present ached with guilt and loss.

In the darkened room next door, someone lurked, listening to their tears and thumping hearts. Elena had been seen. Elena had been recognized and everything would be different now.

Chapter Text

Elena stared at herself in the mirror, the shadows under her eyes long since covered by makeup and the exhaustion in her bones hidden by the curve of her smile. She knew better than most what time healed and what it didn’t. Her grief was far from spent, but life didn’t stop, not for anyone.

Turning away from the mirror, she tucked the journal in her bag and headed down the stairs for the requisite stilted morning banter with Jenna and Jeremy. Jenna was frantic and Jeremy was sullen and she refused to let her heavy heart weigh them down. She acted as explicitly normal as possible—fake it till you make it—and filled a travel mug of coffee for herself and Jeremy without comment, earning a reluctant smile.

“Ride?” she asked him after Jenna had left, and didn’t argue when he shook his head, ignoring the itch in her hands that wanted to drag him close and hold on until he broke down and cried like he hadn’t since they left the hospital. Instead she flicked his ear, hid a grin at his scowl, and went to wait on the porch for Bonnie.

Her friend’s smile was still careful around the edges, hidden worry in her eyes that Elena forced herself not to grimace at. Bonnie loved her, of course she was worried. Elena loved her back and she wouldn’t begrudge that concern. She returned Bonnie’s hug and held herself to the present by sheer force of will as Bonnie told her all about her Grams and their ancestors and her apparent psychic powers.

Elena knew what Bonnie was, knew the magic and potential, far greater than her own, that lurked inside her friend. She was prepared for this conversation, ready to be supportive and excited by turns. She was not prepared for the crow that slammed into the windshield, the spike of fear and unease that lingered.

She was not prepared for the handsome, chiseled face of Stefan Salvatore staring at her from across the hallway.

Her throat closed and her heartbeat tripled in pace and she knew he heard it, knew his senses, so much more than advanced than hers, could detect the effects of shock and panic and secret thrill of delight on her system. Her lips were numb as she agreed with Bonnie’s assessment of his hotness and listened to her friend’s theories on who he was.

What was he doing here? Who did he think she was?

Katerina had never spilled her secrets to him, had told him only what would make him love her, true or not. He knew nothing of doppelgangers and curses, of endless flight from brutal monsters until you became one yourself. Or he hadn’t, but then, her memories of him were incomplete, second-hand, filtered through Katerina, and over a century old.

The fear and confusion and sense of strained reality lingered throughout the day, enforced by the weight of his focused attention and broken only by her worries about Jeremy, Bonnie’s predictions, and Caroline’s forced cheerfulness. She didn’t follow through with her weekly visit to her parents’ graves after school and instead dug out the journals and sketches hidden beneath the floorboards under her bed, pouring over fragments of dreams and flashes of memories not hers as she scrambled for a sense of control in a world gone spinning off course.

She hadn’t thought she’d be lucky enough to go unnoticed forever. To have a life free of the supernatural other than her own magic and Bonnie’s inevitable awakening to the powerful witch she was meant to be. Not when she’d been unlucky enough to be born in the same town Katerina had fled to, the land where Tatia had once lived. But she wasn’t ready, and she hadn’t expected this. One of the brothers Katerina had seduced and fallen for and left behind. And if one was here, where was the other? Did he still live as well?

They seemed decent enough, in the bits and pieces of memories she had to go on, one more kind and one more sharp but both very human and very in love with Katerina. What would that betrayal, the loss of their humanity, and a century and a half of immortality have done to their natures? She couldn’t trust that her memories or her face would keep her safe, much less her loved ones.

Elena wasn’t just a doppelganger. She was a Gilbert and she knew what her ancestors had done to protect themselves from vampires, knew the secrets that lived in her purely human family tree, had suspicions about her Uncle’s oddly nomadic life.

Elena had been ingesting vervain since she was old enough to be trusted alone in the backyard, enabling her to cultivate a hidden little garden. She regularly dosed her brother and her friends and had become the unofficial punch spiker for school dances specifically so she could slip some in with the booze. Cheerleading and daily runs in the woods kept her fit and stronger than she looked. She knew Mystic Falls, knew the land it had been long before the town itself, could see the bones of what it had been during the Civil War beneath the modern structures. Her magic was limited in power, the curse of her bloodline, but she had centuries of knowledge to draw on in how best to use it. And she knew vampires, knew them as well as any human ever could.

She didn’t want to hurt anyone. Never wanted to kill anyone, even if it wasn’t their first death. But she and Katerina shared more than just a face, and if it meant protecting her family or her friends, she would do what she had to do.

Including going to a party by the falls when it was the last thing on her mind. She used to be good at parties. Used to be the party, her and Caroline and Bonnie. School wasn’t like Mean Girls, even in a status-obsessed small town like theirs. Outside of Founder events, no one cared about your last name. But they were cheerleaders and for a certain limited definition that mostly existed in Caroline’s head in a teen movie montage sort of way, they could have been said to rule the school.

And then her parents died and the legacy in her blood smacked her in the face with an only kind of dead boy and now she was drinking shitty beer laced with vervain and faking an engaged conversation and a smile so wide her cheeks hurt directed at whoever was next to her whenever Stefan looked her way. He had clearly not gotten the memo about her strong desire to avoid any significant interaction with him and his gaze prickled against her skin.

Later she would curse herself for her inattention, for her selfishness. If she’d been less concerned with avoiding an awkward and potentially dangerous conversation with Katerina’s ex, if she’d been more concerned with the danger to everyone else, oblivious innocents with no idea of the danger lurking in their midst, maybe Vicky wouldn’t have been bitten.

When she heard the scream, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jeremy’s voice shouting, her heart stopped in her chest, terrified that she was going to lose him. But he was fine, holding up a rapidly-sobering Vicky. Matt’s sister was bleeding from a wound in her throat, eyes glassy and hands fluttering wildly as she mumbled, barely audible over the commotion of the party. “What the hell?! What the hell.”

“What happened?” Matt demanded before Elena could, eyes darting between his sister and Jeremy as he pulled Vicky away from the other boy.

“I don’t know, man, I just found her like this. I know Tyler was giving her grief earlier, but I don’t think he’d do this.”

Elena stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Jeremy’s as Matt turned to his sister just as she checked back into reality. “Mattie? This guy, he, he bit me, Mattie! I think he was on drugs or something? He bit me and then he got really angry and said something about me being dosed and then he ran off.”

Jeremy flinched against Elena and she grimly hoped that this horrible night would get him to stop stealing her pain medication. “You should get her to the hospital, Matt. Human mouths have a lot of disgusting germs in them,” she told him, completely serious and also hoping that Vicky’s accusation of drugs and her own words were enough to keep anyone from digging deeper.

Matt nodded, still scowling at Jeremy, and Tyler who had joined the circle of drunken students watching the drama unfold, and started pulling Vicky toward the parking lot. Elena caught Stefan watching her again and narrowed her eyes. “Go home, Jeremy, I’ll meet you there. Caroline’s mom will probably want to talk to you, see if you saw anything that might help them ID the guy, and you need to sober up first.”

He shrugged her off, but didn’t argue, and she took it as a win as she stalked toward Katerina’s ex, giving in to the inevitable.

“I know you didn’t do this,” she told him, before he could speak, and ignored the way his eyes widened, leaning closer to ensure only he could hear the deadly intent of her next words. “But if you brought someone with you who did, Damon or anyone else, you need to get them out of my town. Mystic Falls is not welcoming to any vampires who feed without consent.”

She didn’t wait for his answer, if he had one, just turned and left, hoping to find Bonnie or Caroline to catch a ride from.

The next morning the news showed a very generic sketch, the reporter asking people to be on the lookout for a non-local man on drugs who attacked people in the woods. Elena grimaced and didn’t protest when Jenna turned it off, muttering something about an asshole ex who had a lot of nerve to warn people about other men instead of himself.

School was a mess. Jeremy didn’t seem to be high, for once, but he was avoiding her and so was Caroline, for reasons Elena didn’t understand. Stefan kept trying to get her alone, clearly wanting to know what she knew. She finally escaped with the end of day bell and took a moment to center herself in the bathroom, reaching out with her faint thread of magic.

It led her to the Grill, Caroline crying at a table as Bonnie awkwardly tried to comfort her. “How come he didn’t go for me? Why do the guys I want never want me?”

“Oh Caroline, boys are dumb,” Elena said, dropping next to Caroline in the booth. “So very dumb.”

Caroline whirled on her. “It’s easy for you to say that! You always say the right thing, I always say the wrong thing. I work so hard and got to know him and flirted and he still picked you.”

“Stefan?” Elena asked, shocked and mad at herself for missing this. She’d missed too much lately and it needed to stop now. “Caroline, I’m not interested in him. He just won’t leave me alone and I don’t know why.” She did know why, knew how much he’d loved the last woman to bear her face, but she could hardly explain that. And the rest of her statement stood.

Caroline, brilliant friend that she was, pivoted on a dime from heartbroken envy to protective rage. “Who does he think he is? God’s gift to high school? If he doesn’t leave you alone, we will ruin him,” she said furiously, already pulling out her phone to start the various text chains that would accomplish just that.

Elena laughed, pulling her in for a hug before she could hit send and roping Bonnie in too. “I love you. Can we save ruining for another day and have a sleepover tonight? I’m thinking rum floats and movies about talking pets.”

Bonnie snorted and Caroline giggled a little wetly into Elena’s shoulder before nodding, priorities realigning again. “Definitely. I just got some new gold face masks. We’ll be the fanciest drunk girls in Mystic Falls.”

Across the room, unnoticed by them all, Damon Salvatore reevaluated the usefulness of the blonde as a target and moved on to other strategies. Instead of the first of many nights of horrific trauma that would have lingered in the back of her mind for the rest of her life, Caroline went home with her two best friends and invented a drinking game based on how many animal-related puns were used in a given scene.

Elena fell asleep in a tangled pile with both her best friends, happiness sinking into her bones, warding off the grief and the fear that had been swallowing her. This was how it should be. This was how it would be, and no vampire was going to ruin it.

Chapter Text

Kelly Donovan was dead. She’d wandered back into town to check on her abandoned children and someone had broken into Vicky’s hospital room and killed her mother while she was passed out next to her daughter in the bed. The police seemed to think it was a mistake, someone trying to kill Vicky, cover up whatever she saw.

Elena was pretty sure they were right.

Somewhere, in the back of Elena’s mind, Katerina was laughing at her. Vampires could do whatever the fuck they wanted and always would, until someone strong and lucky enough came along and killed them. No one knew that better than the Petrova doppelgangers, from both sides of the equation.

If she was going to keep her loved ones alive, she needed help.

“I think, I think I dreamed it,” Bonnie told her in a harsh whisper while Caroline was in the shower. “The hospital and these eyes, real blue, and a crow. But that doesn’t make any sense, right?”

Elena wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “We should talk to your Grams.”

“What? Why?” Bonnie asked her, forehead wrinkled in a deep frown at Elena’s apparent nonsequitur.

“She’s the one who told you about your family, your abilities, right? Maybe she can help you focus them, understand what you’re seeing.” Elena bit her lip, guilt at her manipulation roiling in her stomach. She reached out and took Bonnie’s hands. “Something’s happening Bonnie, something scary. And I don’t want anyone else to die.”

Bonnie stared at her, shocked and more than a little scared herself, and then nodded. “Okay, let’s go talk to Grams.”

“Field trip?” Caroline asked, coming out of the bathroom in a robe, toweling her hair. “I was promised Elena’s famous pancakes and I definitely need fortification if we’re going to learn that Bonnie has superpowers and I don’t.”

“Pancakes it is,” Elena agreed. This conversation wasn’t likely to be fun for anyone and breakfast food could make most things more bearable.

Elena turned on her favorite playlist, an eclectic range of music that reminded her of lives long gone and lives she hoped to live, and let the music and her friends’ chatter wash over her as she cooked. She had a variety of recipes that had earned her famous pancakes reputation, but her favorite had cinnamon and pecans in the mix and a special syrup made with apples and cinnamon flavored whiskey.

Not enough alcohol to have an effect on them, at least not the way she made it that morning, but a little bite to their breakfast would give her the fortitude to get through an honest conversation with Sheila Bennett.

That, or the three cups of very strong coffee she made from Elizabeth Forbes’ excellent french press.

She grimaced down at the bowl she was making syrup in. She needed to tell them the truth. Not everything, but, they deserved to know about her own magic. She was pretty sure Sheila already knew, had caught the older woman watching her sharply, and it wouldn’t be practical to keep it secret when they learned the truth about Bonnie. But they were going to be upset and angry that she hadn’t told them before and she couldn’t blame them. And Caroline, Caroline didn’t understand how amazing she was, how much she shined without any help whatsoever, and being the only one of them to not have magic was only going to make her feel less special.

Sometimes Elena thought she should have left town as soon as she was old enough to travel unnoticed, taken her destiny and all the danger that went with it away from her loved ones. Most of the time she believed that to be a cowardly choice, that it wouldn’t protect them, just leave them more ignorant and unprepared for any supernatural incursion into their lives. She was hardly the only reason a vampire might come to Mystic Falls, given its history.

It had been a largely theoretical argument with herself until now. Until vampires were back, until ex’s mother’s were murdered in the night, until the ghost of a past both hers and not hers was staring at her in history class with hope and heartbreak in his eyes.

She could leave, now. Break so many other hearts. Tear her fragile family further into pieces. She could stay and hide the truth from them, try her best to protect them while preserving what normality remained in their lives. She could tell them and risk them getting involved, risk them wanting her to leave, if they knew what she really was. Less a person than an ingredient. Mystical nutmeg.

Adding another splash of whiskey to the mix, she sighed, mind ringing with the voices of dead women insisting on their personhood and hers.

Elena was only responsible for her own choices. She couldn’t control anyone else’s, for good or ill. And she was glad of that. She had no idea what she’d do if she had Katerina’s compulsion. Would she make Jeremy stop taking pills? Make Matt give up on her? Make fucking Mr. Tanner stop being an abusive asshole to his students? All of those sounded reasonable, good even, healthier and safer for everyone involved. And absolutely monstrous. Arrogant, selfish, and a stepping stone toward manipulating everyone in her life to suit her tastes.

Tempting. Easy to rationalize. Yes, she was very glad that she didn’t have Katerina’s power.

The spoon clinking against the glass of the bowl snapped her back to the present and she made herself smile as she heard Caroline’s voice echoing down the hall, debating appropriately witchy sartorial choices with Bonnie.

“No feathers!” she called out, smile shifting into a more genuine grin. “And pancakes are ready!”

She reached into the oven and pulled out the pan of still warm pancakes, sliding the last one on top of the stack before setting it on a trivet on the table. She added a ladle to the bowl of syrup, and filled a glass with orange juice for herself. Any more coffee and she’d end up showing her magic instead of telling them about it.

They made short work of breakfast, all of the pancakes disappearing into their stressed out, growing teenage bodies. Bonnie drove them to her Grams’ house as Elena rehearsed various speeches in her head, explanations that wouldn’t hurt them, truths that were safe to tell. She hadn’t even settled on an opening line when they arrived.

She followed Bonnie into the house, Caroline on her heels and her stomach tied in knots. This wasn’t about her. This was about Bonnie and her discovery of her heritage and Elena needed to chill the fuck out about her own issues.

Sheila welcomed them with a warm, if concerned, smile, and Bonnie waved away offers of breakfast as she tugged her Grams toward the sitting room and down onto the couch next to her. “Grams I need, I need you to tell me what you meant about our ancestors and my powers. Because I think I dreamed what happened to Matt and Vicky’s mom and I’m kind of freaking out about it.” Bonnie took a breath, shooting Elena a flickering glance. “And I think some kind of monster did it.”

Sheila Bennett looked as serious as Elena had ever seen her. The mischievous twinkle in her eyes that so resembled Bonnie when they were drunk and making dares was gone and her lips were pressed tightly together in a forbidding line. Elena could feel the magic in her, strong and wary, enough to make hers shift restlessly beneath her skin.

“Bonnie, I don’t think your friends should be here for this,” Sheila said firmly, looking at Elena and Caroline sitting opposite them, her gaze lingering on Elena with some sort of silent warning.

“They’re my best friends, Grams. Whatever you tell me I’m going to tell them anyways, so they might as well hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

Elena bit back a laugh and Caroline snorted. Sheila arched an eyebrow at her granddaughter. “Are you calling me a horse, dear?”

Bonnie grinned at her. “Start talking and I’ll go back to Grams.”

Sheila huffed, but quirked her lips into a reluctant smile. “Very well. You are a witch, Bonnie. A real one, with magic powers. I am a witch. Our family have always been witches.”

Bonnie looked torn between shock and disbelief, Caroline even more so. Sheila snapped her fingers and a flame lit in the air above them, bright and hypnotizing before abruptly flaring out.

“Holy shit,” Caroline whispered as Bonnie gaped.

“Were, were our ancestors burned in the witch trials?” Bonnie asked, voice trembling a little as she stared at the empty air where the flame had been. Sheila shook her head, taking Bonnie’s hands in hers.

“No, the girls that were persecuted in Salem were entirely innocent. You need more than ignorance to trap a real witch. Our family fled Salem in 1692 and resettled here, in Mystic Falls. We’ve lived in secrecy ever since.” She turned a gimlet eye on Elena and Caroline. “It’s important that we still do.”

Caroline gulped, Elena nodded with absolute sincerity, and Bonnie scoffed. “Come on, Grams, everybody talks about you being a witch.”

“And yet you didn’t believe it, did you?” Sheila asked her, sharply amused. “It’s absurd, can’t be true. I’m just a kooky lady that teaches occult at the university. No one really believes.”

Bonnie nodded slowly and Sheila sighed. “No one who isn’t already a part of the supernatural. Like vampires. A vampire killed Kelly Donovan, I’m sure of it.”

“What?!” “Vampires are real?” Bonnie and Caroline exploded at once and Elena winced. A wince that deepened when Sheila turned her sharp gaze toward her.

“Yes, they’re real. And they can be fought. But Elena can tell you more about that, can’t you Elena?”

Two pairs of shocked eyes turned toward her, confusion and the beginning of betrayal in their depths, and Elena took a deep, fortifying breath. “Your family isn’t the only one with secrets, Bonnie. The Gilberts have been vampire hunters for centuries.”

Her best friends looked flabbergasted, more shocked than they had been by the sight of Sheila Bennet conjuring fire out of thin air. Caroline broke first, laughing a little. “You’re kidding, right? This is some kind of practical joke?”

“No. It’s not a joke. And it’s not my only secret.” She looked at Bonnie. “I’m no you, not nearly as powerful as a Bennett witch, but, I have a little magic of my own. I think it came from my mom’s side, because the Gilberts never had magic.”

Sheila frowned and Elena wondered if she knew more about Miranda’s family. She assumed her mother was Katerina’s descendant, because nothing in the Gilbert journals had ever mentioned magic. But it could have been someone who married into the Gilbert line farther back in the family tree. Even with all her memories, all the questions her sisters had asked over the millenia, she didn’t really understand what triggered another doppleganger to appear. And she’d never had anyone to ask, until now.

“What kind of magic?” Bonnie asked, just as Caroline burst out with “Show us something cool!” and Elena laughed. Her questions could wait. Reassuring her friends and helping Bonnie learn more about her family was what mattered today.

“Okay, something cool coming up.”

Chapter Text

The next day the three of them spent at Matt’s house, along with a subdued Tyler Lockwood. Matt was refusing to leave Vicky’s side at the hospital, and Caroline’s mom had police on guard 24/7. Not that they could stop a vampire who wanted in, but Elena hoped it would deter him, whoever he was, from trying.

In the meantime they could help Matt by packing up his mom’s things and figuring out what needed to be dealt with for her funeral, and for all the financial and other adult responsibilities that were suddenly his.

Elena felt shitty for thinking it, but she really doubted Vicky would be any help, despite being the oldest sibling. She’d been a mess before all of this, and the trauma of the attack and her mom’s death were probably only going to make her drug and emotional issues worse. She would need therapy and a lot of support and Matt was great, but he was also a teenager, and one who had just lost his mom, however crappy of a mom she’d been.

“Hey, Elena, come here and look at this,” Tyler called out from the kitchen, interrupting her downward mental spiral. Elena finished folding the shirt she was holding and set it in one of the donation boxes before leaving Bonnie and Caroline to it.

“What’d you find?” she asked, stepping into the kitchen and making a mental note to do the dishes and make sure the fridge was stocked before they left.

“There was one of those crappy hide-a-safes in one of the bottom cabinets. The key was right next to it,” he said with an eye roll. “But it had some stuff in it, from when we were all kids. Matt and Vicky’s birth certificates, stuff like that. And this,” he handed her a stapled sheaf of papers and Elena read the bold lettering across the top.

“Kelly had a life insurance policy?” she asked, honestly shocked at the idea of Matt’s mom doing something so responsible.

Tyler shrugged. “I know. But, she wasn’t always so bad, when we were little. Anyways, it looks like it’s still valid. I could have my dad get his lawyer to look at it? Probably be a lot of help with the hospital bills and everything.”

Elena smiled warmly at him, startling an answering smile out of him. “Sounds great, Tyler. I’m glad Matt has you as a friend.”

He ducked his head, grimacing a little, and Elena’s smile faded. He was her friend, too, even if they both forgot it sometimes.

It had been a long time since they were close though, the two rich founder’s kids stuck with each other at boring adult events. They’d split along gendered friendship lines as they got older, and Tyler, without the benefit of ancestral memories to balance him out, had become little more than a privileged asshole who bullied her brother. But there was more to him than that, and she hoped him stepping up to help Matt was a sign he was growing up.

“Bonnie and Caroline have got his mom’s stuff covered, why don’t we go through the rest of the safe and then start figuring out their bill situation?”

He scratched at the back of his neck, a clear sign of discomfort, but nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good. Or, not good. But, whatever.”

Elena laughed, only the faintest edge of bitterness to the sound. “Yeah, not good but whatever is the perfect way to describe all the post-parent death bullshit.”

He grimaced again, then met her eyes with a surprisingly soft, if awkward, expression. “Uh, sorry, that I’ve been kind of a dick. I don’t think we’ve talked at all since your parents…” He trailed off and she huffed out a sharp laugh.

“Died. They died. You can say it. It’s not like I’ve forgotten.” He winced and she shook her head. “Yeah. You’ve been a dick. And way worse to Jeremy than me. Stop that, and we’re good. I know you think you need to balance Matt’s niceness by being twice the teenage asshole, but I promise, none of us will hold it against you if you keep it to a minimum.”

Tyler snorted, giving her a real smile. “Deal. But only if we can drink while we do this. Kelly’s favorite crappy beer is in the fridge and pouring it out before Matt and Vicky get home seems like a waste.”

“God yes,” Elena said, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table and pulling over a stack of envelopes, too many with angry red words stamped on them. “Beer me, Lockwood.”

“If there’s going to be irresponsible underage drinking, we want in!” Bonnie called from the bedroom and Elena grinned at Tyler as he looked up from the fridge.

“You heard the lady. Let’s get this depressing party started.”

~

Hours later, and the bulk of Kelly’s belongings that were neither personal mementos, nor of use to Matt and Vicky, had been packed up for donation or thrown away. The bills had been sorted by urgency, with an overview of how much was owed, to who, and how to pay it ready for Matt to look over when he was ready.

Bonnie and Caroline were quite tipsy and were cooing over an album of baby pictures they’d found while Tyler pretended he wasn’t interested.

Elena was feeling more than a little tipsy herself, humming a song she couldn’t remember the name of as she washed dishes. It was a strangely calm moment, happy almost, and then the phone rang and she screamed a little. Just a little.

“Chill, Gilbert. Just the phone,” Tyler said, grinning at her. “You never used to be a jumpy drunk.”

She flicked some suds at him. “Answer it, Lockwood. Or I’ll make you finish the dishes.”

He grumbled, but stood up from the Bonnie/Caroline/Album pile on the floor and answered the wall phone. “Donovan house.”

Elena frowned at his bored tone of voice, second-guessing herself for not letting it go to voicemail. She just wanted to lighten Matt’s load as much as possible. She knew, intellectually, that what had happened to Vicky and Kelly wasn’t her fault. Emotionally it was hard not to blame herself, when the only vampire she knew for sure was in town was definitely there because she and her destined face existed.

“Elena,” Tyler hissed at her and she almost dropped a plate. Fuck. She really was a jumpy drunk right now.

“What? Who is it?”

“He says he’s Matt and Vicky’s dad,” he told her, eyes wide with shock, holding his hand over the receiver. “I don’t. I don’t know what to tell him. He said he got a call from Caroline’s mom?”

She gaped at him, blinking rapidly. God, their dad? He’d left town before Matt was even born, or just after. She’d never met him and she didn’t think Matt had either, at least not old enough to remember, Vicky either. Taking a breath, she summoned as much sobriety as she could and held out her hand for the phone.

Tyler handed it to her with a look of deep relief and Elena held it up to her ear. “Hello, this is your son’s friend, Elena Gilbert. I’m sorry to be rude, sir, but why are you calling?”

There was a choked off sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Hi Elena. My name’s Peter. I’m calling because I’m coming to Mystic Falls, I’ll be there tomorrow, and I wanted to let my children know because I think they’ve had enough shock in their life lately.”

Elena scoffed. “I don’t think a phone call’s going to help mute this one much.”

There was a pause, during which Elena very much regretted the three beers she’d drunk, and then a deep sigh. “No, it’s not. I know I’ve been a terrible parent. I haven’t been a parent at all. But legally I have custody now and while they might not want me, I’m going to do my best to be there for them now.”

Something like tears was burning in the back of Elena’s throat, the desire to shout at this man for daring to think he had a right to be a parent now warring with the hope that this could be good for Matt and Vicky. “I’ll let Matt know you’re coming,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how much the Sheriff told you, but he’s staying with Vicky at the hospital right now. They’ll both still be there tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Elena. I’m glad my son has such good friends.”

“You’d better be good for him. For both of them. Because they do have good friends, a lot of them,” she told him, voice as cold and threatening as Katerina at her best.

“I look forward to meeting them. Goodbye, Elena.”

Elena hung up without responding and then met Tyler, Caroline, and Bonnie’s astonished stares. “So Matt and Vicky’s dad will be here tomorrow. Apparently he still exists and has custody now.”

“You’re fucking terrifying, Elena,” Tyler told her. “Damn.”

“Yeah she is,” Caroline said, grinning widely.

Bonnie was the one to bring up the pertinent point. “We have to tell Matt. And we should not be drunk when we do it.”

“Yeah. Okay, the depressing party is officially over. It’s time for coffee,” Elena said, clapping her hands together. “Also, Caroline, please yell at your mom for me for not warning Matt, or any of us, that she was calling their dad.”

“Yes ma’am, with pleasure,” Caroline said, giving her a flashy salute.

Elena returned to the sink as Tyler moved to the coffee pot—might as well finish the dishes while she sobered up. Staring at the water as it ran over her hands, Elena wondered when adults stopped feeling like a resource, a safe place to turn to. Sometimes she wondered if they’d ever felt like that.

Too early she’d known there were things she couldn’t tell her parents, things it wasn’t safe for anyone to know. She loved Jenna, and was very grateful for everything her aunt had done for her and Jeremy. But she couldn’t bring her into vampires and destiny and death that wasn’t a tragic accident. She was still barely an adult herself, trying to finish college and be a good guardian to two fucked up, grieving teenagers.

Sheila was probably the closest to someone she could trust outside of Bonnie and Caroline. She needed to talk to her. About doppelgangers and curses and if fate had a say or she’d just been really fucking unlucky. About how to keep her friends safe, from this threat and any others that showed up.

Good or bad, safe or not, they’d lost enough parents this year. Mystic Falls didn’t need any more orphans.

Chapter Text

The arrow thunked into the target, just inside the smallest of the three rings. Bonnie whooped and Elena clapped as Caroline turned to face them, flushed with success.

“I am officially a badass,” the blonde said with a wide grin. “Think I could be, like, sexy Robin Hood for Halloween this year?”

“The sexiest Robin Hood,” Elena agreed, grinning back at her. Caroline had picked things up faster than Elena had, when teaching herself years ago, or Bonnie, who was focused more on honing her magic and lacked their friend’s natural athleticism. Caroline’s years of cheerleading and gymnastics, combined with her innate drive to succeed at all costs, meant that she was going to surpass her teacher before too long.

“Perfect. We can do a whole folklore theme? Bonnie, you’d be an awesome Morgana, or Lady of the Lake? And Elena could be Van Helsing, vampire hunting badass.”

Bonnie’s eyes lit up, clearly already thinking of ideas, and Elena nodded. “I bet there’s some Gilbert heirlooms I could use for a really authentic costume.” And maybe dressing as a vampire hunter would clue one particular vampire in to her lack of desire to date him.

Caroline handed the bow to Elena. “Awesome! I have to get to practice and corral the girls into being as good at cheering as I am at being a badass archer and costume planner,” she said, bright and peppy with a bloodthirsty grin. “Elena, I understand you’re bowing out of cheerleading this year, but Bonnie, my darling friend, you are not exempt.”

Bonnie shrugged, smile dimming into something less than enthusiastic, and Caroline went in for the kill. “Besides, I heard Stefan, our lovelorn little vampire, has joined the football team for some reason, and, my badassery aside, you wouldn’t want to leave me without any backup, would you?”

Their friend huffed, and reluctantly nodded. “Fine. But you are not making me the top of the tower just because I’m ‘tiny’, got it?”

“Deal,” Caroline told her, then winked at Elena as she slung an arm around Bonnie’s shoulders and steered her toward the gate out of Elena’s backyard. “How do you feel about flaming batons?”

“What?!” Bonnie’s horrified exclamation echoed back toward Elena and she giggled, closing her eyes and letting the sun sink into her skin for a moment. She loved her friends so much, and she was so deeply grateful that they were still here, in her life, eagerly learning even the scary, impossible parts of it. She couldn’t do any of it without them.

It broke her heart, sometimes, to think of how alone Katerina had been. Oh she was often surrounded by people, had a knack for acquiring allies despite her almost equally strong knack for betraying them in the name of her own survival. But friends? People she trusted with her heart and her life? Those she did not have. Had not had, since her babe was ripped from her arms.

Elena knew her doppelganger had done terrible things. Had seen them in her dreams, so much blood spilled. But she also knew her hurts, her fear, all of the people and potential lives she’d lost. Katerina was desperately lonely and she couldn’t even admit it to herself.

So many of them were, in the end. Loved and wanted only for their faces, and not their selves. But Katerina was the only one still here. The only one like herself that Elena could actually meet, have a conversation with that would be new and real and not dead memories floating around her psyche. Of course, Katerina might just kill her, or give her to the monster who wanted Katerina’s blood. But that didn’t stop Elena from wondering, from hoping, that maybe she could ease some of that terrible isolation. For both of them.

She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, then went to the target and pulled out the arrows still stuck in the wood. She collected the ones that had missed entirely, and took them and the bow back inside, hiding them in her room. Their experiments in archery weren’t a secret, but she preferred to keep actual weapons out of reach of her brother until she was confident in his sobriety. For now, she hoped it would work as motivation. He could join them if he convinced her he was done with pills.

Jenna had given her free use of her car, but Elena still wasn't comfortable driving, especially alone. So she jogged to Sheila Bennett’s house—without cheerleading, she needed to keep up her fitness on her own.

Sheila ushered her in with a crooked smile, leading her to the living room and offering her ice-cold sweet tea before settling into the chair across from Elena and asking the pertinent question.

“Elena Gilbert, what brings you to my living room with such a long face?”

Elena just looked at Sheila, at Grams, for a moment, remembering every sleepover spent at her house. She’d had the best stories, never begrudged their shenanigans, and her homemade chocolate-covered peppermints were to die for. She’d been kind to all of them, not just Bonnie, but Elena knew the value of family, and knew how little of it Bonnie had. She’d been half an orphan long before Elena lost her parents, and now that she knew the truth, she needed her Grams more than ever.

“I, I don’t want to take advantage of you, I know Bonnie is your priority and she needs you. But I’m hoping that either you know something about my family I don’t, or that you can help me do a bloodline spell.” Elena stopped and frowned, leaning back in her chair. Here she was, discussing her biggest secret for the first time in her life, as if it was nothing. And maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t a secret at all.

“Do you know that I’m a doppelganger?”

Sheila’s eyebrows arched upwards, her head tilting to the side as she studied Elena. “I didn’t expect you to know that. Your parents certainly didn’t, as far as I could tell.”

Elena’s lips twisted. “I don’t think so, but then, they never told me the truth about the Gilberts’, so I don’t actually know for sure.” She tilted her head right back at Sheila. “Is it obvious, to a witch? Or just to a Bennett witch.”

Sheila smiled, slow and sure, though there was a wariness in her eyes that Elena hadn’t seen before. “A Bennett witch. If your parents told you nothing, Elena, how do you know so much about your family, and mine?”

“I remember them,” she told the older woman, watching her eyes widen at every new word she spoke. “All of them. Not, everything. It comes in pieces, and without context I don’t always understand them. But I remember enough. Enough to know all about the Gilberts and the Bennetts and their history in this town.”

Elena leaned forward, utterly sincere, offering truth and trust. “But I don’t know how a Gilbert had a Petrova doppelganger for a daughter. And I’m hoping you can help me find out. I don’t want to repeat my ancestors' mistakes, or cruelties.” She grimaced. “Petrova, or Gilbert. I will not use Bonnie like Katherine and Jonathan used Emily. I promise.”

Bonnie’s grandmother studied her in silence, the weight of her regard heavier than the weight of her magic, filling the room like air. “You have been a good friend to my Bonnie, Elena. I will help you with a bloodline spell as I have no idea which of your parents carries Petrova blood. And you will keep my granddaughter safe from whatever chaos your face brings to town.”

“I promise,” Elena vowed, and meant it with all her heart.

Sheila grinned, as mischievous as her granddaughter ever was, and the atmosphere of the room lightened at once. “Well then, let’s figure out some Gilbert family secrets.”

The other woman was far more experienced and skilled in magic, and she quickly gathered the needed components for the spell. Elena bled into a goblet, a small cut on the side of her hand, where it would least be irritated by touching things. Sheila added bayleaf, dandelion, and some shavings of hawthorne. “Wisdom, divination, and the blessings of your ancestors,” she told Elena with each addition.

Delight bubbled behind Elena’s answering smile, entirely separate from her determination to learn the truth of her origins. This was her first time doing magic with someone. First time learning from someone not long dead. Her life had been a secret for so long, so much of who she was hidden from everyone, and now it wasn’t. Bonnie and Caroline knew some of it, Sheila even more. As terrifying and awful as vampires coming to town again had been, part of her was grateful for all that had happened since she’d seen Stefan’s face in the halls of the high school.

Sheila broke her of her reverie by taking her hands, the goblet framed between them. Sheila whispered, words, not in English, that Elena couldn’t quite make out. The liquid in the goblet caught flame, not red, but golden, heavy with the scent of copper. Sheila’s eyes flicked to the side and a sheet of paper lifted from the table, dancing in the air until it hovered over the plume of smoke. Words appeared, indecipherable smudges of ash that gradually clarified under the force of Sheila’s magic and Elena’s blood.

Her hand was released with a suddenness that startled Elena, and the older woman plucked the page from the air before it could fall as the flames winked out. Sheila handed the paper to her without looking at the names, leaving it to her to share or not.

Elena looked down, almost against her will, and felt all her joy sink like a stone in her stomach as she saw the two just above hers on the paper.

Isobel Flemming and John Gilbert

Chapter Text

Life does not wait for you. No matter how devastating a loss or revelation, it continues, ever forward. Elena had learned that lesson, over and over again. It vibrated in her bones as she leaned against Matt’s side, watching Bonnie and Jeremy bicker over who was helping who carry a box into the moving van.

“I’m going to miss you,” she told him, looking away from the parade of friends and boxes and change up into his face. His blue eyes, always so warm, were pale, and his answering smile equally pale as he wrapped both arms around her.

“I’ll miss you too, Elena.” He buried his face in her hair and for a moment they could pretend life hadn’t moved on, nothing had been lost, and things were as they had been before. He sighed and let her go, taking a step back and reaching out for her hand. She took it, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. “I’m sorry I was such a dick when we broke-up, Elena. I had no idea what you were going through and I should have been there for you as a friend without trying to guilt trip you into dating me again.”

She smiled, heart aching with how much she loved this dear, sweet boy, even if it wasn’t how they had both once thought she did. “I forgive you. We were kids, Matt. We are kids. We’re gonna fuck up.” She squeezed his hand again. “And then we’re going to do better.”

He nodded, smile a little less pale, and she turned to face the driveway again. “How are you doing with all this? The dad thing, not the moving thing.”

Matt grimaced. “I don’t know. Vicky’s angry enough for the both of us, so I don’t feel like I should be. But where was he when mom was just gone instead of dead?” He shook his head, looking at her with something on the line between rueful and bitter. “And then I feel guilty because I’m also glad I don’t have to do this alone, and that maybe Vicky will get some help, and maybe things will be better than with mom. What kind of son does that make me? To be glad the one who kept us, kind of, is dead?”

Elena shook her head, stepping closer and holding his gaze. “You’re not glad she’s dead, Matt. Being glad that you and Vicky might have a stable parental figure for once doesn’t mean you don’t wish your mom was alive.” Reaching out with her free hand, she rested it on his heart, feeling her next to words to him resonating with her own secret, grief-filled anger. “You can acknowledge your mom’s flaws and still mourn her loss. It doesn’t make you a bad person, or a bad son.”

She would never understand why her parents never told her the truth of her blood, or stop being angry and heartbroken that she couldn’t talk to them about it. She would also never stop loving them, or wishing they were here for her to have that fight with them and then move on to forgiveness.

Matt didn’t answer with words, just hugged her again, kissed the top of her head, and then went to help Vicky with a stack of boxes.

Elena took a moment to wrestle with a bitter mixture of relief and resentment that their father was taking them out of Mystic Falls, out of Virginia altogether. It would be safer for them, especially Vicky, if the vampire hadn’t given up. But Matt had long been the kind, calm rock of their friend group, and knowing he wouldn’t be in her life anymore felt like losing a limb.

It was worse for him, she knew, and Vicky. They were losing their whole lives in one fell swoop, a new parent, a new state, a new school. She hoped their father had truly changed and wasn’t going to flake out on his kids after taking them away from anyone else who could help. Despite all her earlier self-reflection on the dangers of compulsion and why she was glad she didn’t have it, right now she would give just about anything to be able to compel their dad to be a good one. If anyone deserved a parent that lived up to the title, it was Matt and Vicky.

Bonnie looked over at her, hands on her hips. “No being sad! Only carrying. Come tell your brother that cheerleaders know how to properly lift something and he should listen to me.”

Jeremy scoffed, but Elena could see the faint edges of a smile curving his mouth and it made her heart lighten. He had retreated to his room for two days when he found out Vicky was moving, and she hadn’t been sure if inviting him to help them load the Uhaul would help or not.

“Until you’ve had to properly lift a whole other human while being lifted by other humans yourselves, knowing that if you drop them they will break bones, you do not know more than Bonnie,” Elena told him, grinning. “You know cheerleaders experience more dangerous injuries than football players do.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s badass and a real sport, you gave me that lecture when I was 8,” he said, smirking a little as he turned back to Bonnie. “Lifting a person still isn’t the same as lifting a box. Unless you’re telling me I haven’t noticed a square cheerleader walking around.”

Bonnie huffed. “Baby Gilbert’s grown up all sassy. Aren’t you supposed to be brooding in a dark corner somewhere?”

Jeremy rolled his eyes and Elena laughed, then grabbed both their shoulders and steered them back toward the house. “Come on, there are more heavy things to lift and argue about.”

It was a hard day, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a good one, a rare moment with almost every one she loved in one place. She intended to enjoy it.

Elena cheered hard from the sidelines, feeling out of place to not be in the lineup with Caroline and Bonnie, and with no Matt on the field. But Tyler was still playing, and Caroline was flawlessly leading the girls, and the energy of the crowd kept her smiling and shouting for the whole game. Stefan caught her eyes once, but otherwise stayed away, and she was grateful for it. She needed time to think, to figure out what she should do, what she could do, about the one vampire she knew was in town, and the others she suspected.

After the game, she loitered in the parking lot, waiting for Bonnie and Caroline to finish up with the other cheerleaders, texting with Jenna about what kinds of ice cream her aunt should get at the store and trying to only think normal teen girl thoughts.

“You know, my brother tried to keep me away tonight. Thought I wouldn’t be interested in seeing him play football,” Elena looked up from her phone, more struck by the sound of the drawling voice than the words themselves. It told her who was there before her eyes saw the face that was far too close to her own.

“Damon,” she whispered, unable to help herself, and he smiled, sharp and wicked. One of his hands reached out and cupped her chin. Her skin crawled at the unwanted and unasked for touch and she knew her face had given away her dismay, but he just leaned closer.

“But, see, Elena, I think he was really trying to keep me away from you. And we can’t have that, can we? We both know which brother you really want.” He hovered, mouth inches from hers, and his pupils dilated. “Kiss me, Elena.”

She jerked back, shock broken by rising fury. “Do not touch me ever again. I am not Katherine. I am not Stefan’s. And I am not interested.”

His eyes widened and then his features contorted in a snarl and her hand came up before she could stop herself, could think to hide her advantage. Magic warmed her palm, pushing him back almost ten feet, enough force that only his vampire reflexes kept him from falling.

Her heart pulsed in her throat, racing with terror and anger, and her skin burned. Damon’s snarl faded into a wary grimace and he paced in a slow circle around her.

“No, you aren’t Katherine. What are you, little girl? And do you really think you can stop me from doing whatever I want to you or this town?” He shook his head, tutting. “Oh yes, Stefan passed on your little warning. Though he didn’t say who gave it to him, trying to protect his weak little human. He doesn’t know what you are either, does he?”

She ignored the taunt, and didn’t bother to turn to keep an eye on him as he circled her. Her magic would tell her where he was and she refused to show any more fear than he could already detect from her rapidly beating pulse. “I meant what I told him. Vampires who kill and hurt innocent people aren’t welcome in this town, and we are more capable of defending ourselves than you realized.”

Damon laughed, dark and bitter. “Oh I know exactly what the humans of this town are capable of, sweet Elena. Do you?”

“I know what I’m capable of, do you?” she responded, refusing to engage in debate with him.

He studied her, bitterness fading into something colder, more calculating, although she could see the rage still burning in his too blue eyes. He smiled after a long moment, a feral look. “I guess we’ll find out.”

And then he was gone.

Chapter Text

By the time Bonnie and Caroline arrived at the car, Elena mostly had her trembling under control. The urge to vomit hadn’t quite faded, but anger was starting to temper the terror racing through her veins. Flushed and happy with the post-adrenaline rush of a game, her friends still noticed her distress instantly, Caroline reaching out for her and Bonnie looking around the parking lot with wide, suspicious eyes.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Elena shook her head. No, she was definitely not okay. “I know who killed Matt’s mom,” she said out loud. “He’s not done and I don’t know what he wants.”

Other than her, but she doubted that was why he’d come to town. He hadn’t been surprised to see her, but he’d been wary, prodding her. She wasn’t a part of whatever impulse or plan had brought him to Mystic Falls, that, at least, she was confident of.

Bonnie gasped and Caroline swore, quiet and filthy enough to shock anyone who didn’t know the blonde as well as she did. Elena managed to still her hands completely and took a deep breath. “Can you two spend the night? I don’t want to leave Jenna and Jeremy alone in the house and we should talk.”

Caroline nodded and Bonnie held up her phone. “Already texting Grams, anything I should tell her.”

Elena swallowed, her mouth still dry. “Tell her Damon Salvatore is in town and we’re going to need a lot more vervain.”

They were halfway to her house when they saw the cars heading for the school, sirens whirling. Elena’s stomach dropped. What had he done? What victim had he found when she proved too strong a target? Who had she failed to protect by letting him leave.

Caroline’s cell phone rang before her self-flagellation spiral could devolve any further and her friend threw it into Elena’s lap. “If I answer while driving, my mom will kill me.”

Elena stared at Liz Forbes’ face on the screen and then accepted the call, tapping the speaker button. “Hey Sheriff Forbes, Caroline’s driving but I put you on speaker.”

“Oh thank god you girls are alright, I assume Bonnie’s with you?”

“Yeah I’m here, Sheriff,” Bonnie said, leaning forward between the two front seats. “What happened? We saw the sirens.”

There was a moment of silence, Elena assuming the Sheriff was hesitating to share details of the incident with three teenage girls, even if one was her daughter, and then a loud sigh. “One of your teachers was attacked by some sort of wild animal that broke into the school. Coach Tanner won’t be overseeing any more games.”

A complicated rush of relief and guilt had Elena slumping in her seat. She shouldn’t be relieved that it was an asshole instead of someone she cared about, she should just be horrified a man was dead. But she was, relieved. And, in the small corner of her soul that echoed with the voices of her dead sisters, spitefully glad that the man would never torment her brother, her aunt, or herself ever again.

“I’m going to stay at Elena’s, mom, with Bonnie, so don’t worry about me,” Caroline said into the heavy silence that followed the Sheriff’s words.

“Just, be careful Caroline. All of you, stay in. Between this and Kelly, well, just, stay safe and don’t be alone at night.”

Something in her voice, and her words, sharpened Elena’s attention.

The Sheriff knew.

And if she knew, well, perhaps the council that had caused such danger for the vampires in Katherine’s time was less extinct than she thought. There wouldn’t be a Gilbert anymore, but had her father been on such a council? Had her mother known? She’d long suspected her Uncle John of hunting vampires. His lack of an actual job and the way her father, an ambitious doctor, had never chided him for it, had always been suspicious. The Mayor would be on it of course. One of the adult Fell’s. Sheila might know more.

Calculating the implications and dangers of the council helped Elena push through the guilt. She didn’t agree with her ancestors' stance on the supernatural, as a thing to be eradicated at all costs. But Damon Salvatore? She would happily let the council eliminate him if they were capable of doing so without collateral damage.

“We’ll stay safe, Sheriff,” she said out loud, no hint of her thoughts in her voice. “We’ll stay in all night and Aunt Jenna will be with us.”

“Thank you, Elena. I have to go. I love you, Caroline.” The Sheriff didn’t wait for a response before hanging up, perhaps not expecting one given her and Caroline’s often contentious relationship, and Bonnie and Caroline both turned to her when the call ended.

“Did Damon do it-” “Is Damon related to Stefan?”

Elena nodded, to both questions, then pointed at the road. “Drive, Caroline, I’ll tell you everything I know when we’re inside a house no vampires have been invited into.”

Caroline obeyed, Bonnie settling back against her seat although her eyes watched them both in the rearview mirror. Elena stared out the window, remembering a crow’s scream and blue eyes that had looked at Katerina with fierce desire, and felt rage like she hadn’t allowed herself to feel since the night they went off Wickery Bridge.

How dare he. How dare he come to her town, their town, and murder people. How dare he try to force her affections, to force her. How dare he make her afraid. She was Elena Gilbert, Doppelganger, Traveler, descendant of vampire hunters. She was not weak, she was not naive, and she was very tired of reacting to tragedy. Their enemy was faceless and nameless no longer and for all his danger, all his strength and speed they could not match, he could be killed. He would be killed, and, if she had her way, he would know fear before his end.

“You have that terrifying look on your face again,” Caroline told her, somewhat smugly, and Elena looked away from her reflection in the window to see that they had arrived and both of her friends were staring at her.

Elena grinned, sharp and sweet. “We are all terrifying, Caroline, and we are going to make sure that every vampire in town knows it.”

Bonnie grinned back, fierce and ready, and Caroline followed suit, a hint of doubt in her eyes that Elena was determined to chase away. You didn’t need magic to kill a vampire, and Caroline needed no help from anyone or anything to inspire terror.

“Come on, it is time for plotting and ice cream, and you two have always been better at plotting than me.”

“But can we still drink, or are you and Jenna still trying to set a good example for Jeremy?” Bonnie asked, smile twitching mischievously as she linked arms with Elena.

“Oh there had better be drinking,” Caroline asserted, taking Elena’s other arm and tugging them both up the stairs. “I am not plotting how to kill a vampire without alcohol. And Buffy. You still have those DVDs I got you right?” Before Elena could answer, Caroline’s eyes narrowed and she pinched Elena’s arm. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you said nothing about your own vampire hunting legacy when I gave you that birthday present, Gilbert.”

Elena yelped at the pinch, Caroline had used her nails, and Bonnie laughed. “We know now, Caroline, and Elena has told us all her secrets. Right?” she finished with a severe look at Elena.

Elena took a deep breath and shook her head. “I have not. But I will. Let’s reassure Jenna and make sure Jeremy is in for the night and I will tell you all about Stefan and Damon Salvatore and why neither will leave me alone.”

Chapter Text

Jeremy was in his room, listening to music. Jenna had to work on her thesis and was happy to let Elena have a girl’s night, not even raising an eyebrow when she saw Bonnie snagging a bottle of rum from the liquor cabinet.

Elena had led her friends to her room, glasses filled with rum floats—vanilla ice cream, coke, and rum—and, after retrieving the sketchbook hidden under a loose floorboard, settled with them on the bed.

“A long time ago, like, thousands of years, there was a woman named Amara,” Elena told them, appreciating the confusion visible on both of their faces at this unexpected start. Looking down, she flipped open the first page of her sketchbook. Amara’s face looked back at her, hair peeking out from her cloth hood, worry in her eyes. Turning the sketchbook, Elena gently tapped next to her face. “This was Amara.”

Bonnie frowned and Caroline arched an eyebrow. “That’s you, Elena.”

“It is Amara. She lived in a society led by powerful magic users. She was a servant, to a woman named Quetsiyah, the most powerful witch in their city. And she was in love, with Silas, Quetsiyah’s betrothed and the second most powerful witch.” Elena looked down at the picture, seeing the crimson cloth and the light in the dark eyes her simple lines did not convey. “She was kind and clever. She didn’t begrudge her station as a servant, except that it kept her from her love. She loved Silas more than anything.”

She debated silently for a moment, as Caroline and Bonnie waited, spellbound. “She loves Silas more than anything and he loved her, perhaps still loves her, though she has been sealed away and believes him dead.”

Amara believed herself dead, and for her sake Elena wished it was true. She didn’t know what had happened to Amara, the first doppelganger’s memories too fragmented by pain for clarity. The dreams she slipped into were tormented things, slivers of her secret love with Silas the only bright spots. Elena suspected that Silas also lived still, hidden somewhere, given Stefan Salvatore’s familiar face, but his fate was of less interest to her. Amara’s fate was cruel and had endured for far too long, someday Elena would very much like to find her, and free her, from whatever curse Quetsiyah had used to trap her.

Fortifying herself with a long drink of melted ice cream and boozy soda, Elena looked up at her friends with a crooked smile. “Silas tricked his betrothed into creating an immortality spell, so that they could be together forever. Instead he and Amara took the elixir she created. She discovered the betrayal and cursed them both. I do not know how. I do not know if she found a way to kill Silas. But Amara she trapped in perpetual torment and she still lives, somewhere.”

“That’s awful,” Bonnie breathed, and Caroline nodded.

“I mean, Amara totally broke girl code in stealing her fiance, but that is super fucked up.”

Elena snorted, and clinked her glass against Caroline’s. “Agreed.”

“Despite everything I’m about to tell you, I don’t know nearly as much about magic as your Grams, Bonnie, but, I know enough to know that nature wants balance and Amara becoming immortal disturbed that balance. So, as a side effect of her immortality, doppelgangers were created. Mortal doppelgangers.”

Caroline looked confused but Bonnie’s eyes went wide. “That’s what you are. Does that mean you have to die?”

“We all die, Bonnie,” Elena said, a statistically true statement given how few immortals there were. “But no, I don’t have to die any sooner than a natural death would be, at least, not for that.” There was at least one other quasi-immortal who wanted to sacrifice her, but the story wasn’t there yet.

She flipped the page on her sketchbook before they could ask any more questions, revealing another face. The dark hair was up in elaborate curls and buns, a headdress embedded with gems holding it in place. Her shoulders could be seen, embroidered cloth draped across them and cutting deeply off the page, the top curve of her breasts visible.

“Helen of Troy. Not blonde as it turns out, despite Hollywood’s casting preferences.”

Elena had a lot of complex and conflicting feelings about a woman with her face being deemed the most beautiful in the world, puberty had been difficult. Her feelings about Helen herself were just as complex, but far less conflicting. The movies and myths were far from accurate, but the pain, the degradation, the being treated as a prized object and not a person, the aching loss, that was true.

“Magic wasn’t in her life, not like Amara’s, nor were any gods, just men with their greed and lust, for power and for her.” Her lips twitched, not amusement, some bitter cousin. “Maybe Quetsiyah’s curse extended not just to Amara, but to all who bore her face.”

“How, how do you know these things, Elena, do you have some sort of grimoire?” Bonnie asked, her tone gentle but her eyes sharp with curiosity.

“No,” Elena shook her head. “Nothing physical has been passed down between the doppelgangers. Some didn’t even know they were doppelgangers. But I remember them.” Her fist clenched, the other tightening on her glass until it threatened to break, and she breathed for a moment, forcing herself to release the tension. “Not everything and not everyone. Some are clearer than others. But I’ve had pieces of their memories, I’ve had their faces and voices in my dreams, since before I could talk.”

Caroline finally spoke up into the heavy silence after that statement, the frown that had wrinkled her forehead since the first picture fading into something else. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked, shock and a little hurt in her voice, quiet in a way it rarely was. “We could have helped you deal, or at least let you vent.”

Elena smiled and, after carefully setting her still half-full glass on the nightstand, leaned forward and pulled them both into a hug, kissing the top of Caroline’s head. “You did help. Both of you. I could not have survived any of the last sixteen years without you.”

She pulled back, taking one of each of their hands instead. Caroline looked a little teary and Bonnie took her other hand, squeezing both in support. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was private and, well, I have more to tell you, but it’s dangerous too, and I never wanted either of you to get hurt.”

Wrinkling her nose, Elena let go of their hands and brushed her fingers against Helen’s face, captured in a rare, genuine smile. “And I was selfish. I wanted to just be a girl for as long as I could, before my face made it impossible.”

“Well, I say screw the impossible, you can be whoever you want to be,” Caroline said, her brief moment of tears burning away into the fierce sharpness she wielded so well. “No curse is going to stop you if we have anything to say about it. And clearly things have changed since this tragic history because you are gorgeous, but certainly not any more than me and Bonnie,” she added with an only semi-serious huff and a flip of her hair.

“Caroline!” Bonnie slapped her arm, but couldn’t hold in her giggle, and Elena didn’t even bother to try, laughing until tears appeared at the corners of her eyes.

“I love you both so much. If any of my predecessors had been blessed with you, things might have gone quite differently,” she told them with complete sincerity, the warmth of their love for her and hers for them protecting her from the darkness of the story.

Loneliness was a strikingly common factor in all of the doppelgangers' lives, much of it stemming from the role women were forced to play in the societies they had lived in. Elena was deeply grateful for her friends, and for the ways society had changed. Taking a deep breath, she sat back and picked up her glass, the ice cream melted enough that she could drain it in one go, eliciting a whoop from Bonnie and cheers from Caroline.

“Rhea,” Elena said firmly, determined to finish this recital. Their names and stories had burned within her for her whole life and they deserved to be told. Flipping the page, Elena revealed a determined face in the soft lines of a nun’s habit. “Rhea lived in Italy, outside of Sicily. Competing offers for her hand in marriage led to violence and she chose to refuse them all and join a convent. She fell in love with one of the other nuns, who loved her deeply in return. She might have had the happiest life of all of us, if Sicily hadn’t been invaded.”

Bonnie winced and Caroline flopped back against Elena’s pillows. “This is a depressing story, Elena. Can we please order pizza before you tell us about her presumably brutal death in the arms of her lover.”

Elena laughed, then leaned over and returned her friend’s earlier pinch, aiming for Caroline’s hip. “Yes we can order pizza. And if you are patient, I promise you will love at least part of this story.”

Carolline stuck her tongue out and then pushed Elena away, pulling her cell phone out to call for pizza. “The usual?”

“Plus coke! I need another drink and we used the last of it,” Bonnie said and Elena nodded. She waited for Caroline to finish ordering and then picked up the sketchbook, drawing attention back to the pages.

“While we wait, are you ready for the next one? It’s big. The creation of vampires big.”

Bonnie’s eyes widened and then narrowed in intent curiousity and Caroline nodded, setting her cell phone down. “Just tell me how depressed I’m going to be after.”

Elena waggled her hand side to side. “Uh, less depressing than eternal torment. But complicated. And more personal.”

“You get to convince my mom to pay for therapy again if I need it after this,” Caroline said with a huff, but didn’t argue further, instead picking up one of Elena’s pillows to hug and leaning against Bonnie.

Elena flipped the page and for the first time a version of her face didn’t look back. Instead the penciled lines revealed an older woman with strong features and long, fair hair pulled back from her face. “Esther Mikaelson was born a thousand years ago. I don’t know much about her early life, but at some point she and her husband and their children migrated to the Americas. To here, in fact. Long before it was Mystic Falls.”

“There were Vikings here?!” Carolline exclaimed. “Why didn’t we learn that? That would be so much more interesting than yet another unit on the Battle of Willow Creek.”

“Seriously. If they make me write one more paper about the confederacy, I will not be responsible for my actions,” Bonnie said, genuine rage in her tone.

Caroline, still leaning against Bonnie, dropped the pillow and wrapped her arms around her friend instead. “Bonnie, as Chair of, well, every single committee in Mystic Falls, I promise you that this year’s founder’s festival will not have any celebration of the confederate army. Even if I have to get Elena to use either the orphan card or magic to make the Mayor listen to me.”

Bonnie smiled and hugged her back, the anger in her eyes still visible but dimmed, and Elena smiled at both of them, then looked at Caroline. “I’m so glad we’re at the point of using each other’s trauma against other people,” she said dryly.

Caroline winced and reached out for her without letting go of Bonnie. “I’m sorry, Elena, I,” she grimaced. “I’m still working on that whole thinking, then speaking thing.”

Elena laughed and waved her hand away, pushing down the grief that had flared at hearing the word orphan. “It’s fine. And we really should have done something about the gross confederate shit years ago, I’m sorry, Bonnie.”

Bonnie nodded, accepting her apology. “Tell us about the Vikings, Elena. I’m definitely ready to hear about a different history for Mystic Falls.”

“Right. Esther and her family joined some other settlers from their people, and a local Native American tribe. She was a powerful witch, but their life was quiet, hunting and farming, raising their children. One of the neighboring villages, also a mix between Viking settlers and Native Americans, was a werewolf clan.”

“So we really are living in Underworld,” Caroline snarked.

“Not a terrible comparison,” Elena agreed, thinking of werewolf bites and hybrid curses. “Their werewolf neighbors were friendly, but came with particular dangers on the full moon. Esther and another witch in their village, Ayana, spelled some caves to protect them from the wolves, giving the humans a safe place to reside on the night of the full moon. One of those humans was Tatia.” Elena turned to a new page, once again revealing the face of a doppelganger, her hair in complex braids and her expression fierce.

“Tatia was a Viking, a shieldmaiden. Her husband died in battle and she brought her daughter to the Americas for a fresh start. She had a fierce love for life, and for her daughter, and she refused to let grief steal them.” Tatia was something of an inspiration for Elena, a reminder to not lose herself to her losses, to mourn, and to move on. “She was a warrior, a mother, and the life of any party, and two of Esther Mikaelson’s sons fell hard and fast.”

“Elijah Mikaelson, second oldest son” she said, flipping to the next page to reveal a handsome man with shoulder length hair and a serious demeanor. The page after that was the hardest to turn to, the face that had haunted her worst nightmares. “Klaus Mikaelson, third son.”

“Oooh, hotties despite the unfortunate hair,” Caroline cooed, leaning forward to study the pictures.

They were, handsome. Tatia had thought so and Elena agreed, if she ignored their memories or her fears. It was hard to see anything but a monster in Klaus’ face. He hadn’t been a monster to Tatia, and he hadn’t been the first monster in Katherine’s life, but he was the monster still haunting her every move. He was the monster who would tear Elena’s throat out if he knew she existed, and would not hesitate to kill every family member she had left if he felt like it.

Her feelings for Klaus were very simple, in the end. Fear, and deep beneath it, dark and violent hatred.

Elijah was far harder to define. Tatia had loved him, had chosen him, but her choice had never been realized before Henrik’s death and Esther’s fatal decision. Katherine had not loved him, but she’d wanted to. She might have, in another world. One in which her father hadn’t been her first monster and Klaus wasn’t her second.

“I’m sure they have better hair now,” Elena said out loud, and smiled as Caroline’s eyes widened. “Tatia enjoyed the company of both brothers, and befriended the rest of the family. Once she’d had time to know them both, she’d chosen Elijah. The night she told him, the night she was going to bring him home to her daughter, was a full moon.”

“Klaus had a difficult relationship with his parents, his father was cruel even by Viking standards and by ours would have faced child abuse investigations. But he loved his siblings and they loved him and when his youngest brother, the baby of the family, wanted to go spy on the wolves, he agreed.” She hated Klaus. She would always hate Klaus. But Niklaus, kind middle son who’d made Tatia and his sister smile with his flirting and his opinions on dyes, him she mourned as she mourned all of her fellow doppelgangers’ lost loved ones. “They got too close and Henrik was killed. Mikael, their father, was furious and led their village in a slaughter against the wolves, when they were human again and vulnerable the next day.”

“That’s so sad and awful, for everyone,” Bonnie said, her lips twisted in a frown and her hands tight on her glass.

“It was. And yet, it wasn’t enough. Esther and Mikael wanted to ensure they would never lose another child. So she turned to magic, dark magic. Magic that required blood. And, conveniently, blood that was one of the most powerful magical binding agents in the world, filled her son’s betrothed.”

“No, she killed Tatia?” Caroline breathed out and Elena shook her head.

“Not yet. She used her blood though, didn’t tell her why, but Tatia trusted her and Esther was known for her magic in the village. And, with that blood, Esther Mikaelson created an immortality spell and with it, the world’s first vampires—Finn, Elijah, Klaus, Kol, Rebekah, and her husband, Mikael.”

Not all of her knowledge of the events of that time were Tatia’s, whom Esther had kept in the dark. Katherine had done her homework in the centuries since meeting Klaus, determined to know everything she could about an enemy so much stronger than her.

“They didn’t know, at first, what the spell would entail. I don’t know if Grams has told you about werewolves yet, Bonnie, but it’s an inherited curse. And it’s triggered by killing another person.”

Bonnie seemed to be pondering the nature of such a curse while Caroline gasped, realizing where Elena was going before she said it. “When they first lost control of their bloodlust, Klaus began to change. Mikael was not his father and he had become a hybrid, werewolf and vampire in one.”

“That is some Buffy meets Desperate Housewives level of drama,” Caroline said, her eyes practically glowing with fascination. “Also I so called it with that Underworld reference.”

Elena snorted, but didn’t respond. “I don’t, I don’t know everything that happened. I know Esther thought it an abomination and killed Tatia to bind Klaus’ werewolf side in a curse. I know that Esther didn’t survive the night either, but I don’t know how she died. I know that the rest still live, including Mikael, who is determined to kill his children and Klaus.”

Glancing back down at the page, she stared at Klaus’ eyes, seeing feral blue instead of pencil and creamy paper. “And I know that Klaus must sacrifice another doppelganger to break his curse.”

Chapter Text

Bonnie and Caroline were both quiet, the heaviness of Elena’s revelation weighing down the room. The doorbell broke the silence and Elena forced a smile. “You two go get the pizza, I need to go to the bathroom.” Bonnie could handle any danger that might be at the door and Elena needed a moment to breathe.

They didn’t argue and she waved them down the stairs and before opening her bathroom door. Jeremy was standing on the other side, leaning against the counter and staring at her. “So you’re a doppelganger.”

Elena’s stomach dropped, guilt and worry and fear spiking her heart rate. “Jer.”

“Were you ever going to tell me? About you and Bonnie, vampires?” he asked her, his voice steady. She didn’t see the anger she expected, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Sober, stable Jeremy was a lot better at lying than grieving, self-medicating Jeremy had been.

“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “It wouldn’t have been safe to keep it from you forever. I just wasn’t ready yet.”

“I hope you’re not lying,” he said, his tone still neutral, almost worse than accusation would have been. He turned to go and she reached out, resting her hand on his arm.

“Look in the attic, Jonathan Gilbert’s journals. You’ll find more there. And tomorrow I’ll answer any question you ask.”

Jeremy looked at her for a long moment and then nodded, cracking a hint of a smile. “At least now I know why you were obsessed with drawing yourself.”

She slapped his arm, finally allowing herself a relieved smile, and then, before he could stop her, wrapped her arms around him for an awkward hug. “I love you, Jeremy.”

“Gross,” was his predictable response, but he didn’t shake off the hug until she let go and she took it as it was meant, that he loved her too.

“Now go away, I have to pee,” she told him, and laughed as his face scrunched up and he backed out of the bathroom, his hands up as if she was going to contaminate him. Whatever her parents, biological and adopted, had been thinking, she was glad Jeremy was her brother. And she hoped he felt the same after she told him everything else he didn’t know.

After finishing and washing her hands, she returned to her bedroom and found Bonnie and Caroline sprawled on her bed with two open boxes of pizza. Bonnie was pouring herself a new drink—straight rum and coke, no ice cream—and Caroline was flipping back through the pages of Elena’s sketchbook, studying each face as she devoured a piece of margherita pizza.

Elena bit back a warning about pizza grease on the nice paper. It didn’t matter if they got smudged, they weren’t faces she could forget. Instead she flopped down next to them and grabbed a slice of pepperoni and pineapple before blinking appealingly up at Bonnie.

Her friend laughed at her and handed her the glass she’d been filling, leaning over to the side table for another one for herself.

“So, vampires exist and one of them wants to murder you,” Bonnie prompted her, once they’d all had at least two pieces of pizza in companionable silence.

Elena laughed at that succinct description. “More than one, I think. And more that would because of who I look like without ever stopping to figure out who I really am.” Very few of the enemies Katherine had made would stop to wonder why she was human before killing her or turning her over to Klaus.

Wiping her hands on a napkin, Elena sat up enough to balance her glass on her leg, then leaned over and snagged her sketchbook out of Caroline’s hands.

“Klaus and his siblings eventually figured out that they could make others like themselves, obviously, although as the originals they are far harder to kill than your average vampire. But they’re not the point of this story,” Elena said, turning the page and wishing it was as easy to dismiss the original vampires and their impact on her bloodline.

“There were now two powerful curses linked to the doppelgangers and I believe that made our occurrence more frequent. Miriam,” she said, tapping the page. “Never met the originals, but vampires were a part of her life.”

“She lived in what is now part of Russia, during a time when many different men warred over who ruled the area. Her family was not involved in the conflict—her father chopped wood and she and her mother cared for a few sheep, spinning and dying and selling the wool, and they didn’t have enough money or influence to be drawn into any of the wars.”

Elena offered Caroline a crooked smile. “More tragedy, I’m afraid, but not an unhappy ending. One of the men fighting for rulership was a vampire, though few others knew that. A few of his lieutenants were as well, and they made a game of hunting the peasantry for food and sport. Miriam’s father was one of their victims. Miriam and her mother were also targets, but they knew some magic and they fought back, killing several of the vampires before the few survivors fled. They, too, fled after, afraid of retribution, travelling south. Miriam found a husband and was the only one of us to die of old age.”

“You are not a Greek tragedy, Elena,” Caroline said, insistent, and Elena couldn’t help her laugh.

“I mean, I have Greek blood, have experienced tragedy, and am the current result of a curse on a Greek woman, so.”

Caroline scrunched her nose and then shook her head. “Nope. We’re a sexy teen drama and then we’re going to be a sexy college drama and then we’ll settle into an equally sexy but ideally less dramatic adult slice of life show.”

Bonnie grinned and nudged Caroline with her shoulder. “You will never not be a drama, Caroline.” The blonde huffed and Bonnie ignored her to reach for Elena’s hand. “But she’s right. Experiencing tragedy doesn’t mean you are a tragedy, and any vampires, or whoever else, that try to bring one here are going to get wrecked.”

Leaning forward, Elena tapped her glass against Bonnie’s. “Cheers to that.” Taking a long drink to fortify herself, her stomach burned with alcohol, excitement, fear, and too many other emotions to name as she flipped the page for almost the last time.

“Katerina Petrova. Doppelganger, daughter, mother, vampire,” Elena said, then scrunched her nose. “I’m making her sound like a Meredith Brooks song which is not the worst comparison but,” she stopped. Alcohol and Damon Salvatore and the freeing but heavy recounting of her ancestors was getting to her. “Katerina was born in Bulgaria in the 15th century, her father was an asshole and her mother loved her very much. She got pregnant at sixteen and her father took the baby from her after the birth and disowned her, sending her to England.”

It was a short, brutal recitation that could never encapsulate the grief and rage and love and betrayal of Katerina’s early life. Elena didn’t know how the memories worked, why she dreamt of them at all, why some doppelgangers she knew only a few details of and others had seen what felt like half their lives. But she’d dreamt of the moment Katerina’s daughter was taken from her more than almost any other moment in any of their lives, and she could only guess that it haunted Katerina still, whether she would admit it or not.

“Men suck,” Caroline declared, her and Bonnie wearing matching frowns and Elena nodded in heartfelt agreement. “They do. And they weren’t done ruining her life. England was the worst place Katerina could have been sent. The Originals were there, posing as nobles and Katerina was drawn to them, to Elijah, and to Klaus.”

Handsome, charming, powerful, rich. Of course she was drawn to them, even aside from the curse that bound them together. Any woman in her situation would have been.

“They knew what she was, of course. Pretended to woo her while Klaus gathered what he needed for the sacrifice to break his curse,” she told them, watching their scowls darken.

She didn’t know if Elijah had pretended. If the affection and honor he’d shown Katerina, the desire to keep her alive, had been real or if the centuries had worn him into a monster, the way they had so many others. Klaus’ intentions she had no doubt of, not with all the other glimpses she’d seen of the centuries of Katerina’s flight to stay alive.

Their father and mother had created vampires out of love for their children—the monster they had created out of Klaus they had done out of cruelty and fear and she hoped their souls suffered for eternity for the misery they had caused. Assuming Mikael was ever killed, of course.

“But Katerina was smart, cunning, and she’d already learned not to trust men’s promises. She figured out what they were, what they really wanted from her, and she ran. And when some vampires loyal to Klaus caught her, she tricked them into feeding her their blood, then killed herself to become a vampire so she could flee again.”

“Okay, so where’s the blockbuster movie about this badass, cause she sounds amazing,” Caroline declared. Elena grinned, but didn’t get to respond before Bonnie spoke up.

“She’s still alive, isn’t she?” her friend asked, looking at her closely. “You don’t talk about her like you did the others.”

Elena nodded. “She is. And still a badass. Not the Buffy type though,” she said, glancing at Caroline. “After she ran, Klaus slaughtered her family, her entire village.”

Caroline gasped and Bonnie looked furious. Elena looked down at the page, determined eyes and a sly smile that could only barely capture the edges of Katerina’s personality. “She’s done terrible things to survive since then. But she has, survived, despite the very powerful, very old vampire that has never stopped hunting her.” Elena had half a dozen sketchbooks, hidden away, that showed some of those terrible things.

“I don’t know what she’d do if she saw me. She might turn me over to Klaus, to get him off her back. She’s not, she’s not kind. The father of her child and her father and Klaus, she burned the kindness out of herself to survive them, to survive what they did.” Her voice was quieter now, more to herself than to her friends. “I hope I get to meet her anyways, someone like me, someone I could have been.”

Or could become, though she didn’t say that out loud. She didn’t know if she could force herself to the same lengths, to fight for her life over anyone else’s. But if Klaus killed everyone she loved, like he did to Katerina, maybe she too would become someone else. Become to Elena what Katherine was to Katerina.

Grief changed you. Anger changed you. And she’d tasted enough of both to know how easily they could consume.

“We could spend all night talking about Katerina, Katherine as she goes by now. But the key points are this. She came here, once, shortly after Mystic Falls was founded. She turned Stefan and Damon Salvatore into vampires before fleeing again, letting them believe she died. That is why they are here, or, at least why Stefan’s here. I think he saw me and thought I was her, and then wanted to figure out why I looked like her. She never told either of them about Klaus or doppelgangers.”

Their eyes were wide and Caroline looked vindicated. “That’s why Stefan’s obsessed with you.”

Elena laughed. “Yes. I am sure you would have been far more successful in wooing him if it wasn’t for the fact that I look like the woman he loved and thinks is dead.”

Caroline blushed. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, it’s kind of what I meant, but. Is Damon obsessed with you too? Why did he kill Matt and Vicky’s mom?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem to know I was here? Or he did, but, like he’d learned since coming to town. I don’t know if he came for Stefan. I’ve been keeping tabs and I don’t think Stefan’s fed from anyone in town since he arrived. But I don’t know anything about what Damon’s been doing, besides killing people. Or why he’s here.”

“Then we just have to find out,” Bonnie said, determined. “Before he can kill anyone else.”

“Yes! Time to put those archery skills to work,” Caroline agreed. “After all of these stories, I desperately want to shoot at least one asshole.”

Elena snorted. “I promise, Caroline, we will find you an asshole to shoot.” Turning toward Bonnie, she let her smile fade. “And we will stop Damon. We are not letting him turn this town into his personal feeding grounds.”

“Good,” Bonnie said, with a sharp nod.

Caroline flopped dramatically on the bed, dragging a pillow over her face so that her voice was muffled. “Can we please plan for battle tomorrow. It’s like, 2 AM and I want to sleeeeep.”

“So you don’t want to know that Anne Boleyn was a doppelganger,” Elena said calmly, ignoring her own exhaustion.

Bonnie laughed as the pillow went flying, Caroline sitting up with wide eyes and a wild grin. “Elena Gilbert, you tell me everything about my favorite historical figure right this second or I shall never speak to you again.”

Chapter Text

Tyler’s father was a raging asshole and if he’d been on the other side of the door, Mayor or not, nothing could have made Elena open it at 8 AM, a bare three hours after she and her friends finally fell asleep. Tyler’s mother was kind of uptight and a little too into the Founders’ heritage, but she wasn’t a horrible person so Elena forced her perfect founder’s daughter smile on her face and opened the door.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lockwood.”

“Good morning, Elena,” the woman greeted her with an equally bright and presumably equally false smile. “I’m so glad I caught you at home, I’m hoping you can help me with the Founder’s Council heritage display for the ball.”

“Of course!” Elena enthused, brightening her smile. No time like the present to get started on her and Caroline’s promise to Bonnie. “I’m so excited to see how we can maintain traditions and respect our history while showing the growth of Mystic Falls into a town where reminders of the more shameful parts of our past, such as our unfortunate support for the confederates, are relegated to teaching moments instead of celebratory displays.”

Mrs. Lockwood’s smile faltered for a moment, her mouth opening as if to speak twice before she managed to assume a bright smile of her own. “Well, I’m happy to hear that the newest generation of Founder’s families has such passion for our town.”

Elena bit down on a laugh at the shock and discomfort hidden by Carol’s polite response. “We do! Caroline, Bonnie, and I were just talking last night about our interest in the history of the town and our hopes for future town events.”

“That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Lockwood replied, somewhere between sincerity and wary caution that Elena might continue to poke at uncomfortable subjects. “I would love to discuss this more with you girls, but I actually stopped by to see if we could collect some heirlooms, particularly a lovely watch that belonged to Jonathan Gilbert?”

Pulse jumping, Elena conjured her most innocent look. There was definitely still a council and Carol Lockwood was on it, Elena would bet a good chunk of her trust fund on that fact. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lockwood, when my parents’ died a lot of their things were put in storage. I’m not sure where any of our old Gilbert items are, but I’ll see what I can find before the ball.”

The faintest flicker of disappointment and frustration flashed in Carol Lockwood’s blue eyes before drowning in the southern charm baked into them since birth. “Do let me know if I can be of any help in locating them, we would really love to have that watch to go with all the other heirlooms on display.”

“Oh I couldn’t put you out like that, not when you have so much to do for the ball!” Elena said, weaponizing that same charm back at the older woman. “But let me know if Bonnie, Caroline, and I can help in any way.”

Mrs. Lockwood nodded, apparently out of words to respond to the unexpected turns in their conversation, before managing one last sweet smile. “Thank you, dear. I’ll let you know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with the caterers.”

Elena waved her off, then slumped against the door after closing it behind her, severe lack of sleep balancing the enjoyment of having won that little exchange. When she looked up, Jeremy was staring at her, forehead wrinkled in a frown. “You’re a really good liar.”

A noise somewhere between a hysterical laugh and a furious sob caught in Elena’s throat, more influenced by sleep deprivation and the stress of last night’s events than her brother’s words, however true they were. Maybe the truest fact about her.

“It’s the family legacy,” she told him, once she could speak without letting any other emotions out, then nodded at him. “I wasn’t going to let her take it, I know dad wanted you to have it.”

It burned a little, to call him dad, but whatever secrets lay in her bloodline, Grayson Gilbert had been the only father she’d ever known and she wasn’t going to take that title from him just because of a magical DNA test.

Jeremy managed a smile at that. “Going to tell me all about your vampire secrets now?”

His tone was hard to read, she hadn’t been wrong about lying being a Gilbert trait, and she couldn’t tell if now, after a night of sleep, however short, he believed whatever he had overheard her telling Bonnie and Caroline. “Do you believe me? That vampires are real? That magic is real?”

“I mean, I kind of think you’re crazy. But it explains a lot about our lives and what happened to Vicky and her mom,” he told her, genuine humor in his voice as she made a face. “And I’ve seen the journals,” he continued, tone going blank again. “So sure. Vampires. Does Jenna know?”

Elena shook her head. “No, she doesn’t know anything. About the Gilberts or vampires.” She stopped for a second, frowning. “She might know one thing I haven’t told you, because I just found out myself and I still don’t know how or why it happened?”

Her brother raised a skeptical eyebrow and Elena grimaced, then ripped the bandaid off. “Apparently Uncle John is my biological father. Based on how old I am, I’m guessing I was a highschool baby and that’s why Dad and Mom claimed me as theirs.”

It was Jeremy’s turn to make a choking sound of disbelief and he scrubbed a hand through his hair, staring at her with wide eyes. “Wow. I guess lying really is a Gilbert thing.”

Elena snorted, then walked past him to drop face down on the couch. If this conversation was going to continue, she needed to be prone. “Lying and killing vampires,” she said, voice muffled by the couch. “But at least we have trust funds.”

Jeremy sat on her legs, resisting her brief and futile efforts to buck him off the couch. “You think Jenna knows?”

Craning her head to give him a sullen glare, Elena nodded. “We know she dated John in high school. And her and mom were close, she would have known she wasn’t pregnant.”

“You don’t think she’s your mom, do you? Cause that would be kind of fucked up. Not incest, but like, weird.”

Elena shook her head, her nose brushing against the fabric of the couch in her fervor. “No, it was someone named Isobel. She went to high school with them, but I don’t know anything else.”

She hadn’t had time to find out anything more, not between Matt and Vicky leaving town, school, and now Damon Salvatore. She wanted to find more. Wanted to understand the connection to Katherine, to know if Isobel was still alive. She didn’t know how she felt about the idea of another mother, but she hoped she’d have time to figure it out. Just one pesky murderous vampire to deal with and then maybe they could all have some breathing room.

Wiggling her legs out from under Jeremy’s, Elena sat up, turning to face him with an empty couch cushion between them. “I don’t know how much you heard, but there’s a vampire in town. Damon Salvatore. He attacked Vicky, he killed her mom, and last night he killed Coach Tanner. He’s extremely dangerous and I need you to be careful. Try not to be out at night and don’t invite anyone into the house.”

Jeremy’s expression darkened, anger sharpening the lines of his jaw. “I’m not going to hide while you and your friends go on a girl power rampage. I’m a Gilbert too. And I’m not letting him get away with hurting Vicky.”

“Girl power?” Elena asked in a warning tone, trying to hide the panic she felt at the idea of Jeremy fighting Damon Salvatore, or any other vampire.

“Whatever, Elena,” her brother said, rolling his eyes. “Lecture me about feminism later. You can’t keep me out of this.”

Biting her lip, Elena stared at his stubborn expression. She could keep him out of it. But she’d have to resort to things that would damage their relationship beyond repair. And she couldn’t do it forever. If she said yes, she could keep an eye on him, help him learn and help him stay safe. And, hopefully, still have a brother who might eventually grow out of the teenage, can’t say ‘I love you’ phase.

“Fine. But you have to actually listen to me. You know that because of what I am, I have a lot of experience with vampires. They absolutely can be killed, but that doesn’t mean they’re not incredibly dangerous. So you can help, but you have to be careful and you have to promise to never go after him alone,” she said, her voice low and serious.

His jaw tightened further, stubborn frustration clear in his face before he reluctantly gave a half nod. “Only if you promise the same thing. No solo slaying. You’re the one he’s stalking.”

Elena grimaced, at the reminder and the words, but nodded back. “I won’t go after him alone.” She wouldn’t. But that didn’t mean that Damon wouldn’t find her when she was alone. It could almost be counted on. But if Jeremy hadn’t thought of that, she had no intention of pointing it out and risking this fragile agreement.

Standing up from the couch, she stretched, then walk around it toward the stairs. “I’m going back to bed. See you later, Jer.”

He let out a half-grunt of acknowledgment and she bit back a sigh. Everything would feel better after she’d had more than three hours of sleep.

Even the idea of attending a fancy town ball while there was a murderous vampire on the loose and three people she loved determined to help end him.

Chapter Text

Lockwood Manor was large, imposing, and absolutely gorgeous, all lit up and covered in flowers for the celebration. It felt sometimes as if Mystic Falls’ social calendar didn’t have a season, just a perpetual stream of Founder this, Founding that—less about history than excuses to show off for the wealthy descendants of the founding families. But the part of Elena that was just a girl who loved pretty things and an excuse to dress up had to admit that this particular party was one of her favorites, as it was for her mother. And, she thought smugly, she had the two prettiest girls in town on her arms, so she was definitely winning the night.

Bonnie was stunning in a floral patterned white dress and Caroline shone in a pastel blue and grey strapless number. Elena also went strapless, a red and orange and gold dress her mom had helped her pick out before she died. It was a perfect, if bittersweet, moment of personal history in the midst of a celebration of family and town history.

After greeting the Lockwoods, Elena offering another deeply insincere apology for being unable to find the pocket watch, she and her friends wandered through the historical display to see the other contributions. Carefully framed in a display of the town charter and other historical documents, Elena pointed out the original guest list from 1864, Salvatore brothers included, and Caroline shivered.

“Obviously I believe you about everything and we’ve seen Bonnie’s magic, but that is so creepy,” she whispered, leaning closer to Elena and Bonnie. “I mean immortal hotties sound great in theory, but also, like, is Stefan just perpetually trapped in puberty? Because that has to suck.”

Bonnie snickered and Elena nodded her agreement. Katherine was also perpetually stuck in adolescence and nothing about her ancestor’s memories made Elena wish for the same.

“Plus the whole, Twilight vamp thing of just repeating high school all the time? That sounds miserable. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love that we are the queens of the school and I intend to continue socially and academically dominating until we graduate, but then I never want to go back.”

“Except at reunions, to make sure they know you’re still the queen,” Bonnie added with a teasing smirk when Caroline wound down. The blonde grinned, wrapping her arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders and squeezing.

“To make sure they know we’re still the queens, Bonnie. I could never reunion without you two.”

“Definitely no reunions for people who don’t age,” Elena agreed. “And given how terrifyingly capable teenage Caroline is at event planning, I can’t wait to see what adult you will do for ours.”

Bonnie laughed, nodding her agreement, and Caroline flushed at the praise. “Well, that’s future Caroline’s problem. Now Caroline needs to help you slay a vampire and get the Founder’s Council into the 21st century.”

Elena grinned, ignoring the fear that tugged at her stomach. She wouldn’t doubt her friends abilities. Teenage girls were terrifying. Scratch the surface of even the most sweet, feminine appearing high schooler and you’d find bone-deep rage, endless determination, and a fierce desperation to fight and claw a place for themselves in the world, to find an agency in their identity that society denied them. In any confrontation between a group of teenaged girls and some vampires, Elena’s bet would be on the girls. And her friends? Brilliant, capable, unstoppable. The Salvatore brothers didn’t stand a chance.

Bonnie tugged Caroline over to another display, looking for evidence of Emily Bennett, and Elena scanned the room for the vampire duo.

They were here, lurking somewhere. She’d only caught sight of Stefan so far, standing in the entrance hall and trying to look like he wasn’t watching her, but she doubted Damon was absent. She still didn’t know why he was in Mystic Falls, but given his comment about what the town was capable of, and the vampire purge she knew her ancestor had been a part of, it was highly likely he had a grudge against the founding families. All of them in one place, along with the remnants of his life as a human, would be an irresistible lure.

“Looking for me?” Damon asked, as if he’d read her mind. His voice was low, close enough that she could feel his breath on her bare shoulder, and Elena fought a shudder. Of course he found her the moment she was alone, she should have expected it. She shot a glance at her friends to make sure they hadn’t noticed and then turned to face him, ready for whatever confrontation he was looking to provoke.

He was handsome in a cold, sharp way. But the perfect fit of his suit couldn’t hide the feral intensity of his gaze and Elena found herself unable to see the attraction he’d held for Katherine. The Damon in her memories was far from a saint, clues to his capacity for obsession evident even then, but he’d also been kind, showing genuine care for others beyond himself. She could see nothing of that in him now and she couldn’t hide a shiver, a gesture that drew a satisfied smile from the man looming over her.

Were all who became vampires destined to lose themselves? Would Katerina, even if she hadn’t been pursued by a monster like Klaus, have become as ruthless and detached as Katherine?

Were the other Mikaelson siblings as cruel and brutal as their brother?

Damon took her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor, overpowering her instinctive resistance to his movements. “Let’s continue this conversation in style, shall we, lovely Elena?”

Elena was a founder’s daughter, she had power here. If she made a scene, said he touched her without consent, he would be thrown out. But he could kill and compel and if she involved anyone but herself she was just adding to his target list. So she ignored the way her skin crawled at his touch and her desire to flee back to Bonnie and Caroline’s side and let him take her. Placing her free hand on his shoulder with the barest amount of contact possible, she followed his lead in the dance, only letting her rage shine in her eyes.

“Not going to talk? Tell me what a monster I am, threaten me to get out of your town again,” Damon asked, his tone light and his smile malicious.

Not bothering with words, Elena let out a dismissive scoffing noise.

“Definitely nothing like Katherine. She’d never pass up an opportunity to get someone on her side or deliver the perfect insult,” he mused, blue eyes poring over her face. “How do you have her face and nothing else?”

Bait, and laughably untrue. But he would never understand the links that bound her to Katherine, or to those who came before. Curving her lips into a pleasant if vacant smile, Elena ignored him, fixing her gaze at the empty space above his left shoulder.

She was no Bennet witch, didn’t even have the power of most witches who weren’t of such a powerful family line. But she had centuries of experience to draw on and if there was one thing Traveller magic was good at, it was getting into people’s heads.

Some part of her mind remained aware and observant of the dance, the couples swirling around them, the way Damon’s fingers on her waist were just tight enough that she’d be bruised tomorrow, his voice detailing all the ways she was inferior to her doppelganger. The rest pushed, digging into the thoughts behind the icy blue eyes still cataloging her features. It wasn’t cold there, but hot with chaotic fury, endless impulses flickering in and out—flashes of herself underneath his fangs, of the ballroom painted in blood, of Stefan’s face broken beneath his fists. Lurking behind it all was Katherine, her face contorted in fear as she was dragged away to the church.

Twirling out in a spin, she struggled to stay inside his mind, to not let her reactions show on her face or slow her movement. There was something there—determination, anger deeper and colder than the constant flickering burn, and just a glimpse of a woman who could only be Emily Bennett.

Then it was gone and she was clasped against his chest, head aching as his hands dug into her sides with cruel strength.

“Stay out of my head, little girl,” he hissed, his face so close to hers their lips brushed against each other. “Or I’ll kill a founding family member for every year she’s spent trapped here, starting with your friends.”

The seconds stretched to the breaking point, her pulse pounding in terror as his breath mingled with hers, veins visible beneath his eyes and his expression contorted into merciless fury. Then he was gone, only the bruises on her hips and right hand to show that she hadn’t been dancing alone. Shaking with adrenaline and praying she hadn’t just gotten someone else killed, Elena closed her eyes, uncaring of the spectacle she was making.

What the fuck did you do, Katherine.

If only her doppelganger could hear her, if only the memories went both ways. But they couldn’t, and no matter what Damon Salvatore thought, Katherine had left Mystic Falls behind long ago. How many people would kill before he figured that out?

How many people would he kill when he figured that out?

“Thank you for staying so late.” Carol smiled, the need to project a hostess’ warmth concealing her fear and discomfort with the whole situation. The Sheriff, unsurprisingly, didn’t seem to appreciate her niceties, getting directly to the point.

“Did you get the Gilbert watch?”

Carol shook her head, allowing the tiniest fraction of her frustration to leak into her voice. “She claims it’s packed away in her parent’s things.” She was sure the girl was lying, but those wide doe eyes had been entirely innocent, and she could hardly apply stiffer pressure to the town’s darling victim of the biggest tragedy in years.

“I can get it. Jenna may have avoided me tonight, but she’s easy to persuade. I’ll go to the Gilberts’ tomorrow,” Logan assured them, cocky bravado evident in his posture and his voice, and Carol hid a frown. The Fells might be a founding family, but Logan was not someone she would associate with by choice. If this went on, the council might need some updated membership requirements.

Liz Forbes was again oblivious to the undercurrents and Carol found herself wishing the other woman wasn’t quite so good at her job. “Good. We’re going to need it.”

“Are you sure?” she couldn’t help but ask, still hoping that this was all a false alarm, that the more esoteric parts of their town’s history were still, in fact, history.

The Sheriff dashed her hopes with a firm head shake. “Five bodies all drained of blood? I’m certain.”

Carol’s stomach sank as Logan nodded, his smugness fading into something more serious.

“They’ve come back.”

Chapter Text

Elena rolled over and almost elbowed Bonnie in the face. Catching herself, she swung her arm out and slid off the bed as carefully as she could manage. Bonnie didn’t stir and Caroline, curled up on her friend’s other side, murmured something about goldfish before going silent again. Elena bit down on her laughter, resisting the urge for an always entertaining session of recording Caroline’s various sleep musings, and headed for the bathroom.

If sleepovers were becoming this common, maybe she could convince Jenna to let her use some of her trust fund to buy a Cal King. Queens her friends might be, but a queen sized bed wasn’t quite enough room for the three of them.

After finishing up, she wandered into the hallway, not tired enough to go back to sleep. Maybe a nice quiet morning would help her figure out what the fuck to do about Damon Salvatore’s delusions of chivalry.

Halfway down the stairs, she paused and frowned. Or not. That was coffee she smelled which, while welcome, was highly unusual. Neither Jenna or Jeremy had a habit of waking up before ten AM on a Saturday. At the entrance to the kitchen she stopped in her tracks again, hand rising to her mouth. Oh. Well then.

Clearing her throat with a wide grin, she walked past her aunt and the unknown woman who were making out against the center island. “Coffee smells great!”

The two women jerked apart, a mug went careening off the counter onto the floor, and Jenna let out an impressive string of curses. “Nope. You didn’t hear that. And Jeremy definitely didn’t hear that, right?”

Elena just laughed and shook her head; Jenna was the best aunt a girl could ask for, blood relation or not. “He did not, I believe he’s still sleeping. Are you going to introduce me to your guest?”

Jenna sputtered and her makeout partner stepped forward with a smile, fading red lipstick bright against her warm brown skin. “Emma Tig. I’m the new guidance counselor at your high school.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jenna, who had realized there was broken mug on the floor and was carefully stepping around the pieces of glass to reach the paper towels. “I met your Aunt at the party last night, rescued her from a persistent ex.”

“Persistent scumbag,” Jenna muttered, reaching the paper towels and kneeling down next to the mess.

“Indeed,” Emma said, mouth quirking into a sly grin, and Elena laughed again.

“I’m very happy to meet you, Emma, and glad you rescued Jenna. Her taste in men has always been questionable.”

“Hey!” Jenna said, sounding more offended than her resigned expression implied.

“Uncle John,” Elena said, ignoring the faint tinge of anger at the thought that Jenna knew who he really was to her. Now wasn’t the time and at the end of the day, even if she did know, she couldn’t blame her aunt for not telling her a secret that the family members they both mourned hadn’t bothered to share.

Jenna made a face, standing up with the broken pieces of glass carefully folded in several layers of paper towel “Okay, point made. My taste in women has always been fantastic though.”

“I would have to agree,” Emma said, grinning at Jenna and darting in for a quick kiss while the blonde’s hands were occupied. Jenna flushed bright red and Elena giggled, delighted to see Jenna so happy, and delighted for the many, many hours of teasing ahead.

Emma turned back toward Elena, still grinning. “On Monday morning we will have to pretend this didn’t happen. But until then, how do you feel about french toast? Sleepovers always make me hungry.”

“I love french toast,” Elena told her, and, after having all offers of help rebuffed, took a seat on the stool by the center island with her cup of coffee and watched Emma and Jenna flirt while breakfast was made, her heart warm with happiness for her aunt. Happiness that didn’t flicker until her fingers brushed against Emma’s when the other woman handed her a plate of french toast and magic sparked between their skin.

Emma’s eyes, darker than her own, widened in surprise and her smile faltered for a brief moment. She made sure Elena had the plate safely and then turned her head to look at Jenna. “Why don’t you see if Elena’s friends, or Jeremy, want to join us?”

Jenna nodded and headed for the stairs but pointed at Emma. “This is agreement to use your professional teenager wrangling skills to manage my nephew’s inevitable morning moodiness.”

Emma and Elena both laughed and then waited for Jenna to get out of hearing range in silent agreement. Once Jenna was down the hallway, Emma turned back to Elena, friendly curiousity on her face. “Does your aunt know you’re a witch?”

Elena shook her head. “She doesn’t know anything about the supernatural as far as I know. And I barely count as a witch, but my friend, Bonnie, if she comes down, you’ll sense each other immediately.” Elena hesitated, biting her lip. “Are you really just here to be the guidance counselor?”

Their school definitely needed a new one, Tanner’s reign of terror proved that, but it was hard to trust that another supernatural moving to town wasn’t involved with the Salvatores, or her own history, however much she’d immediately liked Emma.

The other woman’s face softened and she carefully rested her hands up on the counter, open and non-threatening. “The girl who was attacked, it was a vampire wasn’t it? Was she your friend?”

Nodding, Elena resisted the urge to give a verbal acknowledgement or say anything else. She wanted to trust Emma. She liked her, and she liked anyone who could make Jenna so happy, but Damon Salvatore had surfaced all of her well-earned Petrova doppelganger trust issues.

“I’d already interviewed for the position but I’d received other offers and wasn’t sure that small-town Virginia was really where I wanted to live as a bisexual brown woman,” Emma explained, her lips quirking in amusement. “But in discussing the needs of the position, they mentioned the attack on the girl, and when I heard a teacher had been attacked as well I knew I had to take the job. Teenagers have enough to deal with without being attacked by the supernatural, and while my magic has never been particularly oriented toward violence, if I could protect even one student, I knew it would be worth it.”

Elena managed another nod, her throat tight with something too close to unshed tears for her comfort. The idea of an adult wanting to protect children she didn’t even know—it shouldn’t be shocking, but it was. No matter how powerful she knew she and her friends were, they were children, and so were Vicky and Matt, and they shouldn’t be dealing with any of this. But no one had said it out loud before.

“Can you protect Jenna?” Elena asked, her voice so soft Emma had to lean forward, all fear that Emma was an enemy faded into a desperation she’d been hiding from herself. “It was a vampire. It is a vampire. And he’s not done and he has a lot of reasons to go after anyone who knows me.” She looked up, her gaze intent. “I can protect myself, and Jeremy’s learning, but Jenna is alone more than we are and she doesn’t even know there’s something to be afraid of.”

It was quiet for a moment, just the distant sound of voices from upstairs, and then Emma sighed. “As long as I’m here and in her life I will absolutely protect Jenna. But she’s your guardian, Elena, she’s the adult, and she deserves to know about whatever danger you’re in.” She frowned. “You don’t have to tell me anything more and I appreciate how much you’ve told me already. I know we just met and I’ve known Jenna barely longer, but if she and I begin a relationship, as I hope we do, I cannot in good conscience keep this from her.”

Eyes sliding closed against the threatening burn of tears, Elena blew out a heavy breath. “I know. I know she’d be safer if she knew the truth even if I’ve been lying to myself otherwise. I just. How do I even start that conversation? Her life already changed so much when she became our guardian, I don’t want to ruin it again.”

She felt Emma’s hands take her own and gently squeeze. “You didn’t ruin her life, Elena. She loves you and Jeremy, so much. Even while flirting and avoiding an ex and drinking a little too much wine, she talked about you both, how proud she was and how much she wants to do right by you. You just have to let her.”

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Elena opened her eyes and managed a bright smile, squeezing Emma’s hands before letting go. “Thank you.”

Emma just returned her smile and turned back toward the oven as Caroline’s voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs. “I smell french toast!”

The blonde came bouncing into the kitchen with a wide grin and Elena turned in time to see Bonnie’s eyes widen as she came in behind their friend, her gaze moving straight toward Emma before shifting to Elena as she raised an eyebrow. Elena nodded and gave a thumbs up she hoped indicated that she knew Emma had magic and that she was friendly.

Breakfast moved to the table, and Elena enjoyed a warm and peaceful morning with nearly everyone she loved in one place, even Jeremy, whose ‘teenager awake before noon on a Saturday scowl’ was almost entirely erased by french toast and coffee. Afterwards, she managed to silently ask Bonnie and Caroline to wait upstairs and, after they left, Emma kissed Jenna’s cheek then winked at Elena and Jeremy.

“I’m going to let the Gilberts’ handle the cleanup and go use your shower, Jenna.”

“I could join you,” Jenna responded with a suggestive tone, then flushed, and looked at Elena and Jeremy. “You didn’t hear that.”

“Uh, I was actually hoping to talk to you, Jenna?” Elena said. “Just a quick family meeting before Jeremy and I do the dishes.”

“Oh! Of course,” Jenna answered, looking a little surprised before flashing a quick apologetic smile at Emma. “Feel free to use anything you find in the shower, I’ll come up in a bit.”

“Okay,” Emma said, dropping a quick kiss on Jenna’s lips. “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeremy stared at Elena as she waited for Emma to disappear up the stairs and Jenna to turn around and she offered him a tight smile. She maybe should have talked to him first but, it was her secrets she was planning on sharing, and it was really time they broke the Gilbert family tradition of keeping things from their loved ones.

Jenna turned to face them, a faint flush still on her cheeks and a warm look in her eyes and Elena ripped off the bandaid. “Did you know that I was adopted, Aunt Jenna?”

Smile dropping instantly, Jenna paled, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I did. Did your mom tell you? I know she planned to but I never knew if she did before-” Jenna stopped, grief creasing her face and her shoulders slumping. “I didn’t know how to bring it up if she hadn’t. I’m sorry.”

Elena reached across the table, dodging a sticky syrup spill, and took her hand. “It’s okay, Aunt Jenna. I understand. Mom didn’t tell me, I just found out.” She glanced at Jeremy, who looked lost in grief as well and pushed down her own sadness. Someday they’d be able to think of their parents and focus on the good memories, instead of what they’d lost. Until then, she’d do her best to help distract them all from their mourning. “I know my biological dad is Uncle John, but I don’t know how it happened. Do you know?”

“John!” Jenna said, her face slack with shock. “I, I didn’t know that. How did you find out?”

Before Elena could come up with a response, Jenna shook her head. “Never mind, I’ll tell you what I do know. Or, what I was told anyways,” she said with a frown. “Your mom told me that a girl showed up at your dad’s office one night when he was about to leave. A pregnant sixteen-year-old runaway about to give birth. He delivered the baby and gave her a place to stay, but a few days later she disappeared, leaving you behind.” Jenna looked up and met Elena’s gaze before glancing at Jeremy. “Your parents had been struggling to have a child of their own, so they took you in, pretended you were theirs. No one asked questions and your dad was able to produce all the documentation needed.”

She frowned again, looking down at the table in clear thought. “If it was John, that explains how Isobel knew where to go and why she thought they were safe to leave you with, but I don’t know why they wouldn’t tell me? Unless they didn’t know?”

Elena shook her head. “I don’t know. Before now I thought they knew and just kept it secret to protect John and whoever the mother was. But I don’t know why they would lie to you either.”

Unless somehow they knew she would be the doppelganger? But Elena had no idea how they would have known that. She still didn’t know which side of the family she had Petrova blood on. John had to know he was her father. If they’d told Jenna, they’d told John and he would have known who Isobel was. Had he not told his brother that they were adopting their niece? Had he known or did he know what Elena was? Jonathan Gilbert had met Katherine, but Elena hadn’t really explored his journals so she didn’t know if he had a picture or a drawing of any of the suspected vampires. Too many questions and so few people alive who might know the answers.

“How did you know, Elena?” Jenna asked, clearly confused. Jeremy had refocused on the conversation and looked equally curious, and a little wary, clearly guessing at least some of what else Elena might be planning to talk about.

“To answer that question I have to tell you a different secret my parents kept from you, and from me and Jeremy,” Elena said, slow and serious so Jenna would have no doubt about her sincerity. “Magic is real. A lot of things are real. Including vampires, which the Gilberts have been hunting for centuries. A vampire killed Kelly Donovan and might try to hurt our family because of something our ancestors did.”

And because of who she was, but Jenna only needed to deal with so many world-altering revelations at once. Besides, Damon seemed way more angry about whatever had happened in 1864 than he was interested in why exactly she looked like Katherine. That would probably change once he realized Katherine was alive and well and supremely uninterested in him, but for now her Doppelganger status could wait.

Jenna just stared at her, her expression somewhere between shock and disbelief with more than a hint of concern for Elena’s sanity.

“She’s telling the truth, Aunt Jenna,” Jeremy said quietly. “I found Jonathan Gilbert’s journals and a bunch of other stuff in the attic. If she’s crazy, so were a lot of our ancestors and a bunch of other people in town.”

Elena shot him a grateful look and then let go of Jenna’s hand to lift her own in the middle of the table. The curse on her ancestors kept them from drawing magic from the land, significantly limiting their power as compared to witches like the Bennets. But they could still use the little bit of personal magic that resided in them as living creatures and magic users and, as a Doppelganger, a potent magical being in its own right, Elena had more personal power than most. Focusing that power, she channeled it into her hand, her fingers lighting up like they were stars instead of flesh and bone.

The light shone brighter than the ceiling lamp, clearly revealing the awe on Jenna’s face and the similar expression on Jeremy’s before he quickly hid it behind a small smirk. Elena folded her fingers into her hand, letting the light gradually dim before snuffing out entirely.

“I am telling the truth, Aunt Jenna. It was a spell that told me who my parents were. But just the names, I didn’t know how it happened or why.” She grimaced. “I think we’re going to have to call Uncle John.”

He’d also probably be helpful in getting rid of Damon, or at least protecting Jenna and Jeremy, if she was right about who carried on the GIlbert legacy, but if he was as hardline as the rest of their ancestors then Stefan wasn’t safe either. Which was another conversation she’d been avoiding and really needed to deal with.

“Do we have to?” Jenna asked, almost a whine as she slumped back in her chair, her eyes still a little wide from Elena’s light show.

“Yes,” Elena said firmly, more to herself than Jenna. She didn’t want to deal with him either, and she really didn’t want to deal with her emotions about who he was to her, but she might as well deal with all the shit she didn’t want to at once. Maturity or something like that. “We can talk more later, but for now, don’t invite anyone in the house, even if you know them. And maybe ask your girlfriend about magic.” Jenna’s eyes widened again and Elena grinned, channeling all her stress into no holds-barred honesty. “Also warn her about John, cause sicking him on someone without warning is mean even if he wasn’t your ex.”

“He barely counts as an ex,” Jenna said, an automatic defense that clearly didn’t engage her brain at all, and then let out an only semi-hysterical laugh. “Right. Okay. Magic is real, vampires are real. I’m going to go have a panic attack on a woman I met last night who apparently knows more about that than I do and is also really good with her mouth.”

“Gross,” Jeremy said, scrunching up his face and Elena tried to hold in her laugh but failed when Jenna left the table without acknowledging Jeremy at all, or telling them they hadn’t heard that.

The laughter was cathartic and she carefully ignored the fact that maybe she was a little hysterical as well. She’d been awake for barely more than an hour and she felt like she’d run an emotional marathon.

“Sorry I didn’t warn you about that, didn’t really plan it,” she told her brother. “Someone pointed out to me that our guardian should really know about the vampire in town.”

“Gonna tell her he’s obsessed with your face?” Jeremy asked, his skeptical smirk firmly back in place and Elena rolled her eyes, waving a hand at the stairs that Jenna had tripped at least twice on before her quiet curses disappeared down the upstairs hallway.

“Sorry I didn’t want to further break our aunt’s brain. I’m going to wash and you’re going to dry and put away. Wipe down the table while I take all the dishes to the sink.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes right back at her but didn’t argue and Elena collected and washed all the dishes in silence, her mind filled with static and the french toast sitting poorly in her stomach despite how delicious it had been. She finished the last dish and left Jeremy to it, almost to the stairs and time to process the morning with her best friends when the doorbell rang.

“Not now,” she muttered, and waved Jeremy off when he turned to look. “You clean, I’ll get rid of whoever it is. The Gilbert-Sommers house is officially closed for the day.”

Summoning a smile and making sure there was no syrup or butter dripped on her shirt, Elena made her way to the door and swung it open. A vaguely familiar and very smug-looking man stood on the other side.

He offered her a smarmy grin and leaned forward, a little too close to her personal space. “Well hello there. Logan Fell, WPKW9. Is Jenna home? We have a lunch date.”

Stress spiking again, fueling her increasingly manic mood, Elena decided to indulge her spiteful side. “Sorry Logan, she’s in the shower with her girlfriend so I’m guessing the lunch date is canceled. Have a great day!”

She closed the door in his face before he’d finished sputtering and then leaned against it in absolute exhaustion.

Fuck. The council hadn’t given up.

Chapter Text

Elena was still leaning against the door when Jeremy came out of the kitchen, less exhausted and more lost in circuitous thought. Her brother frowned and folded his arms across his chest, taking in her expression.

“Another unknown relative? Vampire? Door to door salesman?”

“Ha,” Elena said, in a completely flat tone, then pushed herself off the door and walked up to him. “Do you have the watch on you?”

His frown deepened. “Yeah, why?”

“Let me see it.” Jeremy didn’t move and Elena rolled her eyes. “I’ll give it back. I already told you I know dad wanted you to have it and I’m trying to keep it that way.”

He grumbled, but reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out the pocket watch. Elena took it from him and closed her eyes, drawing on her magic and weaving it into an invisible cocoon around the metal. She knew it worked when Jeremy started swearing. Pushing it back into his hands to forestall an argument, she managed an actual grin.

“It’s not gone, just invisible. There’s a secret council of founding family members that thinks the watch can identify vampires. They’re only kind of right, but I’d rather they not have it.”

“Fuck,” Jeremy muttered, eyes a little too wide as he stared down at his seemingly empty hands. “When did our lives get so weird?”

Elena shrugged. “I was born weird. So were you, really. Secret vampire hunting lineage and all.”

Her brother made a face, then rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m going back to bed, try not to start any blood feuds or learn any more traumatizing family secrets for at least one day.”

A genuine laugh burst out of Elena and she grinned at him. “I make no promises. Sleep tight!”

Jeremy narrowed his eyes at her, not quite able to hide the slight quirking of his lips before he flipped her off and headed for the stairs.

“You’re welcome for protecting the watch!” she called after him, then snorted when he just flipped her off again. Sibling love at its finest.

Glancing back at the door to confirm she’d locked it, she followed her brother up the stairs. Bonnie and Caroline probably had a bunch of questions, assuming they hadn’t also fallen back asleep, and they needed to figure out what to do about Damon now that Elena knew why he was in town. No rest for the beleaguered by vampires.

“Is Emma a witch?” Bonnie asked her as soon as Elena walked into her bedroom, eyes wide with excitement.

Elena nodded, flopping down on the bed next to them, half in Caroline’s lap. “Yup. We didn’t get to talk long but I’m sure we’ll have meetings with her at school so you can talk to her about it.” She grinned, thinking of the look on Jenna’s face when Emma kissed her. “And probably around here if Jenna doesn’t freak too much about the magic thing. They’re very cute together.”

Bonnie nodded, clearly thrilled at the thought of speaking to another witch, but Caroline let out a long suffering sigh, curving so she was draped on Bonnie’s shoulder, linking all of them together. “I’m happy for Jenna but it is depressing that she now has a more successful love life than us. Her being kind of a disaster always made me feel better about the tragic lack of makeouts in my life right now. Like, I’m a gorgeous, almost seventeen-year-old girl with beautiful, amazing friends who are the top of the social pyramid and yet I haven’t gone on a date since that awful triple-date right before you broke up with Matt.”

Reaching out a hand to Bonnie to complete the circle, Elena looked up at Caroline from where her head rested against the other girl’s hip bone. “Add it to the list. Kill Damon Salvatore, talk to Uncle-Dad John, support Bonnie’s awesome witchcraft journey, and get Caroline a makeout buddy.”

“And me!” Bonnie exclaimed, lacing her fingers through Elena’s and squeezing. “I also want a makeout buddy. Also I’m vetoing calling John Uncle-Dad, no matter how accurate.” She full body shuddered and Elena and Caroline laughed.

“But I really want to see the look on his face when I call him that,” Elena said earnestly. “Bad enough finding out I’m more closely related to him, I have to get some enjoyment out of my complex parental trauma.”

“If you must,” Bonnie declared, dramatically holding her other hand up to her forehead like some fainting heroine. “But only if I’m there too. Or you report back in detail if you don’t want witnesses.”

Elena made a face. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about him at all. He was always just the asshole uncle we were happy to have miss holidays even when it made dad sad. And Jenna didn’t know he was my dad so like, did my parents even know? They had so many secrets but I never told them what I knew either,” she trailed off, grief tightening her throat. She missed them so much. She was moving on, she was, and in some ways she was grateful for all the chaos the Salvatores had brought because it distracted her when she needed it most, as guilty as that made her feel. But she wished they were here to talk to about this, that she wasn’t learning these secrets without them here to explain, to fight and to forgive.

Bonnie laid down next to her and Caroline stroked her hair, silent affection and support for her grief. Elena closed her eyes, tears breaking free at how much she loved them, how lucky she was, in so many ways.

After long minutes of quiet cuddling, she took a deep breath and wiped her face. “Okay, let’s go. You have more lessons with Grams today, Bonnie. Caroline and I can make plans and then make us all lunch so we can all talk after. Grams won’t mind us using her kitchen, right?”

“Nah. You’re definitely the one of us she trusts most in the kitchen, I did not inherit that gene.” Bonnie grinned. “Apparently I’m really good with fire though, so maybe that’s why I burn everything.”

“I bet you make a good flambéed vampire,” Caroline said with a bloodthirsty smile and Elena snorted, the sharpness of her grief fading back to manageable levels.

“We always did love a bonfire party, although the guest list should be small for this one.” Both of her friends nodded, eyes bright and ready for murder.

Bonnie frowned as they untangled themselves and got off the bed, getting their things together. “Is Stefan on the list? He hasn’t been trying to talk to you lately.”

Tucking her latest sketchpad into a bag for note-taking, Elena shook her head. “I don’t think so. All the deaths are Damon that I know of. Although John will make that hard I think. My ancestors were pretty hardline about all vampires deserving to die, and not being fans of magic either,” she said, giving Bonnie a warning look. “I don’t think they’re right, but, if Stefan objects to us killing Damon we might not have a choice.”

She really should talk to him. He was a doppelganger too, though she doubted he knew that given his apparent cluelessness about Katherine and herself. She didn’t expect his help with killing his brother, but she did want him to stay out of the way. And she definitely didn’t want him joining in on whatever plan Damon had for “rescuing” Katherine, assuming he wasn’t already involved.

Bundling into Bonnie’s car, they headed for her Grams house. Bonnie disappeared into the living room for more witch lessons and Caroline and Elena took over the kitchen table with homework and increasingly disorganized lists and notes about the Damon problem.

“Damon clearly believes that Katherine is trapped here somehow. He’s wrong, but, why does he think that? Jonathan Gilbert believed all the vampires died in the fire. And if he was wrong, and they didn’t all die, being buried wouldn’t keep a vampire trapped. Also it would be really easy for Damon to have just dug up the supposed graves and see she’s not there so something else is going on. Or at least he believes something else is going on.” Elena thought out loud, forehead wrinkled into a scowl as she sliced vegetables and cheese for sandwiches.

“I mean, he could just be mentally unwell. Nothing he’s done so far screams ‘I am a stable, strategic person with a plan,’” Caroline offered as she reached out and stole a piece of cheese.

“Definitely not stable but I think he has some sort of plan and it can’t be good,” Elena responded with a sigh. If he was that unstable, given how much he clearly hated the people in Mystic Falls, there would be a lot more dead bodies besides Kelly, Mr. Tanner, and a couple random campers. And none of the deaths so far were from founding families, who he had a known grudge against. And there was nothing helpful in her memories from Katherine. She had seen glimpses of the Salvatore brothers' lives before death, and some of Stefan since, but none of the transition itself or the night of the massacre that Katherine had clearly escaped from.

“Maybe Grams will know more,” Caroline said, trying to steal another piece of cheese but foiled by Elena yanking the tray back so she could start assembling the sandwiches.

“I know a lot of things,” Sheila Bennett said with a smile, leading Bonnie into the kitchen. “But sandwiches first, thank you, Elena.”

The table was cleared and lunch was enjoyed with no talk of vampires or any other difficult topics, thanks to Grams’ strict rules about meals as a time of replenishment and rest. After they’d finished eating and cleaned up, it was Sheila who started the conversation, instead of Elena or Caroline, and it wasn’t about Damon Salvatore.

“You are a wonderful student, my Bonnie, and you and your friends have proven far stronger and more knowledgeable than I expected at this age,” Sheila said quietly, something sad twisting her smile as she looked at Bonnie from across the table, Elena and Caroline on either side of her. “I’ve been privileged to teach you our family secrets and legacy, but there’s a more recent secret I can no longer in good conscience keep from you.”

Bonnie nodded, eyes wide, and a pit settled in Elena’s stomach. She had no idea what this secret could be and that was terrifying. As was the grim look on Sheila’s face and the fact that she hadn’t told Bonnie privately. Either her and Caroline were involved, or she thought Bonnie would need extra support.

“Abby and Miranda, your mothers,” Grams said, waving a hand at Bonnie and Elena, “were also best friends.” This fact that Elena had either never known or forgotten, couldn’t be processed before Grams revealed the true secret with brutally simple words. “Fourteen years ago, a vampire tried to take you, Elena, while the two of you were having a playdate with your mothers.”

Elena’s mouth fell open and she grabbed Bonnie’s hand, squeezing reflexively. Someone had come for her before? Was it random? It couldn’t be random, could it? She looked at her best friend, eyes wide, and in the horror on Bonnie’s face realized what fourteen years ago truly meant. Abby.

Sheila took a fortifying breath, grief weighing down her features. “Abby used her magic to lead the vampire away. I don’t know what she did, but he never came back. And neither did she.”

A keening noise escaped Bonnie’s throat and both Elena and Caroline immediately turned to wrap their arms around her, holding their friend tight as sobs shook her body.

“I thought, I thought she left me and she’s, she’s dead?” Bonnie burst out, grief and anger sharpening her voice as she glared across the table, tears streaming down her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your father didn’t know, doesn’t know, about our magic, our history. And I,” Sheila’s voice broke. “I can’t feel her magic anymore but she could still live. I had to hope, that she would come back to us someday.”

A long moment of silence followed, broken only by Bonnie’s slowly quieting sobs. When she finally wiped her face and raised her head, her features were tight with anger. “You should have told me. I shouldn’t have grown up thinking my mom didn’t want me, didn’t love me.” She took a deep breath and gently pulled away from Caroline and Elena’s embrace, pushing back her chair to stand. “I need some time before I’ll be ready to learn from you again,” she said, voice quiet and words sharp, before walking out of the room.

Grams bowed her head, her shoulders tight with tension, and Caroline quietly followed Bonnie. Elena hesitated, picking up the bags her friends had left behind and, after a moment, resting a hand on the older woman’s arm. “Thank you, for telling us.” Sheila looked up at her, the harsh lines of grief softening somewhat. “Bonnie will forgive you. When she does, I would love to hear some stories of our mothers, if you’re willing.”

“Of course, Elena. It would be my pleasure.”

Elena squeezed her arm in thanks, and what faint comfort she could offer, then followed her friends out of the room. She had certainly failed Jeremy’s request to avoid learning anymore traumatizing family secrets and wished it wasn’t Bonnie who suffered most from this one.

Chapter Text

Bonnie’s eyes narrowed as Caroline aimed the bow and the tip of the arrow caught alight just as it was released, thudding into the makeshift target and catching it alight. Caroline fired again, and again, each arrow adding to the blaze, until Elena waved her hand to call a halt, seeing that the repeated use of magic was taking a toll on Bonnie.

Days after the reveal of what had happened with her mother, Bonnie was still struggling with her anger and grief. Learning that a vampire was involved had only heightened her desire to kill Damon, and so post school and cheerleading practice had been dedicated to hunting practice as both practical and a violent form of therapy.

“Well isn’t this an interesting little after school club,” a smug and entirely too familiar voice drawled, cutting through the calm silence of the backyard.

Elena turned, stomach churning with a queasy mix of emotions, to see John surveying them, his eyes flicking from Caroline to Bonnie to the flaming target before landing on Elena. He raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t remember this being on the list of extracurricular activities when I attended Mystic Falls High.”

She bared her teeth at him, not evening pretending it was a smile as anger took over. “No, you got to learn vampire hunting with your family instead of having to figure it out yourself, didn’t you Uncle-Dad?”

Caroline snorted and Bonnie let out a sharp laugh as John grimaced. “Send your friends home, Elena, we have a lot to talk about.”

Rolling her eyes, Elena turned to look at her friends, giving John her back. “You can wait upstairs, I’ll be up soon and we can order pizza.”

Caroline looked reluctant but Bonnie nodded, then waved a hand at the target to snuff out the flames with a pointed look at John before taking Caroline’s hand and leading her toward the house. Elena waited for them to make it inside before looking at John again, folding her arms over her chest.

“Did mom and dad know you were the one who knocked up Isobel or did you lie to them too?”

The irritation on John’s face faded into something sadder before he schooled his expression to something irritatingly blank. “They didn’t know. I was fifteen and an idiot and Isobel didn’t want to tell them anything.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “When I realized they were going to keep you I should have said something but I didn’t and now it is entirely too late.” He tilted his head and gave her a long look. “Does that make it easier or harder to hate me?”

Elena scoffed and walked past him toward the house. “I don’t know enough about you to hate you,” she said, calm and cold as she reached the door. She caught the barest of flinches from him and opened the door, waving him toward it. “Jeremy and Jenna know the truth, so let’s get this long overdue Gilbert family meeting started before we lose anyone else.”

John’s jaw tightened as he ground his teeth, but he nodded and walked inside rather than argue. Elena followed, briefly contemplating the pros and cons of fortifying herself with some liquor for the conversation before deciding against it. Jenna shouldn’t have to be the only emotionally competent adult in the room and Elena was the closest they were going to get.

She’d told Jenna more about Damon, that they were all a target, though not about her Doppelganger status. She didn’t plan to mention it to John either, at least not now, curious if he would mention it or if he even knew given that further magical examination of her family tree had revealed that she was connected to Katherine through her biological mother and not the Gilberts.

Jenna was already in the kitchen and Elena waved John in her direction, exchanging a commiserating grimace with her aunt, before going to look for Jeremy. He was in the living room, playing video games, and she dropped onto the couch next to him, watching him shoot his way through virtual enemies on screen for a few minutes before he finally hit pause.

“What?” he asked flatly, not looking away from the screen.

“Uncle-Dad John is here for a super fun family meeting,” Elena told him, grinning as he made a grossed-out face. “Yeah, I know, but, I would appreciate having you for backup. For me and Jenna.”

“You’re my least favorite sister,” Jeremy told her and Elena laughed, feeling a surge of affection that he still called her sister even when giving her shit.

“By default I am also your most favorite sister. Get through this and we’re ordering pizza, you can have a whole one to yourself.”

“Oh goody,” he deadpanned, but set aside the controller and stood up to follow her into the kitchen. They jostled each other’s shoulders rather than let either sibling get through the door first and Elena felt immeasurably better as she ducked under his arm to steal the chair he was aiming for. He huffed and she grinned as he pointedly picked a chair as far from her as possible.

Jenna, locked in a silent staring contest with John, walked around him with as much space as the kitchen allowed before sitting next to Elena, leaving John to take one of the chairs across the table. Face once again carefully blank, he sat across from Elena and raised a mocking eyebrow, clearly intending to let her start the conversation.

“So Uncle-Dad John here never told our parents he was, in fact, Uncle-Dad, so they never knew we were blood related,” she said with cheerful viciousness, feeling only mildly guilty when Jenna joined John in wincing while Jeremy glared poisonous daggers at their uncle. “We hadn’t yet gotten to discussing if he is a vampire hunter in addition to being unemployed and surviving on his trust fund at the age of thirty-three, or if he still has contact with my biological mother,” Elena continued, intently watching John for any reaction to her words.

He met her gaze calmly, emotions carefully controlled, and she in turn didn’t let her disappointment show.

“You definitely inherited that sharp tongue from Isobel, Miranda and Grayson were always too kind for their own good,” he told her, and Elena refused to feel or show any pain.

She knew exactly who she’d gotten her sharp tongue from and yes, in a way that was Isobel, thanks to their common ancestor. “Do tell me more about her, I only know her name, you see, and would love to learn more.”

“Fuck,” Jenna muttered, before he could respond. “I need a drink.” She stood up from the table without another glance at them and moved back into the kitchen, pouring herself a shot of vodka and downing it in one go, then pouring another. Jeremy shifted in his seat and Jenna pointed at him without turning around. “No, you can’t have some. And neither can you, John,” she said, turning around to face them. She looked at Elena for a moment, downed her second shot, then nodded to herself. “You can have one shot, if you want.”

Jeremy made a noise of protest and Elena grinned, letting the sharpness she’d fallen into soften. “That’s okay, Jenna. Maybe later, with the girls. You can invite Emma over and we can have a sleepover and make a family trauma drinking game.”

Jenna laughed, only the faintest edge of hysteria in her voice. “Yeah. That sounds like something Emma would approve of.” She took a deep breath, then marched back toward the table and sat down. “Okay John, start talking and stop antagonizing Elena.” He opened his mouth and she waved a finger in his face. “I don’t care if she started it, you’re the adult and you’re going to fucking act like it for once in your life.”

John’s jaw tightened so much that Elena wondered if he was going to crack a tooth before he very clearly made an effort to swallow his anger, though he apparently couldn’t or didn’t want to control a judgmental glance at the empty shot glass Jenna was still holding. “Of course, Jenna. Where would you like me to start?”

“While I’d love to learn more about vampires and why my sister and my ex thought it was safe for me to know nothing about them, I think you owe it to your daughter to tell her about her mother.”

Elena found Jenna’s free hand under the table and squeezed it, gratitude almost choking her. Jenna squeezed back, not letting go, and Elena held on tight as some tension or anger went out of John and he looked at her, no longer anything but tired.

“Her name is Isobel Flemming,” he said quietly. “She was a year above me in school, beautiful, a cheerleader, incredibly smart. I had no idea why she agreed to date me but she did. I knew she didn’t love me but I didn’t care.” He huffed, some version of a laugh and entirely without humor. “And then she got pregnant and ran away from home when she couldn’t hide it anymore. I gave her money and told her my brother was a doctor and could help her. I didn’t know ahead of time that she wasn’t going to keep you and then she was gone and Grayson and Miranda were forcing your adoption through and that was that.”

“Would you have raised me with her, if she wanted to keep me?” Elena asked quietly. She didn’t know if it was a fair question, couldn’t imagine having a child at fifteen, but she wanted to know. What would her life have looked like if she hadn’t been raised as Grayson and Miranda’s much desired first child but as the accidental child of a pair of teenagers still in high school? Would her parents still be alive if she hadn’t been their daughter?

“Of course I would have, Elena, you’re my daughter,” John said, no hint of hesitation in his voice. His mouth twitched into something smile-adjacent. “I would probably have been terrible at it, certainly not as good as Grayson and Miranda, but don’t ever think I didn’t want you.”

Elena didn’t know what to say to that, to the rare sincerity on his face, to the things it implied about how little she’d seen him growing up. Some new form of grief was welling up inside, a loss she hadn’t let herself imagine since she learned the truth, and she had no words to express it.

In another perfect act of kindness Jenna took over, pulling attention away from Elena. “Do you know where Isobel is now? Have you seen her since?”

John shook his head. “I don’t know where she is now. She never contacted me again and her parents wouldn’t tell me anything.” He looked at Elena, face empty of emotion again. “I don’t think she wanted to be found.”

Elena stared back, unsure if she believed him, and then looked at her aunt. “I changed my mind. I need a shot before we talk vampires.”

Jenna smiled, squeezing her hand again before letting it go and heading back toward the vodka she’d left on the counter. Jeremy didn’t make a sound, something closer to pity than Elena was comfortable with on his face as he looked between her and John.

Nothing else was said until Jenna came back to the table, holding the shot glass out for Elena. She swallowed it, eyes watering as she fidgeted with the empty glass, before forcing a smile on her face. “So. Damon Salvatore, a vampire, is in town killing people. He specifically hates the founding families and has been mildly stalking me. As far as I know he’s the only vampire killing people in town and we obviously want him to stop.”

Jenna slumped back into her chair, more than a little pale at the reminder of the non-family trauma reason they’d called John, while John’s face flickered through several emotions that Elena couldn’t quite read before settling into grim determination.

“Good thing I am, in fact, a vampire hunter, in addition to being an unemployed trust fund brat,” John said, a flicker of real humor in his voice, and Elena couldn’t stop herself from letting out a bark of a laugh at the unexpected phrasing.

“Good thing,” she responded, offering a small but real smile and letting herself relax. She didn’t know how she felt about John or any of his life choices, but she would be glad to have help dealing with Damon. She didn’t want to lose one of her friends, or anyone else, as the cost of killing him and Jenna, Emma, and Grams, were all showing her the value of adults you could trust. Maybe John could earn his place on that list.