The Salvatore Sister

Chapter Six - The Reunion Part II

Stefan...
Sometimes it's impossible to tell if you're dreaming or not. Like when the person you've had a crush on for ages finally tells you the feel the same way and kisses you and you feel like you're dreaming, or when you win money in the lottery or in a raffle and you think only in your dreams do you get so lucky. Or like when your older sister you thought was dead for over a century jumps at you out of nowhere. Or has that only happened to me?
I was ninety-nine, maybe ninety-eight, percent sure I was awake. What made me decide that I was in fact awake was the fact that when...Amelia... had jumped at me, well at Elena, and I'd reached out to stop her we had fallen, and I have to admit the impact hurt like a bitch. When you're dreaming I'm pretty sure you wake up if you get hurt at all, isn't that where the whole "somebody pinch me" saying had come from?
I'd accepted the fact I was awake. But accepting the fact Amelia was still alive would be a whole lot harder. When I thought about it it all added up: they had never recovered Amelia's body, but she was a young girl in a dress probably weighing equal her body weight, she couldn't have gotten that far – and at night as well; I, myself, had definitely seen a girl who resembled Amelia (I'd left out the whole resembling Amelia thing when telling Damon about it) standing at my parent's graves, she must've been visiting them; and lastly, Damon had been thinking and wanting to talk about her, for the first time in decade. Normally I wouldn't be a believer of the whole "twin-telepathy" nonsense, if it wasn't for the fact I grew up with it. Damon and Amelia always seemed to know what the other was thinking, they would finish each other sentences and they would always have these intense shared looks that I always believed they were having a telepathic conversation – to the point I had felt left out as a child. Was it possible that Amelia's return had sparked Damon thinking about her again? I believed more than any God or religion that Amelia and Damon had been connected in some shape or form, I'd witnessed it more than enough times in my childhood.

Mystic Falls, 1855
It was the evening of Damon and Amelia's sixteenth birthday and we had all dressed up in our best clothes and invited all the neighbours round for dinner. A lot of people had turned up to see Amelia; she was the talk of the town, the inaugural Miss Mystic Falls and the equivalent to a princess of Mystic Falls'. Many parents of young men in town wanted their sons to marry Amelia in a few years and wanted her to mother their grandchildren – I know it sounds almost medieval but that's how it was in Mystic Falls in the nineteenth century. Amelia made her way around the guests, socialising and putting on a good show; she was smiling and laughing at peoples' jokes although anyone with eyes could see that she wasn't having anything close to a good time, or maybe it was just me who noticed.
An eight year old version of me was sitting in a corner of the room, watching the festivities from a distance, extremely uninterested. I was watching my older brother, Damon with an almost jealous stare – Damon was surrounded by no less than six local girls who were all swooning and giggling at everything that came out of my brothers' mouth. I wasn't jealous of the fact my brother was surrounded by girls – I was still at the age I thought girls (other than my mom and sister) had a disease - I was jealous of the fact people were actually paying attention to him, even if it was disease-ridden girls paying him attention. Damon was in the middle of relaying a funny thing that had happened to him when his expression suddenly changed, my eyes followed his line of sight to see my older sister standing with two village boys at the opposite end of the room. One of the boys I recognised as Julien Lockwood (he was forever hanging about our house talking to Amelia) and the other I think was called Patrick or Paul or something simple like that. Damon and Amelia were staring at each other with that intense look I'd seen loads of times – at that age I thought that whenever I saw that expression it meant my big brother and sister were having a conversation in their minds. The exchanged look only lasted another few seconds until Damon turned back to his group of admirers and said something to them, which resulted in a lot of disappointed and crestfallen faces. Dragging their feet behind them, with their tails between their legs, all the girls wandered off somewhere, looking back at Damon with wistful glances. Two seconds later, Amelia did the same with the two boys, or should I saw men, and they both left her alone. There was another shared look between the twins then they both headed for the same door then left together off to do something that twins do. I watched on with a look on my face I knew was confused. Had they really just had a conversation in their minds? I could only wonder.
Mystic Falls, Present Day
"Who was that Stefan?" Elena brought me out of my memories, and the way her tone sounded made me believe it wasn't the first time she'd asked me.
"Are you alright?" I asked her, placing my hands on her cheeks and studying her face, ignoring her question.
"I'm fine," she said, "Answer my question, Stefan. Was she one of the tomb vampires?"
Dropping my hands from her face I weighed my options in my mind. I could admit to Elena that that was my older sister who also happened to be Damon's twin sister, the older sister I had never mentioned before and she had no clue had ever existed, the same sister we'd all believed had died at a young age but now I was pretty sure was living as a vampire. Or I could feign ignorance and pretend she is another one of the tomb vampires, but that would include lying to Elena, something I hated to do. But that was a much easier option than having to explain all about Amelia when I was still so confused and unwilling to accept it myself.
The whole deliberation took me less than a second when I made up my mind and said, "She must've been one of the tomb vampires, I didn't recognise her."
I must be a damn better liar than I thought because Elena's accusing glare quickly turned scared and I reached out for her hand to somehow soothe her.
"What're we going to do then?" she asked, obviously trying to keep the desperation and fear out of her voice.
"We're not going to do anything, I don't want you involved," I warned her.
"'You don't want me involved'?" she repeated in almost disbelief, "That ship sailed long ago, Stefan."
I sighed and gripped the bridge of my nose, "I know, I know. And I'm sorry for that, I really am. But I don't want you involved with Am- this tomb vampire."
I really hoped she didn't notice my slip in almost saying Amelia's name. The saying went: "what she doesn't know won't hurt her", and as much as it hurt me to consider, I hadn't seen Amelia in well over a century, I didn't know how she was in her vampire life, she could hurt Elena, and I would not let that happen.
"I know, Stefan," she said, and I almost sighed in relief that she didn't notice my slip, "But we – or you – have to do something. That tomb vampire, whoever she is, could kill people."
"Damon and I will sort everything out, I promise," I told her, taking her into an embrace.
"What do we do now?" she mumbled against my chest.
"I need to talk to Damon," I replied, "And fast."
Damon...
I was stationed outside the Mystic Grill like we had planned – and to be honest it was killing me. I hated standing around waiting while Stefan was in on the action. Alaric was standing beside me looking as calm as ever – just another thing that was fuelling my annoyance. How can he be so patient?
"We should be in there," I grumbled, more to myself than anything.
"No," Alaric replied, "Isobel made it clear we've not to step a foot inside that place."
"I'm not going to kill her in a crowded restaurant," I defended, although the idea was appealing.
"You're not going to kill her, period!" Alaric shot back, a determined look on his face. If I couldn't stand the guy so much I would actually admire him for that.
"She ruined your life and you still want to protect her?" I asked in disbelief.
"She's my wife," Alaric replied.
I gave him a look that clearly conveyed what I was thinking, and Alaric wasn't stupid (I had to admit) he could understand the message.
Sure enough he said, "Was. Was my wife."
There was a few seconds of silence and I stood staring at the door of the Mystic Grill waiting for any sort of signal or activity that would suggest there was a problem.
Alaric obviously didn't like the silence for he said, "I looked for the woman I married but she wasn't there. The woman over there is just cold...and unattached."
"Yeah, she's given up her humanity," I replied, "Does that to you."
"You see, I don't get that," he said, "Stefan has his humanity, he's a good guy. And you're a dick and you kill people but I still see something in you. But with her there was...nothing."
I almost felt sorry for the guy. And remember, I did say almost.
"You can turn it off, like a button you can press," I explained to him, "I mean, Stefan's different. He wants the whole human experience. He wants to feel every episode of 'How I Met Your Mother' so he keeps his feelings there.
"The problem is, as a vampire, your instinct is not to feel. Isobel chose the easier road – no guilt, no shame, no regret. I mean, if you could turn it off would you?" I asked him.
"You haven't," he replied, ignoring my question.
"Of course I have, Ric. That's why I'm so fun to be around," I joked.
At that moment I saw Stefan coming out of the restaurant, supporting an upset-looking Elena. The lovebirds wandered up to us, and Alaric and I walked forward to meet them.
"Is Isobel still in there?" Alaric asked, looking over Stefan's shoulder as if Isobel would randomly appear at the sound of her name.
"No, she left," Elena said.
"We didn't see her leave," I replied.
"Vampire, remember," Elena said in an almost teasing tone, "She obviously noticed you guys standing there and ran off. Like that tomb vampire."
"What tomb vampire?" I almost jumped at her.
"There was this tomb vampire who tried to get at me, Stefan stopped her then she ran out," Elena explained.
Bitch. This tomb vampire I mean, not Elena. The thought of anyone trying to hurt Elena made me see red, this bitch was getting killed.
"Well we kill her," I replied simply.
"No."
My eyebrows shot up and I looked over at Stefan, "No?"
"No," my brother repeated, an odd look on his face.
"Look. Stef," I began, using as patronising a tone as I possibly could, "I'm going to kill this little bitch whether you like it or not. And because suddenly you've decided to join the ranks of Tomb Vamp Army doesn't mean that I'm going to stop killing them."
"I..." Stefan began and seemed to think over his next words carefully, "We need to talk Damon."
"Are you breaking up with me?" I joked.
"Damon, I'm serious."
"When are you ever not serious, Stefan?" I teased him.
"All I'm saying is we need to talk, Damon," Stefan said, "And soon."
"Alright, alright, we can "talk" later, Stef," I told him, "I just have a few things to take care of first."
"You're not going after that... tomb vampire, are you?" Stefan asked, an almost desperation in his voice and in his expression.
My eyebrows shot up in confusion. Was it just me that noticed the hesitation before he said "tomb vampire"? Was our little Stefan hiding something? I knew Stefan had a few more vamp friends than I did – well, okay, I don't have any friends – so was one of them in town again? I pushed all those thoughts to the side and deemed them unimportant for now.
"No, I'm not going after the little bitch just yet," I replied honestly, "I have more important things to busy myself with."
I think it's time I paid Isobel a visit of my own.
Amelia...
My brother is still alive. My brother is still alive. My brother is still alive.
My freaking brother is still freaking alive!
That same sentence was being replayed over and over and over and over and over again in my mind, but no matter how many times I repeated it I didn't feel any happier. I know what you're thinking, 'why isn't she happy? The brother she thought was dead for over a century isn't dead after all, but undead, living as a vampire!" I know I should be happy, everything I had in me wanted to be happy but I was scared, and I was heartbroken. I would never wish vampirism on anyone, and the fact my little brother was condemned to be a vampire forever really hurt me. I wish I could give an explanation to why I ran away from him, but really, I don't have one. It had been a split second thing; I had taken a good look at his face and bolted. No questions asked. Well, until now.
He had grown up so much. Last time I had seen him, he had been eight years old, still possessing all his puppy fat and child innocence. Now (in what I had taken in in our encounter) he was grown up, late teens probably. All his baby fat had vanished leaving a handsome young man. But the thing that had really given him away was his eyes, those forest green eyes of his. I could have been stubborn old me and refused to believe that was my little brother back there, just someone who looked a hell of a lot like him – I could have done that, if I hadn't seen those eyes of his.
I was so ashamed to admit, but the one thought that was dominating over the rest was that if Stefan was somehow alive as a vampire, then maybe Damon was too. Katherine had been with Stefan back in the Mystic Grill – obviously she had changed him like she had with me – and Henry had said that Katherine had had an affair with both my brothers, had she changed Damon too?
My feet seemed to carry me themselves and I'd ended up back in Henry's apartment, and my new place, automatically. I was in shock; I was practically numb with it. My options were running through my mind. I couldn't stay in this place for the rest of my vamp life, and if I spent one more minute just sitting here drowning in my thoughts and worries I would surely go insane – and not the fun kind. Should I find my way back to the Mystic Grill and confront Stefan? Or should I run away again? It's what I do best after all. Everything was adding up now: the lack of Damon and Stefan's graves; the man I had seen at my parents' grave; people thinking I looked like someone. The clues had been screaming at me, they had been staring at me right in the face but I had refused to see them. My brother is still alive.
Out of nowhere my cell phone began to ring and I knew who it was in a second. He's the only person with my number anyway. Can you say desperate? I'd only given him my number about an hour ago, but you've got to give the guy some props, he'd surely just beat the world record of time taken for a guy to phone a girl for a date. With an agitated sigh, I clicked the little green button to answer the phone.
"Hello?"
"Oh, hey, Amelia?" Tyler asked.
"Who else would it be?" I replied.
"Sorry, I know it's a bit soon to be calling and I was going to wait, but I just wanted to make sure you'd given me the right number or – whatever," Tyler explained.
Had I accidentally compelled this idiot? It was possible the way he was acting. I had to admit he was hot so he must have the attention of loads of human females, he wouldn't be the type I would deem as desperate. Unless he hadn't gotten any action in a while and he thought I was going to be an easy fuck. If he was offering blood I was all for it.
"Well, I did give you the right number so you can-" I stopped mid-sentence when an idea suddenly struck me, "Tyler, can I ask you a question?"
There was a short silence and I knew he was once again confused by my sudden change in attitude; he quickly recovered and replied, "Sure. Go ahead."
"Do you, by any chance, know a Stefan Salvatore?"
"Yeah I do, the guy goes to my school, was on the football team for a while," Tyler told me.
"Do you know where he lives?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah, up at the old Salvatore boarding house," he told me, "Why do you want to know?"
Was that jealousy I heard in his tone? He obviously thought I was stopping by Stefan's for something not entirely innocent, I wonder how he would react if I told him that was my brother and he was dirty-minded, desperate bastard? Best not.
"Just going to pop by for a visit, Stefan's an old friend of mine," I told him, "Could you take me there?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course I could," Tyler replied, "Where do you want me to pick you up?"
I gave him the address to Henry's apartment and hung up the phone.
I am so stupid, I've just gave my stalker my address.
I only had to wait about five minutes for Tyler to pull up outside the apartment, grabbing my jacket I headed out the door, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. I really hope Tyler didn't think I was nervous about seeing him. I'm sure you'd be nervous if you were visiting the little brother you thought was dead for over a hundred years – quite a normal reaction. I climbed into the passenger seat of Tyler's car after he had opened the door for me. Some chicks dig that, they find it romantic. Whereas I consider it a pain in the ass, I'm sure I could manage to open the car door myself.
"I can open a car door you know," I voiced my thoughts.
"Just proving chivalry isn't dead," he replied, staring up the engine.
"Well, it should be," I muttered, turning slightly away from Tyler to look out the window.
"So, uh- where did you meet Stefan?" Tyler asked, obviously trying some attempt at small talk.
"I can't remember," I told him.
"That long ago, huh?" he asked.
"Quite a while ago, yeah."
"Are you going to be going to school here?" he asked, pushing the conversation.
"No."
"Why not?" Tyler replied, confusion lacing his tone.
"I don't go to school," I said bluntly.
"That's cool – I guess," he said, "Have you left? Or do you get homeschooled? I mean, no offense or anything, but you don't look old enough to have graduated."
"I just...don't go," I replied.
Tyler looked over at me with a weird expression on his face but seemed to accept my answer. After that he gave up all attempts to start any sort of intelligent conversation for which I was grateful. We sat in a semi-comfortable silence the rest of the short drive there and I was nowhere near ready when we pulled up outside a large, mansion-like house.
"This is it," Tyler declared as if it wasn't obvious already.
"Yeah, I figured," I muttered.
I went to open the door but stopped when I noticed that Tyler's door was already opened.
"No, you're not coming in," I told him.
"I can't just leave you here," he said.
"I'll be fine," I replied.
"But-"
I looked straight into his eyes and he seemed confused at first until a dreamy expression took over his face.
"You're not going to come in with me," I told him in a calm voice.
"I'm not going to come in with you," he repeated in a distant voice.
"You're not going to follow me, you're going to leave and go get on with your day. And you've not to tell anyone you brought me here or that you saw me today," I commanded him.
"I'm not going to tell anyone," he murmured.
"Good," I smirked, opened the door of the car and slid out, shutting a tad harder than I'd meant to.
I walked slowly up the path and turned round to watch Tyler reverse out the drive, the same vacant expression still adorning his face. I gave him a two finger salute before turning and continuing my journey up to the front door. I went to knock but stopped, took a deep breath, and brought my fist to the wood in three sharp knocks. I stepped back and rubbed my hands a few times on my jeans again. When there was no answer, I reached for the door knob and was surprised when it opened. I pushed the door open slowly and took a glance into the house then another behind me. With no one round about I took one tentative step and was once again surprised when my foot landed over the threshold – so no living owner of this house then. Another careful step brought me fully into the house and I let myself look around fully. It was a beautiful house, I had to admit, and I could see my little brother living here, as weird as that sounds. I was just admiring some strange, antique looking mug thingy (yes, that's a technical term) when I felt a pair of hands grab me from behind. Lucky for me, my instincts are fast and I can move faster because I spun around and grabbed my attacker and slammed them up against the wall holding onto their throat. I growled lowly and squeezed their throat but stopped when I looked into my eyes. Only they weren't my eyes. Just eyes that looked identically to the ones I adorned so proudly.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
"It- It's impossible," I gasped out, even though now I know it's not.
My attacker kept the same aggressive expression on his face for several seconds longer. He always was slower. But then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No," he muttered over and over again, echoing the exact same thing that had been going through my mind.
I took a deep breath and loosened my hold on his neck, "Hello Damon."