nothing precious, all things sacred~i am a citizen of the planet series~1A/22
title: nothing precious, all things sacred
series title: i am a citizen of the planet
author: eena
rating: R
disclaimer: don’t own them.
spoilers: Season 1, TVD
summary: TVD AU, Tatia Gilbert is still reeling from the deaths of her parents when new boy, the mysterious Stefan Salvatore, blows into town with his older brother not far behind. (Or the Originals are part of the Founding Families, and Eena sets everything upon its head.
notes: to this day, I blame Hannah for encouraging this. Like I need another project (*le sigh*). Also, http://eenaangel.livejournal.com/73537.html is where to go for a bit more info on this AU.
1.01: “Pilot, Part 1”
She wears red lipstick on the first day of school.
It’s a deliberate move, planned days ago. It goes flawlessly with her red and black graphic tee, pulled down past the waistline of her skinny jeans. The buckles on her boots gleam, broadcasting their newly bought status. Hair is curled and tousled to perfection; eyes lined dark with black liner and made sensual with smoky shadow. Silver earrings finish the look.
But it’s the lipstick that’s most important.
It’s like a shield, a defensive tactic. Red lipstick makes it hard to frown. Her lips twitch and quirk and want to be alluring rather than forlorn. Red lipstick is armour, shining steel to reflect what the viewer wants to see, not what the wearer actually feels.
“You’re pathetic,” is Margaret’s opinion, said with all the disdainful disbelief a younger sister can muster.
“Says the fashion disaster,” is her response, dark eyes flitting top the corner of her vanity where she could see Margaret’s reflection, all over-sized hoodie, ratty jeans, and unkempt ponytail like that would stop people from realizing how beautiful she is. And Margaret knows it; it’s all in the protruding of her lower lip and the furrow in her brow. Margaret is all about a lack of effort these days, and it’s a pity because only concentrated effort could make her appear as unattractive as she desired.
It’s the Gilbert curse, one that Tatia herself finds easy to bear.
(There are other things, heavier and more burdensome that she struggles with instead.)
“You know, it doesn’t help,” Tatia finally turns around, moves her hand up and down to indicate Margaret’s outfit. “In fact, advertising it makes it worse. People can’t take a hint; they see you looking all Debbie Downer-slash-hobo chic, and they feel obligated to ask how you’re doing. It makes them feel all big and empathetic, or whatever. No one actually cares for an honest answer; they just want you to stop sulking. They want you to get over it so they can go back to pretending like the world’s okay and life is fair when it’s really not.”
Margaret glares at her, venomous and barely contained. “Better than pretending nothing happened.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Sure, Tatia.”
There’s more she can say, different ways of defending herself, but that’s Jenna coming up the staircase, an undercurrent of hysteria in her frantic dash towards Tatia’s room. Their aunt appears behind Margaret, a hastily-made bun bouncing against the backside of her head. “School! I mean, we have to leave now to make it on time.”
Jenna’s frazzled, sort of unkempt, and really trying her best with her sister’s surviving daughters. She does well, for a former grad student with no parenting experience whatsoever. It’s hard filling someone else’s shoes, and Jenna’s got two sets to fill, so she gets cut a lot of slack. But she’s determined not to need it, to show she can do it, because she, like Margaret and Tatia, remembers how many eyebrows were raised when Jenna was declared to be their legal guardian.
The pressure and the grief build, just like for the girls. So they smile and try to show their gratitude all the while pretending they didn’t hear Jenna crying three nights past because even though she bought all the groceries, purchased all the school supplies, paid the property tax, and took Tatia to her doctor’s appointment, she forgot to pay the phone bill. The phone company didn’t mind a day’s wait in getting their money, but for Jenna it was traumatic.
Margaret thinks they should talk to her about it, one of the only things she’s willing to team up with Tatia these days. However, Tatia tells her to butt out, because people deal with stuff their own way, and Jenna’s gonna figure it out soon anyhow. That last breakdown was the first in a week, way better than the two a day Jenna was having at the start of summer.
“It’s okay, Jenna; we’re ready to go,” Tatia smiles her best smile, can feel the red lipstick going to work straight away. “Sue and Becca should be here soon.”
“Right, because I just have to drive to the junior high,” Jenna exhales and slumps against the door frame just a bit. “Good, I was almost ready to throw you two in the car and chuck pop-tarts at you while backing out of the drive.”
Tatia makes a face. “Pop-tarts? Ew. I’ll stick to my bagel, thanks.”
Jenna smiles, relief taking years off her face instantly. “You look pretty.”
Tatia does a little turn, showing off an hour’s worth of work and Jenna whistles appreciatively, drawing a laugh from the elder Gilbert sister. Margaret just frowns harder, shoulders tight and tense. Jenna’s eyes land on her youngest niece and her smile dims immediately before she nudges Margaret playfully.
“You all ready, Maggie? I mean, Margaret?”
“Yeah,” and its spit out, like a challenge, like Margaret is waiting for Jenna to side with Tatia and treat her to another lecture.
Jenna blinks and her smile stretches a bit too thin. “Great! Now that we have time for breakfast, how about I get started on the bagels while you two get your stuff and meet me in the kitchen?”
“Sounds perfect,” Tatia beams encouragingly at her aunt.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah, you are,” Tatia’s smile disappears in a second and she gives Margaret a pointed glare. “You can’t skip breakfast.”
Margaret straightens her shoulders, draws in a breath, and puffs out her chest like she’s ready to scream. But Jenna puts a tentative hand on her back and a look at their aunt reminds the younger girl that she promised to help Jenna rather than give her extra stress.
“Okay, fine.” But she makes sure to glare at Tatia before stomping off to her room.
Jenna looks at Tatia in poorly constructed optimism. “She’ll come around; she just needs-“
“She blames me,” Tatia shrugs, swallows a lump of tears that won’t do any good. “She’s not totally wrong.”
“Tatia, no.”
“It’s okay,” Tatia brushes away the concern and picks up her bag from her bed. “I’m her sister. She can hate me all she wants now; eventually, she’ll have to forgive me.”
Jenna’s smiles is a little watery now. “You’ve grown up a lot, honey.”
Tatia shrugs again. “I didn’t really have a choice, did I?”
~0~
Becca starts her day off the usual way-bad.
A nearly sleepless night means bags under the eyes that take time to cover up, which means she has to get up earlier than usual. She thinks that setting the alarm with this in mind is a sign she should probably do something about her nightmares. But then she remembers that she’s living her own life, not someone else’s life of leisure.
She’s always the first to shower, because she knows how quick the hot water goes. Then she wakes up Sue, because the girl is thirteen now and appreciates the value of an early shower. With wet hair and her robe tied tight at her waist, she heads downstairs to start the coffee and to wake up the sheriff along the way. It’s then she gets her alone time, time to dress, dry, style, and get picture perfect ready for the day.
Nick gets up sometime during this ritual and meanders into the boys’ bathroom while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He’s out of the shower by the time Sue comes to collect the hair dryer. He helps her pick the lock on Kole’s door and laughs at her first fifteen attempts to wake her waste-of-space twin brother before physically yanking Kole out of bed. She beats it to the hallway when the two apes begin to wrestle and, sure enough, Sue’s at Rick’s door. She’s tapping lightly on the door, trying to gently coax their disgruntled, surly brother awake. Rick never gets up without a screaming match, and Becca has to oblige him because if she doesn’t, the sheriff will. Things always get uglier a lot quicker when Michael Forbes gets involved.
She comes into the kitchen with a sore throat and the start of a migraine, Sue dogging her heels. Becca’s not surprised to find Finn at the stove, chatting with the sheriff who’s sipping coffee and reading the newspaper at the table. Both are already in uniform by this point, Finn in the process of putting bacon in one skillet while also scrambling eggs in another.
“Morning,” Becca chirps as Sue skips over to first kiss the sheriff on the cheek before going over to offer Finn the same.
“Morning girls,” the sheriff smiles affectionately at his daughters, and Becca’s not swayed by this semblance of serenity. The morning’s still young.
Sue’s onto making toast and Becca begins to pull out plates. Hard thuds and muffled shouts continue to drift down from the second floor and by the time Becca puts a plate of food in front of him, the sheriff’s abandoned his newspaper to glare at the ceiling.
“Animals make less noise,” he growls and Becca tries to focus him on his breakfast so as to delay the inevitable meltdown.
“I don’t know why you even bother keeping an apartment,” Sue prattles on to Finn, scuttling out of the way when he makes to ruffle her hair. “You just have to get up earlier so you can get here by breakfast time. You should just move back in already.”
“A man needs his own space, Curly Sue,” Finn feints to the left and manages to get a hand on Sue’s hair. Becca giggles while the younger girl squawks and slaps at the hand responsible for ruining her morning’s work.
“How much personal space can you get in an apartment you never sleep in?” Rick stalks into the kitchen, ignores Becca’s warning look and the way his father glares at his scruffy jeans and oversized shirt. “You spend your nights at your dirty, little not-secret’s house anyway.”
“Henrik!” the sheriff slams a hand down on the table. Sue suddenly finds her shoes very interesting and Becca looks helplessly at Finn. Rick all out ignores their father, grabs his jacket, and storms out of the house, deliberately ignoring Sue’s attempt at pushing toast into his hands. The sheriff moves to follow him out the house, but Becca slides in quickly to refill his coffee mug.
“I’ll talk to him,” she promises quickly, pleads with her eyes. The sheriff switches his glare from the shut front door to her, and it takes a few tense seconds before he softens and nods.
“He’s getting out of hand,” the sheriff grumbles into his coffee, and Becca knows that Rick hasn’t been in hand for almost a year now, but she says nothing.
“Did our little ray of sunshine depart already?” Kole stomps his way down the stairs, Nick very close behind. Her twin offers the sheriff a mock salute in greeting and picks Sue up by the waist and spins her around (much to their sister’s delight) before grabbing the plate Finn offers him. “Ah, compliments to the chef. You know, when you first moved out, there were those really scary two days when I had to eat Becca’s cooking. I’m glad that part of my life is over.”
Sue has the audacity to laugh, even though Becca’s explained many times that in this house, the girls had to stick together. She gives her sister a disappointed look even as she tosses at dish towel in Kole’s laughing face. Nick’s pouring a coffee, but she can see his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“Nick, you’re supposed to stick up for me,” she reminds him.
“There’s a difference between you and your cooking,” Nick turns and smirks over the rim of his mug. “I have to defend you, you’re my sister. But I’m pretty sure your cooking has it out for me, so I’m leaving it to fend for itself.”
“What’s that?”
And it’s like the kitchen comes to stand still. Even worse than with the previous bout with Rick, the tension in the room is suffocating. Becca clenches her hands into tight fists, tries to shake her head discreetly at her brother, but Nick’s already locked gazes with the sheriff. It wouldn’t be too long now.
“What is it today, sir?” Nick draws out the title, making it flippant and disrespectful with the roll of his tongue.
The sheriff uses his fork and points squarely at Nick’s chest. “What are those necklaces doing around your neck? And why is your brother wearing a bracelet? I was under the impression I had only two daughters, not four.”
“It’s fashion, Dad,” Kole does this on purpose, because riling up the sheriff is a favourite pastime of his.
“’Fashion’?”
“Come off it, sir; they’re chains, and a lot of guys wear-“
“You are not a lot of guys; you’re Forbes men, at least, you’re supposed to be,” the sheriff throws his napkin onto his plate in disgust. “When are you two going to learn-“
“That we should get military buzz cuts and go to school in uniform?” Nick finishes for him, and that’s it. Sue’s already hiding half behind Kole, nose pressed against his shirt to hide the glint of tears in her eyes. Finn’s wiping his hands and reaching for his keys, trying to intercept brother and father before they collide. That’s the thing about Finn, he always tries.
They lose one coffee mug in the ensuing chaos of raised voices and pointing fingers. Nick tries to storm off like Rick had done earlier, but Becca clutches his arm and begs for peace, but the sheriff’s really the one to convince. Finn manages to bundle their raging father out the door without too much damage, though the sheriff promises they would finish this later on at night.
“He’d have to come home on time for that,” Kole says drily in the awkward silence after. And Becca wants to snap at him for being an idiot, but he’s already focused on wiping away Sue’s tears and hugging everything better. So she turns to Nick, hands on her hips and a reprimand on her tongue that fades away in the heat of his glare.
“Only for you guys,” he mutters, and she knows he means it and that scares her. Nick grabs his keys and Kole’s collar and that’s the third time this morning the door slams shut. Becca’s left standing in the kitchen, Sue shifting nervously from foot to foot behind her.
Becca sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Don’t touch the shards, they’re too sharp. I’ll pick up the mess, just go get the mop.”
Her and Sue are always the last to leave the house on school days, because no one else in the family wants to do the clean-up.
“I miss Elijah,” Sue says into the melancholic silence, pouting as she mops up the spilt coffee.
Becca snorts, unladylike, and throws the remains of the mug into the trash. “Me too, Curly Sue.”
~0~
Meredith should have known better, but sometimes she lets her fool heart hope anyway.
And she’s kicking herself for it when the car comes to a stop two blocks away from school. She turns and looks at the driver, trying to keep her expression calm but inquisitive, instead of suspicious and bitchy. “What’s wrong?”
Greg Lockwood is heinously handsome, has been for years now. He turns in his seat and gives her that smile that never fails to make her knees knock together. “I wouldn’t ask, babe, but that ditz Tina Fell is being escorted to school by her brother. If she sees us come together, or even hears of it, half the town and my parents will know by third period-and that’s being charitable.”
So her heart breaks, shatters really, and she’s an idiot because she knew that this would happen when he offered to drop her off yesterday. “You know, I could have just gotten a ride with Becca and Tatia. I mean, I appreciate all the risks you take for my sake, but you could have been seen in front of my house by some long removed relatives of the Fell family, or something. And I know that as a Lockwood, your reputation is everything. I wouldn’t want you to tarnish it by being seen in the company of a trashy girl like myself.”
Greg loses his smile in a second, rolls his eyes, and heaves a sigh like she’s the one kicking him out of the car. “Babe-“
“I mean, at least Tatia and Becca are comfortable enough with who they are to be seen with a non-Founder like myself. And they would have taken me all the way to school. So the next time you want to try for sweet, just don’t, because it’s pathetically insincere and you’re shit at acting like you actually care.”
Greg reaches for her hand and she yanks it out of reach. Meredith shoves the door open and scrambles out as fast as she can, sensing Greg stretching out from the driver’s seat behind her. “Babe!”
“And I’ve told you fifty million times, don’t call me ‘babe’!”
She slams the door shut, makes sure to knick the area around the handle with one of her rings before storming off. She knows that Greg’s not the kind of guy to run after a girl, so she doesn’t really expect him to open the door and chase her. But still, hearing him drive away makes her stomach sink, so she slows down her pace and stretches a five minute walk to a ten minute one to get herself under control.
She should just break up with him already. She should give him an ultimatum or two and see how he deals with it. But she’s pretty sure that she knows how he’ll deal with it and maybe it makes her especially stupid, but she doesn’t want to risk losing him forever. And she’s the biggest idiot in Mystic Falls because she’s in love with the mayor’s son, who’s only in lust with her, and there’s never going to be a time when he openly admits to being with her.
The school comes into sight and soon she’s trudging across the front lawn. She waves and nods at a few kids she knows and tries to summon up enough cheer for another school year. After all, she’s got an image to uphold as a member of the cheerleading squad (oh sorry, the ‘spirit’ squad, as they were renamed last year) and Becca would probably be on her case if she isn’t appropriately ‘spirited’ for the day.
She spots her friends right when they pull in, Becca’s red Prius something entirely too obvious to miss. She pulls up a smile from somewhere deep inside, because she knows that Tatia will need it. And honestly, her Greg Lockwood problems were nothing compared to Tatia’s real life problems. If she tells herself that enough, Meredith thinks she might even start to believe it.
“Hey guys!” Meredith does her best to force some enthusiasm into her voice. She sidles up alongside Tatia and slips an arm around the other girl’s waist before giving her a little squeeze. “How are we this unfairly first day of school?”
Tatia smiles softly in thanks, tilts her head just a bit so that her forehead touches Meredith’s, and squeezes back. “Good, ish. I guess. I mean, History with Tanner is nothing to look forward to, but life is full of such terrible ordeals.”
Becca frowns. “Did you walk here?” she asks, blue eyes flitting over to the path Meredith had taken to reach them, looking for something but Meredith couldn’t guess what.
“Took the bus,” Meredith shrugs, struggles to keep a smile on her face and fails for a brief second. “I was up early anyhow, seeing Dad off.”
“How long is he on the road for?” Tatia seems to accept her story, though Becca is still frowning.
“I think two weeks,” Meredith rocks on her heels, anxious by all the scrutiny and not really wanting to carry on this line of conversation. “How’s Maggie?”
“You mean Margaret,” Becca corrects, and all three friends share a smile because Margaret had been perfectly content to be ‘Maggie’ for twelve years, but changed her mind when some brat at the junior high began teasing her about having a baby nickname.
“Maggie and Margaret both still hate me, so,” Tatia shrugs like it’s no big deal, just a bratty little sister. But she leans a little more into Meredith when she says it and Meredith squeezes her a little tighter while Becca alarms her car and takes her place on Tatia’s other side.
“She’ll get over it,” Becca assures her, and Meredith considers taking the keys and shoveling her friends into the car for a well-deserved skip day. But Becca tugs Tatia forward, and Tatia does the same to Meredith, and they enter the school with arms around each other’s waists, just like every other school year.
Becca immediately starts talking about the bonfire party and Meredith does her best to perk up and try to pay attention because she knows instructions are coming. But she also knows that Greg is in the hallway, can hear him being an idiot with his idiot football friends, and she feels like an idiot herself because she so desperately wants him to see her and maybe chase her down.
“Sean’s there, isn’t he?” Tatia whispers, and damn it, Meredith has to look for her friend. And Sean is indeed there, staring blankly at his rowdy teammates, not even flinching when Greg whacks him hard in the shoulder. Greg visibly darkens at his friend’s lack of response and of course that’s the moment when their eyes meet. He pauses, and then his eyes skip over to the back of Tatia’s head, and then he’s scowling. Meredith immediately whips her head around and pulls Tatia even closer, as if that would protect her from the diatribe Greg no doubt just launched upon.
“He’s there,” she murmurs, exchanging a concerned look with Becca when Tatia sighs.
“Sean understands,” Becca’s trying for reassurance, but it’s hard with such a blatant lie. Sean most definitely didn’t understand, had spent much of the summer in a funk that could rival Tatia’s own, but neither of them wanted Tatia to feel guilt over that. Sean had accepted that it was over when Tatia said it was, and maybe Tatia still loved him and maybe she didn’t, but the relationship wasn’t something she felt like she could continue. Tragedy does unpredictable things to people; sometimes it pulls them closer and sometimes it breaks them apart.
Tatia accepts the lie with a disbelieving laugh, short and full of remorse. Becca immediately starts up with one of her pep talks, all about how Tatia has a right to her choice and her feelings, and Meredith kind of tunes her out because she’s heard it more than enough times before. Her mind wanders back to the one thing she’s trying to ignore, and Meredith quickly finds herself in a fantasy of the time she and Greg went for a midnight swim at the Lockwood watering hole.
She shakes herself mentally, blinks away images of Greg in his swim trunks and nothing more than his adorable smile, and tries to refocus on what’s going on with her friends. Becca’s moved on from motivational speeches to her long list of brotherly problems and Tatia’s making sympathetic noises over something to do with Nick and the sheriff. Meredith adds in a mournful cluck of the tongue when it’s appropriate and then immediately fazes out again because family troubles in the Forbes home are never new and always happening.
Meredith lets her eyes travel the hallway, nodding now and then to people she knew, trying hard not to laugh at the shaking freshmen. They pass by the main office and Meredith catches a quick glimpse of a shock of short brown hair and a leather jacket before she slams on the brakes, causing Becca and Tatia to stumble and bump into each other.
“Who’s that?” Meredith asks, ignoring Becca’s grumbling and Tatia’s sarcasm. “He’s new.”
Her friends immediately zero in on the nicely built male specimen standing before the secretary’s desk. Tatia gives a dismissive snort. “How do you know he’s new? You can only see his back.”
“I can tell just from his back. He’s got a hot back the likes I’ve never seen in this school before.”
“He gives good back,” Becca nods, narrowing her eyes for a better look.
Tatia finally gets into the spirit with a tiny shrug. “It’s a nice back. Think the front matches?”
“Back like that?” Meredith waggles her eyebrows and bumps Tatia with her hip. “The front totally complements, I’m sure.”
The bell rings, and the hot back refuses to turn around. Tatia pulls on her sleeve. “Come on, homeroom. We’ll match the front to the back at lunch.”
Meredith snorts, but moves along anyway. “Who needs to wait for lunch?”