Snippet Saturday!
Number the Stars: Damon/Andie, Sometimes it was real
The following are snippets from my fic for het_bigbang. Each are just little bits from the different chapters which have been posted here and there. All of the fics (and there are a ton for every fandom and pairing imaginable) go live on September 30th, so make sure to head over there and check them all out!
Grayson had been coming to Founders’ Hall since he was a baby. His baptismal reception had been held there; he had celebrated holidays with the other Founders’ children in the grand room; he used to hunt Easter eggs on the grounds. One day, when he was old enough, he was going to attend the parties, the dances, and celebrations held in the evenings.
But today he was going to a meeting of the town vampire hunters, and it was taking everything inside of him not to vomit all over the marble floor.
Mayor Lockwood, Sheriff Forbes, and Reverend Fell were already in the conference room with their spouses; Brad, Rich, and Liz Forbes were all seated quietly against the wall, wearing stunned expressions which matched the way Grayson felt inside. Johnathan told him to take a seat, gesturing to the empty chair beside Liz, and Grayson obediently sat, trying to keep his nervousness under wraps.
“How fucking cool is this?” Brad whispered as he stretched across Liz, oblivious to the look of irritation across the blonde girl’s face.
“Awesome,” Grayson lied, swallowing back the lump forming in his throat.
Grayson nearly leapt out of his skin when his mother entered the room, apologizing gracefully as she took a seat beside Mrs. Lockwood; the idea of his mother - a woman who never raised her voice and despised disorder - sitting on the Monster Council was almost too much to take.
“Breathe,” Liz ordered under her breath, her lips barely moving so as not to be noticed by her father, who had started addressing the group.
Grayson’s gaze flicked towards her in confusion. “Huh?”
“You look like you’re going to pass out. Breathe,” she reiterated.
Rich and Brad did not look like they were going to pass out; Grayson had never felt more like a baby.
After almost an hour of discussing a series of animal attacks on the edge of town, Mayor Lockwood excused them, telling them to wait downstairs while they finished business. They filed out of the room, silently descending the stairs, before Grayson’s best friends exploded in excitement.
“We’re going to hunt monsters!” Brad exclaimed, pulling an umbrella out of the stand near the door, brandishing it as a sword. “I’m totally going to kill more vampires than you two!”
“Fuck you,” Rich spat, grabbing his own umbrella, thrusting it crudely towards Brad. “The only way you’re going to kill a vampire is if it chokes on your blood.”
Grayson didn’t say anything, mutely watching as his friends nearly maimed each other with umbrellas. He noticed Liz moving into the other room, and he followed, eager to escape the overzealous declarations of the excellence of their birthrights.
Of all of the Founders’ kids, Grayson knew the least about Liz. There were three Forbes girls: Liz and her younger twin sisters, Lilah and Laura. It was commonly accepted by everyone in Mystic Falls that the Forbes girls were the prettiest in town, but, since Mrs. Forbes died of cancer the year before, Liz had consciously gone out of her way to disguise her beauty. She cut off all her long, blonde hair until it was as short as a boy’s, hid her burgeoning curves beneath shapeless solid colored t-shirts, and never wore makeup the way the other girls did. Kelly Donovan had started calling her “Lezzie Forbes” earlier in the year, and it was a nickname that stuck; Grayson couldn’t remember the last time he had heard someone actually call her by her real name.
They had four classes together at Mystic Falls Middle School; she sat in front of him in every one of those classes, alphabetically bound to each other for their tenure in Mystic Falls, but it never occurred to Grayson to speak to her without a purpose. Everyone knew Liz wasn’t friendly; she didn’t hang out at her locker between classes, never socialized with any of the Founders’, and the only time she ever actually spoke to anyone was when her grade depended upon it. Liz Forbes would not have been Grayson’s first choice for a confidante.
And yet he sat beside her on the couch in the sitting area and could not help but ask, “Do you think this is cool?”
Liz scoffed. “Are you kidding? I keep hoping it’s a really big joke.”
Grayson smiled, his entire body relaxing into the cushions. “I know, right?”
“It’s like a curse,” Liz declared, nose wrinkling as they watched Brad and Rich circle each other, parrying and thrusting wildly. “Just because we’re the oldest, we have to spend the rest of our lives on vampire look-out? Why would anybody want that for their kids?”
He nodded, grateful to Liz for voicing everything he was thinking but felt too treasonous to say aloud.
“All I know is,” Liz continued definitively, “I’ll never bring my kid to one of these meetings.”
It was at that moment Grayson decided Liz Forbes was going to be his friend.
They had been dating six years when Grayson took her to the Gilbert family lake house for a weekend and showed her what was in the closet.
Miranda stood there, taking in the sight of all of those weapons, the stack of journals, and listened as Grayson outlined everything about his family’s legacy, about the legacy of Mystic Falls. At first she waited, hoping this was a joke, and then she saw just how serious Grayson’s face was, how his hands trembled as he offered her one of his ancestor’s journals.
“You really believe this,” she stated as if testing the words, uncertain how the very logical man she loved could possibly think that vampires were real.
“I know it sounds crazy - “
“Because it is crazy,” Miranda cut in, thrusting the journal back at him. “You’re telling me Mystic Falls was overrun by vampires, and the Founders all work together to kill them! You don’t see how I’d think that’s crazy?!”
“I needed you to know though! It’s important you understand what I have to do.”
“Have to do? What are you talking about?”
Grayson ran his fingers through his hair, gesturing to their surroundings. “Now that my dad’s gone, it’s my responsibility, Rand. I have to take his place on the Council; I have to do what every Gilbert has done for the past 130 years.”
“You have to fight vampires?”
“I have to protect the town!” Tears welling in his eyes, he gritted out, “I swore to my dad I would carry on the tradition, and I can’t go back on that, not now.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, her insides twisting painfully.
“Because I want to be with you forever,” Grayson confessed without a moment’s hesitation, “and I don’t want to have to ever keep secrets from you.”
Miranda sighed, walking out of the bedroom and beginning to pace the length of the living room. Grayson followed, standing uneasily near the island in the kitchen, anxiety written all over his face.
“I don’t believe in vampires,” Miranda finally said, pushing her hair back from her face.
“I don’t really either,” Grayson admitted, “but this is still what I have to do.” Swallowing hard, he continued, “I understand if you don’t want a life with this in it - “
“I want a life with you in it,” she interrupted. “I’ve wanted that since we were seventeen, but…You can’t just tell me vampires are real and your family moonlights as vampire hunters and expect me to just shake it off.”
Grayson nodded. “I know you’ll need time. I just needed to tell you.”
Miranda stayed on the couch that night, too scared to go to sleep.
He woke up to the insistent ringing of his phone. Without opening his eyes, Rich fumbled for the receiver before grunting, “What?!”
“Get your ass to this house right now.”
Rich was wide awake at the sound of his father's voice. Benjamin Lockwood did not speak on the phone; he had people who made calls for him, who issued his pronouncements while he attended to more pressing business. Rich had never spoken to his father on the phone, and he had only heard this level of anger in his father's voice once before in his life, the night his father had literally beaten him black and blue for crashing his mother's Mercedes.
“Dad, what - “
“Now, Richard!”
The dial tone told him just how serious his father was. Without even considering the ramifications on his career, Rich dialed the office and told them he would be going to DC today due to a family emergency. Within thirty minutes, he was on the interstate headed towards Mystic Falls.
When he entered the mansion, the first thing he noticed was just how silent it was. It was August, and all of his brothers were at home; usually the moment he crossed the threshold, Mark was there to discuss what was going on in law school or Jake would want to talk baseball or Mason would jump on his back and want to wrestle. This time there was only eerie silence and a sinking sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach.
Rich tried to remind himself that he was a grown man, an adult who did not need to come running just because his father snapped his fingers, but, even at 26, Rich could admit he was still scared of his father.
The moment he entered the living room and caught sight of Carol on the couch, her hands folded in her lap, wearing a dress which was obviously not her own, Rich felt an acute rage overcome his body. He was opening his mouth to curse at her when he noticed his mother had been crying, one of her scalloped, monogrammed handkerchiefs clutched in her grip, and his father was glaring at him as if he was going to rend him limb from limb.
“What's going on?”
“Carol is pregnant,” Cecilia Lockwood stated, the tremble in her voice cutting into Rich's heart.
His head snapped to face his one-night stand, and, even as she demurely murmured, “I tried to tell you,” Rich could see the subtle signs of victory in her eyes. Cecilia had warned all of her sons about the dangers of getting girls pregnant, and Rich was usually fastidious about using a rubber, especially with girls like Carol Harper.
Damn the Gilberts and paying for that open bar.
“How do I even know it's mine?”
Rich didn't think this was a ridiculous question; he didn't really know Carol that well, but he knew enough about her and the company she kept to know she had a reputation comparable to Kelly's. And if Rich had come to his parents instead of Carol with this claim, he had no doubt it would have been the first question out of his mother's mouth.
Instead, he barely had time to see his father's hand flying at his face before Benjamin Lockwood's backhand sent his head snapping to one side. Rich tasted the blood in the corner of his mouth, and he wondered how old he would be before his father stopped thinking it was okay to hit him.
“Do you have no decency at all?” Benjamin growled, shaking him by the sleeve of his shirt.
“Dad - “
“Here is what is going to happen,” Benjamin continued, thinly controlled anger in his voice. “You and Carol are going to announce your engagement at the dinner party your mother and I are throwing tomorrow. Then, in about a month, you're going to elope. You'll move into one of our rental properties until you can find a proper house, and you'll come to work managing the mill.”
“I don't want - “
“I don't care what you want!” Benjamin roared, prompting both Cecilia and Carol to jump. “This is what is happening and this is what you will do!”
By the time he and Carol left the mansion, a ring which had once belonged to some Lockwood ancestor resided on her ring finger, sparkling in the summer sun.
It was the shiniest shackle Richard had ever seen.
sobel slept for six hours after giving birth to their baby, but John couldn't even fathom the idea of closing his eyes, not when he was so drunk on adrenaline he could barely sit still. Miranda left the office to return with diapers, onesies, bottles, and formula, and John watched as she attended to the baby. Grayson had been relatively silent up until then; it was only once he had the baby in his arms that his brother finally spoke.
“Tell me you didn't know that girl was pregnant,” Grayson said softly, staring down into the sleeping face of his newborn niece. “Tell me you didn't know and leave her to deal with this alone.”
“I didn't,” John swore, fiddling with the edge of a receiving blanket. “I swear to God, Gray, if I had known, I would've done something. You know me.”
“I thought I did,” Grayson said, and John flinched at the overwhelming level of dissatisfaction in his big brother's voice. The only thing worse than disappointing Miranda was letting Grayson down, and John felt like a stupid, silly child.
“Grayson - “
“She's a beautiful baby,” he continued, “and perfectly healthy. Isobel must have taken excellent care of herself.” Grayson finally lifted his eyes, locking gazes with John. “You understand what keeping this baby means, don't you? Georgetown and law school are out now; you're going to be lucky to finish night school. You can't get into your trust fund until you're twenty-five, so you're going to need to get a job, which means the only thing you're qualified for is flipping burgers at minimum wage. You don't have any means of affording health insurance and Isobel's only sixteen, so what are you going to do, go on welfare? And let's not forget that now there's a baby who is going to be completely dependent upon you and Isobel for her well-being.”
The baby began to fuss, and suddenly Miranda was there with a bottle, scooping her out of Grayson's arms and attending to his daughter's needs as if she had always done so. John felt anger and frustration so sharp in his chest that it made him want to break everything in the room.
“You don't think I know that?” John spat. “You don't think that's all that's been on my mind since she called me? I'm not a fucking idiot!”
“You knocked up your under-aged summer fling, so that means you're a fucking idiot!” Grayson shouted back, his face clouding with anger.
John swallowed hard, startled. Grayson didn't get angry. Grayson got quiet, took deep breaths, and then logically discussed whatever it was which was irritating him. Never had John heard Grayon raise his voice and he had especially never spoken to John with such rage vibrating in every syllable.
“I'm sorry,” a new voice piped up, and all three of them turned to see Isobel standing in the doorway clutching the doorjamb, her dark hair hanging limply around her very pale face. “I didn't mean to cause any problems.”
“You didn't,” Miranda quickly assured her, crossing the room even as she threw pointed glares at the brothers Gilbert. “Everyone's just really tired. It's been a long night for all of us. Why don't you come sit down and hold your baby?”
John offered up his seat, helping Isobel sink down into the easy chair which sat in the waiting room, and she hissed through her teeth at the pain of the movement. She flicked her blue eyes up beneath her lashes, and John could see it all there: her fear, her pain, her nervousness.
“She's really beautiful, Iz,” he offered, running his fingers through his hair.
“Of course she is,” Isobel stated in the same matter-of-fact way she always spoke, cradling the baby in her arms, accepting the bottle Miranda offered. “Thank god my genes won out.”
Grayson and Miranda chuckled, but John recognized the familiar facade of toughness as Isobel's first line of defense against vulnerability.
There was no such thing as a secret in Mystic Falls, not really. Outside of the bizarre preoccupation with vampires, everything was known by everyone. While smiling to your face, the good citizens of Mystic County would discuss Rich's affairs, Brad's DUIs, Sheri Bennett's drug addiction; once one person knew what had happened, everyone knew and you would have to stand there in all your finery knowing you were the topic of clandestine conversation, the whispered name over the telephone lines.
Liz put on her dress anyway, applied gloss to her lips, and selected a black-and-gold mask.
A fucking masquerade. As if the people of Mystic Falls hadn't perfected wearing masks decades ago.
She suspected it was her own insecurities playing tricks on her, but Liz was almost certain the volume of the room dropped as she entered the Lockwood mansion as she had hundreds of times before, the women whispering as if to confirm that, yes, this was the Forbes girl whose husband left her for another man, the eldest Forbes, the one who hadn't been pretty enough to be Miss Mystic like her sisters, the one who had been so terminally unfriendly.
Immediately Liz was able to determine she was under-dressed compared to her peers. Her black dress was plain and downright conservative next to Miranda's peacock mask and the red dress Carol wore like a second skin. Because her hair was longer than she had worn it since before her mother died, Liz hadn't the slightest idea what to do with it and had left it to hang over her shoulders in natural waves. A quick survey of the room confirmed she was one of the only women who had chosen to wear her hair loose, and Liz hated herself for coming, for allowing her father to convince her she needed to get back out into society.
Liz had spent her entire life trying to avoid Mystic Falls society, and now she remembered why.
She was in the middle of getting a drink when Grayson sidled up beside her. His tie was the same brilliant blue as Miranda's dress, and, as he ordered a scotch, Liz knew something was wrong. Grayson never drank anything harder than the occasional beer or glass of wine; he always said alcohol made people stupid.
“Everyone's talking about me, aren't they?” she asked as the bartender handed her the martini she ordered.
“Fuck them,” Grayson replied, and Liz blinked in surprise at the unnatural slur to his words. Grayson wasn't just drinking; Grayson was drunk.
“Are you okay, Gray?”
He paused as if considering the question before shaking his head, taking a heavy swallow from his glass. Lowering his head, he asked, “Can we get out of here?”
It wasn't the first time he had ever asked her that at a Founders' event; their adolescence was defined by the events they escaped. But it was the first time he had asked since they were adults, since their absences would be noticed.
“You can't leave Miranda,” she gently pointed out. “Why don't we just go for a walk?”
Grayson nodded, grasping her wrist and tugging her towards the French doors which lead to the back of the property. Liz didn't know why he was tugging her along; she could find her way around the grounds with her eyes closed, knew the twists and turns of the acreage better than Rich. But she didn't fight it, not when Grayson was so obviously not himself; instead she let him take her down towards the pond where the fountains sprayed in beautiful patterns.
“Well, I know why I want to escape. Why do you?”
Grayson sighed, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting it drop to the grass. Liz watched in amusement as he sank down onto it, sloshing his drink in the process. She carefully slipped her feet from her heels, kneeling down beside him in the cool, moist grass.
“Have you ever done something so bad, you don't think you'll ever be able to make it right?”
Liz blinked in surprise before admitting, “I feel like I've done a lot of things that probably weren't that great.”
“No, not something minor. I mean, have you ever done anything that you just know ruined someone, killed their spirit?”
Liz shook her head minutely. “What's going on, Gray?”
“It's my fault,” Grayson admitted, the syllables of his words slurring together. “It's my fault he's like this now.”
“Who's like what now?”
“John. I ruined him.”
Liz frowned in confusion. It had been years since she had seen John, not since Jeremy's christening when she and Rich had stood side-by-side and promised to provide spiritual guidance to the baby in her arms; she knew from conversations with Grayson that John had graduated from Richmond, forgoing law school to work for an insurance company, a career move which Grayson hated. Whenever she thought of John, she pictured the little boy who used to crawl into her lap while she was at the Gilbert house, begging her to read him his favorite book or help him with his homework.
“How did you ruin him?”
Grayson lifted his face, and Liz was startled by the sight of tears on his cheeks. “I was so jealous, Lizzie. Even while I was helping, I was so angry because he got to have her and I didn't. And I knew how much it was hurting him, but I took her anyway.”
Liz felt something brewing in her stomach, bile starting to rise in her throat. Certain she was misinterpreting Grayson's words, she asked, “Took who? What did you do, Grayson?”
“Elena,” was all Grayson answered, more tears slipping down his face.
“Elena? What does Elena - “ Liz stopped, the pieces suddenly coming together. “John is Elena's biological father?”
Grayson nodded miserably. “We wanted a baby so bad, Lizzie, and all of a sudden this girl was there, about to give birth to John's baby, and she left, giving us this letter saying how much she wanted us to have Elena. And John, he didn't want to give her away; I could see it in his eyes, but I kept telling him what a good choice it would be, how much we'd love her.”
“Gray - “
“He hates me now, Liz. Every time he looks at me, it's like he's accusing me of stealing his baby. And I did. I wanted that little girl so badly, I didn't care what it would do to him. All I cared about was Miranda and I finally having a baby of our own, and I sacrificed John for that.”
Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Liz squeezed him tightly. “Elena is a wonderful little girl, Gray, and that's because of you and Miranda. John was just a kid. He has to see how amazing Elena is, and if he blames you for that, that's his problem, not yours.”
“John wants her back.”
“What?”
Wiping at his eyes, Grayson explained, “He wanted to take her to the zoo in DC for her birthday, but Miranda said no, that it was too far and she's too young. And this morning John called me, and he was so angry. He just started yelling about how it's bullshit he can't even take his daughter out for her birthday and how the only reason he agreed to the adoption was because we promised he'd be able to be in her life. And then he said he wants to tell Elena, that he's willing to move back here and...and take care of her.”
“Gray - “
“I haven't told Miranda yet,” Grayson continued, his voice trembling. “She was always afraid of this, of him or her coming back to get Elena, and I told her John wouldn't do that. But I don't even know him anymore, Lizzie. It's like he's a stranger with my brother's face.”
Before Liz could say anything, she heard Miranda's voice calling out his name. Grayson lifted his tie, wiping at his cheeks, and Liz carefully got to her feet, waving her hand to show Miranda where they were at; within a minute, Miranda was crossing the yard in her impossibly high heels, concern on her face.
“Is everything okay?” Miranda asked, touching Grayson's face tenderly as she looked questioningly at Liz.
“All the pomp and circumstance, it just brought up memories of his dad,” Liz smoothly lied as Grayson nodded silently in agreement. “We just came to get some air.”
Distrust flitted briefly across Miranda's features before she returned her attention to Grayson. “You want to go home?”
“Yeah, that'd be great.” Trying to feign sobriety as best as he could, Grayson extended an arm and Liz met him halfway, accepting the hug and whispered thanks. “We'll see you later, Lizzie.”
As the Gilberts retreated across the lawn, Liz stared out at the fountains, streams crossing and uncrossing in rhythmic conversion, the water below rippling into the darkness.
“Where are you taking me?” Jenna laughed as she tried not to stumble as Mason drug her by the hand through the woods on the back of his property. The sun hung high in the April sky, a chill still leftover from the rough Virginia winter, and Jenna shivered as she stepped double-time to keep up with Mason's long strides.
“It's a secret,” Mason teased, stopping to help her over a fallen tree.
“You're going to murder me, aren't you? These past two years have all been an elaborate scheme to win my trust, lure me into the woods, and mutilate me, haven't they?”
“You forgot 'rape your corpse.' It's the most important part of my MO.”
“Mase - “
“We're almost there,” he assured her. “And then I have a surprise for you.”
When they reached the staircase which lead down into the earth, Jenna froze, momentarily freaked out. Enclosed spaces had never been her favorite thing, and she saw nothing but darkness. Mason hopped down the first couple of stairs and, when he noticed she was not following, he turned back around, resting his hands on her hips.
“What is this?”
“It's the old slave quarters my parents pretend doesn't exist. I found it a couple of years ago when I was hunting.”
“I don't want to go down there.”
“It's not as bad as it seems.”
Jenna raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Yeah, I'm sure the slaves were just wild about it.”
“Jay, do you really think I'd take you somewhere if it wasn't okay? You trust me, right?”
She trusted Mason with her life; he knew that.
“Okay, so why are we sitting in slave quarters on a Saturday afternoon?”
Mason grinned, reaching into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and pulling out something Jenna only vaguely recognized. “Because it's about the only place in Mystic Falls my parents don't have people who will report back to them about what an awful, delinquent child I am. And you are the person I want to do this with.”
“What exactly are we doing?”
Holding up the baggy in his hand, he smirked. “I swiped this from Jake. I figure it'll make that bullshit dinner we have to go to later bearable. You ever smoked before?”
“Just cigarettes,” she answered, watching as he clumsily lit the joint. The strangely sweet scent of the pot tickled her nose, and she could not help but laugh as Mason coughed as he took his first hit.
“You think you can do better?” he asked, voice raw from coughing. “Let's see it, Sommers.”
She coughed too, the rush of smoke different from the cigarettes she and Kelly shared at her kitchen table, but almost immediately Jenna felt the effects, her body pleasantly warming as she relaxed. Passing it back to Mason, he imitated her inhalation, and soon they were passing it back and forth with ease, laughing as they took turns imitating their mothers, siblings, and teachers.
It became a Saturday ritual, smoking up with Mason in the old slave quarters, leaving the expectations and disappointments of their parents on the surface as they sought shelter beneath the ground.
Ric thought she was a virgin.
It wasn't as if Isobel didn't know where the assumption came from; while they spent an exorbitant amount of time making out, crammed into their tiny single beds while their roommates were out, kissing until their mouths were swollen and sore, until their lips were numb and tongues tasted of the other, it rarely ventured further than that. When Ric would slide his hands beneath her shirt or beneath the band of her panties, Isobel could feel the desire coiling tight within her core, begging to be let out, demanding satisfaction. And, as she'd pump his length, making him moan and twist in her grip, Isobel would decide she was ready only to change her mind the second her back touched the mattress.
“It's okay if you're scared,” Ric assured her one rainy afternoon as they laid on their sides facing each other in his single bed, both of them naked and beneath his covers. Isobel was still trembling in his arms, feeling the aftershocks of panic at the temporary pressure of his cock against her wetness; she felt horribly embarrassed by her reaction, by the unused condom unfurled in his trash can, unneeded and wasted.
“I'm not - “
“It's okay,” he cut in, stroking her hair away from her face, his expression almost unbearably kind. “We don't have to do this right now, Iz. When you're ready, we'll try again. I'd be happy just holding your hand.”
“But you want this,” she whispered, touching his face softly with her fingertips, afraid he'd dissipate like smoke right out of her grasp.
Ric smiled, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “Well, yeah. I'm a nineteen-year-old guy and you're beautiful. But, Iz...I don't want this until you want this. I never want to make you do something you don't want to do. That's not...That's not what I want for us.”
She hated it, how much she wanted to be with him and how terrified it made her. It made her feel broken, like a shell of the girl who had kissed John first, who had taken him up to her room and inside of her body without a single thought beyond, I love you, I want you, I need you to be a part of me. Every time she had slept with John, twisting her hips to find his rhythm, she had never considered the consequences, never considered anything.
It killed her, how all she could now think when Ric touched her was This was how you lost Elena.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be sorry.” He kissed her forehead, her temple. “We have all the time in the world.”
The following are snippets from my fic for het_bigbang. Each are just little bits from the different chapters which have been posted here and there. All of the fics (and there are a ton for every fandom and pairing imaginable) go live on September 30th, so make sure to head over there and check them all out!
Grayson had been coming to Founders’ Hall since he was a baby. His baptismal reception had been held there; he had celebrated holidays with the other Founders’ children in the grand room; he used to hunt Easter eggs on the grounds. One day, when he was old enough, he was going to attend the parties, the dances, and celebrations held in the evenings.
But today he was going to a meeting of the town vampire hunters, and it was taking everything inside of him not to vomit all over the marble floor.
Mayor Lockwood, Sheriff Forbes, and Reverend Fell were already in the conference room with their spouses; Brad, Rich, and Liz Forbes were all seated quietly against the wall, wearing stunned expressions which matched the way Grayson felt inside. Johnathan told him to take a seat, gesturing to the empty chair beside Liz, and Grayson obediently sat, trying to keep his nervousness under wraps.
“How fucking cool is this?” Brad whispered as he stretched across Liz, oblivious to the look of irritation across the blonde girl’s face.
“Awesome,” Grayson lied, swallowing back the lump forming in his throat.
Grayson nearly leapt out of his skin when his mother entered the room, apologizing gracefully as she took a seat beside Mrs. Lockwood; the idea of his mother - a woman who never raised her voice and despised disorder - sitting on the Monster Council was almost too much to take.
“Breathe,” Liz ordered under her breath, her lips barely moving so as not to be noticed by her father, who had started addressing the group.
Grayson’s gaze flicked towards her in confusion. “Huh?”
“You look like you’re going to pass out. Breathe,” she reiterated.
Rich and Brad did not look like they were going to pass out; Grayson had never felt more like a baby.
After almost an hour of discussing a series of animal attacks on the edge of town, Mayor Lockwood excused them, telling them to wait downstairs while they finished business. They filed out of the room, silently descending the stairs, before Grayson’s best friends exploded in excitement.
“We’re going to hunt monsters!” Brad exclaimed, pulling an umbrella out of the stand near the door, brandishing it as a sword. “I’m totally going to kill more vampires than you two!”
“Fuck you,” Rich spat, grabbing his own umbrella, thrusting it crudely towards Brad. “The only way you’re going to kill a vampire is if it chokes on your blood.”
Grayson didn’t say anything, mutely watching as his friends nearly maimed each other with umbrellas. He noticed Liz moving into the other room, and he followed, eager to escape the overzealous declarations of the excellence of their birthrights.
Of all of the Founders’ kids, Grayson knew the least about Liz. There were three Forbes girls: Liz and her younger twin sisters, Lilah and Laura. It was commonly accepted by everyone in Mystic Falls that the Forbes girls were the prettiest in town, but, since Mrs. Forbes died of cancer the year before, Liz had consciously gone out of her way to disguise her beauty. She cut off all her long, blonde hair until it was as short as a boy’s, hid her burgeoning curves beneath shapeless solid colored t-shirts, and never wore makeup the way the other girls did. Kelly Donovan had started calling her “Lezzie Forbes” earlier in the year, and it was a nickname that stuck; Grayson couldn’t remember the last time he had heard someone actually call her by her real name.
They had four classes together at Mystic Falls Middle School; she sat in front of him in every one of those classes, alphabetically bound to each other for their tenure in Mystic Falls, but it never occurred to Grayson to speak to her without a purpose. Everyone knew Liz wasn’t friendly; she didn’t hang out at her locker between classes, never socialized with any of the Founders’, and the only time she ever actually spoke to anyone was when her grade depended upon it. Liz Forbes would not have been Grayson’s first choice for a confidante.
And yet he sat beside her on the couch in the sitting area and could not help but ask, “Do you think this is cool?”
Liz scoffed. “Are you kidding? I keep hoping it’s a really big joke.”
Grayson smiled, his entire body relaxing into the cushions. “I know, right?”
“It’s like a curse,” Liz declared, nose wrinkling as they watched Brad and Rich circle each other, parrying and thrusting wildly. “Just because we’re the oldest, we have to spend the rest of our lives on vampire look-out? Why would anybody want that for their kids?”
He nodded, grateful to Liz for voicing everything he was thinking but felt too treasonous to say aloud.
“All I know is,” Liz continued definitively, “I’ll never bring my kid to one of these meetings.”
It was at that moment Grayson decided Liz Forbes was going to be his friend.
They had been dating six years when Grayson took her to the Gilbert family lake house for a weekend and showed her what was in the closet.
Miranda stood there, taking in the sight of all of those weapons, the stack of journals, and listened as Grayson outlined everything about his family’s legacy, about the legacy of Mystic Falls. At first she waited, hoping this was a joke, and then she saw just how serious Grayson’s face was, how his hands trembled as he offered her one of his ancestor’s journals.
“You really believe this,” she stated as if testing the words, uncertain how the very logical man she loved could possibly think that vampires were real.
“I know it sounds crazy - “
“Because it is crazy,” Miranda cut in, thrusting the journal back at him. “You’re telling me Mystic Falls was overrun by vampires, and the Founders all work together to kill them! You don’t see how I’d think that’s crazy?!”
“I needed you to know though! It’s important you understand what I have to do.”
“Have to do? What are you talking about?”
Grayson ran his fingers through his hair, gesturing to their surroundings. “Now that my dad’s gone, it’s my responsibility, Rand. I have to take his place on the Council; I have to do what every Gilbert has done for the past 130 years.”
“You have to fight vampires?”
“I have to protect the town!” Tears welling in his eyes, he gritted out, “I swore to my dad I would carry on the tradition, and I can’t go back on that, not now.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, her insides twisting painfully.
“Because I want to be with you forever,” Grayson confessed without a moment’s hesitation, “and I don’t want to have to ever keep secrets from you.”
Miranda sighed, walking out of the bedroom and beginning to pace the length of the living room. Grayson followed, standing uneasily near the island in the kitchen, anxiety written all over his face.
“I don’t believe in vampires,” Miranda finally said, pushing her hair back from her face.
“I don’t really either,” Grayson admitted, “but this is still what I have to do.” Swallowing hard, he continued, “I understand if you don’t want a life with this in it - “
“I want a life with you in it,” she interrupted. “I’ve wanted that since we were seventeen, but…You can’t just tell me vampires are real and your family moonlights as vampire hunters and expect me to just shake it off.”
Grayson nodded. “I know you’ll need time. I just needed to tell you.”
Miranda stayed on the couch that night, too scared to go to sleep.
He woke up to the insistent ringing of his phone. Without opening his eyes, Rich fumbled for the receiver before grunting, “What?!”
“Get your ass to this house right now.”
Rich was wide awake at the sound of his father's voice. Benjamin Lockwood did not speak on the phone; he had people who made calls for him, who issued his pronouncements while he attended to more pressing business. Rich had never spoken to his father on the phone, and he had only heard this level of anger in his father's voice once before in his life, the night his father had literally beaten him black and blue for crashing his mother's Mercedes.
“Dad, what - “
“Now, Richard!”
The dial tone told him just how serious his father was. Without even considering the ramifications on his career, Rich dialed the office and told them he would be going to DC today due to a family emergency. Within thirty minutes, he was on the interstate headed towards Mystic Falls.
When he entered the mansion, the first thing he noticed was just how silent it was. It was August, and all of his brothers were at home; usually the moment he crossed the threshold, Mark was there to discuss what was going on in law school or Jake would want to talk baseball or Mason would jump on his back and want to wrestle. This time there was only eerie silence and a sinking sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach.
Rich tried to remind himself that he was a grown man, an adult who did not need to come running just because his father snapped his fingers, but, even at 26, Rich could admit he was still scared of his father.
The moment he entered the living room and caught sight of Carol on the couch, her hands folded in her lap, wearing a dress which was obviously not her own, Rich felt an acute rage overcome his body. He was opening his mouth to curse at her when he noticed his mother had been crying, one of her scalloped, monogrammed handkerchiefs clutched in her grip, and his father was glaring at him as if he was going to rend him limb from limb.
“What's going on?”
“Carol is pregnant,” Cecilia Lockwood stated, the tremble in her voice cutting into Rich's heart.
His head snapped to face his one-night stand, and, even as she demurely murmured, “I tried to tell you,” Rich could see the subtle signs of victory in her eyes. Cecilia had warned all of her sons about the dangers of getting girls pregnant, and Rich was usually fastidious about using a rubber, especially with girls like Carol Harper.
Damn the Gilberts and paying for that open bar.
“How do I even know it's mine?”
Rich didn't think this was a ridiculous question; he didn't really know Carol that well, but he knew enough about her and the company she kept to know she had a reputation comparable to Kelly's. And if Rich had come to his parents instead of Carol with this claim, he had no doubt it would have been the first question out of his mother's mouth.
Instead, he barely had time to see his father's hand flying at his face before Benjamin Lockwood's backhand sent his head snapping to one side. Rich tasted the blood in the corner of his mouth, and he wondered how old he would be before his father stopped thinking it was okay to hit him.
“Do you have no decency at all?” Benjamin growled, shaking him by the sleeve of his shirt.
“Dad - “
“Here is what is going to happen,” Benjamin continued, thinly controlled anger in his voice. “You and Carol are going to announce your engagement at the dinner party your mother and I are throwing tomorrow. Then, in about a month, you're going to elope. You'll move into one of our rental properties until you can find a proper house, and you'll come to work managing the mill.”
“I don't want - “
“I don't care what you want!” Benjamin roared, prompting both Cecilia and Carol to jump. “This is what is happening and this is what you will do!”
By the time he and Carol left the mansion, a ring which had once belonged to some Lockwood ancestor resided on her ring finger, sparkling in the summer sun.
It was the shiniest shackle Richard had ever seen.
sobel slept for six hours after giving birth to their baby, but John couldn't even fathom the idea of closing his eyes, not when he was so drunk on adrenaline he could barely sit still. Miranda left the office to return with diapers, onesies, bottles, and formula, and John watched as she attended to the baby. Grayson had been relatively silent up until then; it was only once he had the baby in his arms that his brother finally spoke.
“Tell me you didn't know that girl was pregnant,” Grayson said softly, staring down into the sleeping face of his newborn niece. “Tell me you didn't know and leave her to deal with this alone.”
“I didn't,” John swore, fiddling with the edge of a receiving blanket. “I swear to God, Gray, if I had known, I would've done something. You know me.”
“I thought I did,” Grayson said, and John flinched at the overwhelming level of dissatisfaction in his big brother's voice. The only thing worse than disappointing Miranda was letting Grayson down, and John felt like a stupid, silly child.
“Grayson - “
“She's a beautiful baby,” he continued, “and perfectly healthy. Isobel must have taken excellent care of herself.” Grayson finally lifted his eyes, locking gazes with John. “You understand what keeping this baby means, don't you? Georgetown and law school are out now; you're going to be lucky to finish night school. You can't get into your trust fund until you're twenty-five, so you're going to need to get a job, which means the only thing you're qualified for is flipping burgers at minimum wage. You don't have any means of affording health insurance and Isobel's only sixteen, so what are you going to do, go on welfare? And let's not forget that now there's a baby who is going to be completely dependent upon you and Isobel for her well-being.”
The baby began to fuss, and suddenly Miranda was there with a bottle, scooping her out of Grayson's arms and attending to his daughter's needs as if she had always done so. John felt anger and frustration so sharp in his chest that it made him want to break everything in the room.
“You don't think I know that?” John spat. “You don't think that's all that's been on my mind since she called me? I'm not a fucking idiot!”
“You knocked up your under-aged summer fling, so that means you're a fucking idiot!” Grayson shouted back, his face clouding with anger.
John swallowed hard, startled. Grayson didn't get angry. Grayson got quiet, took deep breaths, and then logically discussed whatever it was which was irritating him. Never had John heard Grayon raise his voice and he had especially never spoken to John with such rage vibrating in every syllable.
“I'm sorry,” a new voice piped up, and all three of them turned to see Isobel standing in the doorway clutching the doorjamb, her dark hair hanging limply around her very pale face. “I didn't mean to cause any problems.”
“You didn't,” Miranda quickly assured her, crossing the room even as she threw pointed glares at the brothers Gilbert. “Everyone's just really tired. It's been a long night for all of us. Why don't you come sit down and hold your baby?”
John offered up his seat, helping Isobel sink down into the easy chair which sat in the waiting room, and she hissed through her teeth at the pain of the movement. She flicked her blue eyes up beneath her lashes, and John could see it all there: her fear, her pain, her nervousness.
“She's really beautiful, Iz,” he offered, running his fingers through his hair.
“Of course she is,” Isobel stated in the same matter-of-fact way she always spoke, cradling the baby in her arms, accepting the bottle Miranda offered. “Thank god my genes won out.”
Grayson and Miranda chuckled, but John recognized the familiar facade of toughness as Isobel's first line of defense against vulnerability.
There was no such thing as a secret in Mystic Falls, not really. Outside of the bizarre preoccupation with vampires, everything was known by everyone. While smiling to your face, the good citizens of Mystic County would discuss Rich's affairs, Brad's DUIs, Sheri Bennett's drug addiction; once one person knew what had happened, everyone knew and you would have to stand there in all your finery knowing you were the topic of clandestine conversation, the whispered name over the telephone lines.
Liz put on her dress anyway, applied gloss to her lips, and selected a black-and-gold mask.
A fucking masquerade. As if the people of Mystic Falls hadn't perfected wearing masks decades ago.
She suspected it was her own insecurities playing tricks on her, but Liz was almost certain the volume of the room dropped as she entered the Lockwood mansion as she had hundreds of times before, the women whispering as if to confirm that, yes, this was the Forbes girl whose husband left her for another man, the eldest Forbes, the one who hadn't been pretty enough to be Miss Mystic like her sisters, the one who had been so terminally unfriendly.
Immediately Liz was able to determine she was under-dressed compared to her peers. Her black dress was plain and downright conservative next to Miranda's peacock mask and the red dress Carol wore like a second skin. Because her hair was longer than she had worn it since before her mother died, Liz hadn't the slightest idea what to do with it and had left it to hang over her shoulders in natural waves. A quick survey of the room confirmed she was one of the only women who had chosen to wear her hair loose, and Liz hated herself for coming, for allowing her father to convince her she needed to get back out into society.
Liz had spent her entire life trying to avoid Mystic Falls society, and now she remembered why.
She was in the middle of getting a drink when Grayson sidled up beside her. His tie was the same brilliant blue as Miranda's dress, and, as he ordered a scotch, Liz knew something was wrong. Grayson never drank anything harder than the occasional beer or glass of wine; he always said alcohol made people stupid.
“Everyone's talking about me, aren't they?” she asked as the bartender handed her the martini she ordered.
“Fuck them,” Grayson replied, and Liz blinked in surprise at the unnatural slur to his words. Grayson wasn't just drinking; Grayson was drunk.
“Are you okay, Gray?”
He paused as if considering the question before shaking his head, taking a heavy swallow from his glass. Lowering his head, he asked, “Can we get out of here?”
It wasn't the first time he had ever asked her that at a Founders' event; their adolescence was defined by the events they escaped. But it was the first time he had asked since they were adults, since their absences would be noticed.
“You can't leave Miranda,” she gently pointed out. “Why don't we just go for a walk?”
Grayson nodded, grasping her wrist and tugging her towards the French doors which lead to the back of the property. Liz didn't know why he was tugging her along; she could find her way around the grounds with her eyes closed, knew the twists and turns of the acreage better than Rich. But she didn't fight it, not when Grayson was so obviously not himself; instead she let him take her down towards the pond where the fountains sprayed in beautiful patterns.
“Well, I know why I want to escape. Why do you?”
Grayson sighed, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting it drop to the grass. Liz watched in amusement as he sank down onto it, sloshing his drink in the process. She carefully slipped her feet from her heels, kneeling down beside him in the cool, moist grass.
“Have you ever done something so bad, you don't think you'll ever be able to make it right?”
Liz blinked in surprise before admitting, “I feel like I've done a lot of things that probably weren't that great.”
“No, not something minor. I mean, have you ever done anything that you just know ruined someone, killed their spirit?”
Liz shook her head minutely. “What's going on, Gray?”
“It's my fault,” Grayson admitted, the syllables of his words slurring together. “It's my fault he's like this now.”
“Who's like what now?”
“John. I ruined him.”
Liz frowned in confusion. It had been years since she had seen John, not since Jeremy's christening when she and Rich had stood side-by-side and promised to provide spiritual guidance to the baby in her arms; she knew from conversations with Grayson that John had graduated from Richmond, forgoing law school to work for an insurance company, a career move which Grayson hated. Whenever she thought of John, she pictured the little boy who used to crawl into her lap while she was at the Gilbert house, begging her to read him his favorite book or help him with his homework.
“How did you ruin him?”
Grayson lifted his face, and Liz was startled by the sight of tears on his cheeks. “I was so jealous, Lizzie. Even while I was helping, I was so angry because he got to have her and I didn't. And I knew how much it was hurting him, but I took her anyway.”
Liz felt something brewing in her stomach, bile starting to rise in her throat. Certain she was misinterpreting Grayson's words, she asked, “Took who? What did you do, Grayson?”
“Elena,” was all Grayson answered, more tears slipping down his face.
“Elena? What does Elena - “ Liz stopped, the pieces suddenly coming together. “John is Elena's biological father?”
Grayson nodded miserably. “We wanted a baby so bad, Lizzie, and all of a sudden this girl was there, about to give birth to John's baby, and she left, giving us this letter saying how much she wanted us to have Elena. And John, he didn't want to give her away; I could see it in his eyes, but I kept telling him what a good choice it would be, how much we'd love her.”
“Gray - “
“He hates me now, Liz. Every time he looks at me, it's like he's accusing me of stealing his baby. And I did. I wanted that little girl so badly, I didn't care what it would do to him. All I cared about was Miranda and I finally having a baby of our own, and I sacrificed John for that.”
Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Liz squeezed him tightly. “Elena is a wonderful little girl, Gray, and that's because of you and Miranda. John was just a kid. He has to see how amazing Elena is, and if he blames you for that, that's his problem, not yours.”
“John wants her back.”
“What?”
Wiping at his eyes, Grayson explained, “He wanted to take her to the zoo in DC for her birthday, but Miranda said no, that it was too far and she's too young. And this morning John called me, and he was so angry. He just started yelling about how it's bullshit he can't even take his daughter out for her birthday and how the only reason he agreed to the adoption was because we promised he'd be able to be in her life. And then he said he wants to tell Elena, that he's willing to move back here and...and take care of her.”
“Gray - “
“I haven't told Miranda yet,” Grayson continued, his voice trembling. “She was always afraid of this, of him or her coming back to get Elena, and I told her John wouldn't do that. But I don't even know him anymore, Lizzie. It's like he's a stranger with my brother's face.”
Before Liz could say anything, she heard Miranda's voice calling out his name. Grayson lifted his tie, wiping at his cheeks, and Liz carefully got to her feet, waving her hand to show Miranda where they were at; within a minute, Miranda was crossing the yard in her impossibly high heels, concern on her face.
“Is everything okay?” Miranda asked, touching Grayson's face tenderly as she looked questioningly at Liz.
“All the pomp and circumstance, it just brought up memories of his dad,” Liz smoothly lied as Grayson nodded silently in agreement. “We just came to get some air.”
Distrust flitted briefly across Miranda's features before she returned her attention to Grayson. “You want to go home?”
“Yeah, that'd be great.” Trying to feign sobriety as best as he could, Grayson extended an arm and Liz met him halfway, accepting the hug and whispered thanks. “We'll see you later, Lizzie.”
As the Gilberts retreated across the lawn, Liz stared out at the fountains, streams crossing and uncrossing in rhythmic conversion, the water below rippling into the darkness.
“Where are you taking me?” Jenna laughed as she tried not to stumble as Mason drug her by the hand through the woods on the back of his property. The sun hung high in the April sky, a chill still leftover from the rough Virginia winter, and Jenna shivered as she stepped double-time to keep up with Mason's long strides.
“It's a secret,” Mason teased, stopping to help her over a fallen tree.
“You're going to murder me, aren't you? These past two years have all been an elaborate scheme to win my trust, lure me into the woods, and mutilate me, haven't they?”
“You forgot 'rape your corpse.' It's the most important part of my MO.”
“Mase - “
“We're almost there,” he assured her. “And then I have a surprise for you.”
When they reached the staircase which lead down into the earth, Jenna froze, momentarily freaked out. Enclosed spaces had never been her favorite thing, and she saw nothing but darkness. Mason hopped down the first couple of stairs and, when he noticed she was not following, he turned back around, resting his hands on her hips.
“What is this?”
“It's the old slave quarters my parents pretend doesn't exist. I found it a couple of years ago when I was hunting.”
“I don't want to go down there.”
“It's not as bad as it seems.”
Jenna raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Yeah, I'm sure the slaves were just wild about it.”
“Jay, do you really think I'd take you somewhere if it wasn't okay? You trust me, right?”
She trusted Mason with her life; he knew that.
“Okay, so why are we sitting in slave quarters on a Saturday afternoon?”
Mason grinned, reaching into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and pulling out something Jenna only vaguely recognized. “Because it's about the only place in Mystic Falls my parents don't have people who will report back to them about what an awful, delinquent child I am. And you are the person I want to do this with.”
“What exactly are we doing?”
Holding up the baggy in his hand, he smirked. “I swiped this from Jake. I figure it'll make that bullshit dinner we have to go to later bearable. You ever smoked before?”
“Just cigarettes,” she answered, watching as he clumsily lit the joint. The strangely sweet scent of the pot tickled her nose, and she could not help but laugh as Mason coughed as he took his first hit.
“You think you can do better?” he asked, voice raw from coughing. “Let's see it, Sommers.”
She coughed too, the rush of smoke different from the cigarettes she and Kelly shared at her kitchen table, but almost immediately Jenna felt the effects, her body pleasantly warming as she relaxed. Passing it back to Mason, he imitated her inhalation, and soon they were passing it back and forth with ease, laughing as they took turns imitating their mothers, siblings, and teachers.
It became a Saturday ritual, smoking up with Mason in the old slave quarters, leaving the expectations and disappointments of their parents on the surface as they sought shelter beneath the ground.
Ric thought she was a virgin.
It wasn't as if Isobel didn't know where the assumption came from; while they spent an exorbitant amount of time making out, crammed into their tiny single beds while their roommates were out, kissing until their mouths were swollen and sore, until their lips were numb and tongues tasted of the other, it rarely ventured further than that. When Ric would slide his hands beneath her shirt or beneath the band of her panties, Isobel could feel the desire coiling tight within her core, begging to be let out, demanding satisfaction. And, as she'd pump his length, making him moan and twist in her grip, Isobel would decide she was ready only to change her mind the second her back touched the mattress.
“It's okay if you're scared,” Ric assured her one rainy afternoon as they laid on their sides facing each other in his single bed, both of them naked and beneath his covers. Isobel was still trembling in his arms, feeling the aftershocks of panic at the temporary pressure of his cock against her wetness; she felt horribly embarrassed by her reaction, by the unused condom unfurled in his trash can, unneeded and wasted.
“I'm not - “
“It's okay,” he cut in, stroking her hair away from her face, his expression almost unbearably kind. “We don't have to do this right now, Iz. When you're ready, we'll try again. I'd be happy just holding your hand.”
“But you want this,” she whispered, touching his face softly with her fingertips, afraid he'd dissipate like smoke right out of her grasp.
Ric smiled, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “Well, yeah. I'm a nineteen-year-old guy and you're beautiful. But, Iz...I don't want this until you want this. I never want to make you do something you don't want to do. That's not...That's not what I want for us.”
She hated it, how much she wanted to be with him and how terrified it made her. It made her feel broken, like a shell of the girl who had kissed John first, who had taken him up to her room and inside of her body without a single thought beyond, I love you, I want you, I need you to be a part of me. Every time she had slept with John, twisting her hips to find his rhythm, she had never considered the consequences, never considered anything.
It killed her, how all she could now think when Ric touched her was This was how you lost Elena.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be sorry.” He kissed her forehead, her temple. “We have all the time in the world.”