Text from; Douchebag Salvatore

We've got a visitor

Text to; Douchebag Salvatore

Why should I care? I don't live there anymore, mon ami.

Text from; Douchebag Salvatore

It's a very Bulgarian visitor.

"I'm here!" the door slams shut behind me, I can hear a sound that is hard to describe in combination with two distinct voices.

"I don't know what you're doing down there, trying to fuck and or kill each other, but I am getting kind of sick of this weird little dynamic you've got going on." She is in front of me at the blink of an eye. Elena, but not Elena. My sister, but not my sister.

All brown hair and oval face. Thick lashes that surround her brown, almond-shaped eyes. She wears more make-up then Elena. Her hair is curly and thick, longer than her doppelgänger's. And then comes the whole style difference, while Elena wears comfortable jeans and sweatshirts, Katherine elects to wear leather, a shirt with more cleavage than you can look at and a pair of way too high heels. But today, Katherine looks like Elena. Her hair has been straightened, she wears a boring purple top with some simple blue jeans and sneakers underneath. It's almost funny how easily you can tell that she isn't Elena however, her mannerisms always seem to betray her. She is holding a plastic bag filled with clothes, they must be the ones I gave to her to wear while she was in the tomb.

She turns her head and looks at me, "you are one to talk about strange dynamics, sestra." A sarcastic grin overtakes my face and I walk past her, bumping into her shoulder.

"I wasn't expecting to see you anytime soon," even when I have walked a head of her and into the kitchen, when I get there she is already sat on a counter top. She has thrown the plastic bag down beside her.

"Where's Damon?" I pop a grape into my mouth and chew the juicy flesh. He appears behind me, I know this because he puts an intrusive hand onto my waist.

"Hey," I slap his hand off the tender skin of my stomach and back to its place.

"Hello, why am I here exactly?"

"I need some help and I don't trust your fake big sister."

"Sounds entirely reasonable to me."

The Gilbert journals are a mess. The brabbling of a mad man, some would say. And even if you, like Damon and I, knew of the supernatural, it would still seem like the blabbering of a mad man.

I had met him, in the 1800's when I was here in Mystic Falls. He was a big part of the society and he came to our engagement party if I remember correctly. He had known of vampires for a long time by then and when Katerina came to town, he knew what time it was.

Next to me is Damon, also slowly scrolling through the journals, on this mission of finding an ancient witch burial ground somewhere in Mystic Falls. The pages of the books have faded ever so slightly and it reminds me of Stefan's journals, the ones I am still too afraid to read.

"What you up to?" the raspy voice of Katerina cuts through the silence in the room, forcing my eyes from the pages up to her face.

"None of your business," Damon seems to be able to ignore the distraction of Katherine, but he has known her longer than I ever did, so it is to be expected.

"We're pouting now? Are those the Gilbert journals?"

"Can you not just, you know, go away?" Now she is the one pouting.

"How am I supposed to help you if you won't tell me what you're up to?" Damon sits up and shifts some of the couch pillows.

"Can you tell me where a bunch of witches were massacred in this town a couple centuries ago?"

"No."

"Then you can't help."

She tries to grab one of the journals but Damon slaps her hand away, she hits his and he turns her around to push her onto one of the chairs. He is practically laying on top of her now.

"If it's any consolation, I'm glad you're not dead." She scoots past him and gets up.

I just groan loudly, if my opinions weren't clear enough, they are now. Strangely I don't feel jealous when I see Damon with Katherine, I think it's because I know they will never end up with each other.

The jealousy in itself is ridiculous, I am not in love with Damon, but when I think of him with Elena it hurts my heart in ways I never imagined. I am rooting for them, I mean who isn't, but the thought of losing someone else I love to a girl with her face hurts incredibly.

"Emily Bennett told me about the massacre. It was a big deal in witch folklore. When a witch dies violently, they release a mystical energy marking the place of their death with power."

"Elijah wanted to know the site of the massacre."

"What was he going to do when he found it?" he taps his fingers on the spine of the journal.

"I don't know." The door to the Salvatore house opens again, it seems to open and close all day.

"What did papa witch and baby witch have to say?" It's the one and only Stefan Salvatore entering his own house, his steps loudly echoing through the house.

He falls down onto the couch in between Damon and I and grabs a journal from the table.

"Hey you," he smiles at me. Sins of the past forgotten.

"Hey weirdo." He looks away from me and points at Katherine.

"Isn't she gone or dead yet?" she sighs in return.

"For the last time, I'm here to help. Can we skip the secrets, hmm?" Stefan gives in, he knows that Katherine isn't going to leave anyway.

"Elijah had no weapon to kill Klaus but he believed that if a witch could channel enough power...They wouldn't need one."

"Something like the power you get from a spot marked with a hundred dead witches?" Stefan looks at me and nods.

"We just need to find it."

The fire is crackling away. If I am to be forced to read a thousand pages of crazy man journal, I can at least melt away by the fire. Katherine is sitting on a chair and next to her, on the couch is Damon, laying in a casual pose. I take a bite from the apple in my hand.

I hear them bickering, Katherine and Damon, but I can't be bothered to follow their domestics anymore. The only thing I can focus on is this fire, this endless fire. I have always liked it, the flickering orange in the fireplace. Or you know, not in the fireplace.

I only notice that I have gotten way too close to the heat when I get pulled back by large hands. My arm feels like it's burning, why didn't I feel that before?

"What the hell are you doing?" it's Stefan who is in my face, before I can think of an answer he has gone into the kitchen and has gotten and ice pack and has pressed it against my arm.

"The fire.."

"Damon!" it's Katherine's voice, and even with all my hatred I can't ignore the sound of someone I need. I run down to the basement, dropping my ice pack in the process.

I only arrive when Damon is pulling a stake from Katherine's body, her shirt stained in blood. I take her hand. Because somewhere in my centuries old brain that is the right thing to do, because she was family once and even through all she has done, and even when it is her fault, she, Caroline and Liz are the only family I have left in this world.

She squeezes my hand gently, just to let me know that she is there and when Damon looks between us I think he sees it for the first time. How alike we are. Not in appearance, no not at all. But in personality, because we will do anything for family. We only had each other back in Bulgaria, and now this truth has returned to us. They were all killed, you see. Our parents and other siblings and we don't know whatever became of my niece, her daughter.

We only know that even if we pretend not to trust each other, we are the only ones we can trust.

And now, Damon knows it too.

"Damon..." she whispers and looks in the direction of Elijah's body. The dagger inside of him is moving, slowly being pulled out. Damon takes something into his hand and when he holds it up flames spout out, they seem to surround a human figure that isn't here.

"The fire.."

LOVE