•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Ara?" Stefan peeks his head around the flower beds, curiously watching his sister. She sits cross legged atop her table, reading a levitating book. In one hand she holds burning sage, and in another, a half eaten apple.

"Hey," She greets, looking up and allowing the book to fall to the table with a thud. "Just doing some cleansing. What's up?" Stefan awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, walking towards her.

"I, uh... I've been avoiding this for a while now, but I think we need to talk about it," He sighs. "I remember Chicago, Arabella. 1922," She watches him closely as he speaks. "I had my humanity off when Klaus compelled me to remember, so I didn't care enough to talk to you about it. And then I consumed myself with revenge, and then... I don't know. I hated the idea of talking about this."

"I always assumed you just didn't want to bring it up," Arabella admits, jumping down from the table and biting into her apple. Stefan's brows furrow.

"Arabella. You tried to kill me."

"I know, I was there," She replies bluntly, closing her book and crumbling up the burnt sage into a tray. She walks over to a flower bed and sprinkles the ashes upon it, offering it back into the Earth.

"I knew you were angry, but..." Stefan shakes his head. "I'm your brother. And you tried to kill me."

"Repeating it doesn't change the facts, Stef," Arabella informs bitterly. "Your tone implies you're angry."

"That you tried to stake me? Yeah, maybe a little."

"How do you think Desmond felt?" She snaps, whipping around. "When you drove that stake through his heart? His own brother-in-law. His family!" Her voice rises as she speaks. "Stefan, you killed someone I loved! And you kept killing, and killing... there was no end! I was trying to do what was best."

"I'm your brother," Stefan mutters, shaking his head. "I know I have no right to be angry, but--"

"You're right, you have no right," Arabella points a finger at him accusingly. "I have sat back, day by day, watching as you got to be happy! Everyone here knows you as the noble, good brother. And I have had to sit back, and let them, while you were the one who stole my happiness! I know you weren't in control, okay, I know that. But it doesn't change the fact that you took Des away from me. My husband."

Stefan watches her with sad eyes, a sudden realization hitting him. "You lied," He whispers, his eyes glassly. "You never forgave me, did you?" Arabella opens and closes her mouth, not quite sure what to say.

"Would you?" She finally asks, tears building up in her green eyes, and one trailing down her cheek. "If I killed Elena... would you forgive me? If I took a knife and dug it through her heart, and you got to watch as the life slowly vanished from the woman you loved... would you forgive me?" Stefan looks down, knowing the truth held in her words.

"I tried to make myself better," He reminds her quietly. "I will never regret anything more than what I did to Desmond."

"I know," Arabella harshly wipes the tears from her face, laughing sadly. "A part of me did forgive you. The same part of me that was grateful that Rebekah was there that night. But... another part of me, a really dark part of me? It wishes I had pushed that stake through your heart and saved innocent bloodshed."

Stefan stares at her in shock, speechless. Perhaps he deserves that, but it doesn't change how badly it hurts to hear it. Wordlessly, he turns and leaves.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Damon narrows his eyes at his sister as she yawns tiredly, mixing together some herbs for Alaric, who apparently now had an evil alter ego. They're both sitting in her greenhouse, Damon mixing up some cursed concoction of blood, bourbon, and coffee.

"What?" Arabella snaps without gazing up, harshly grinding the pestle into the stone bowl. Damon stares at the bowl in slight concern.

"Easy, Bella Bean, I think you're hurting the bowl," Arabella smacks her hand on the table, glaring at him.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?!" She exclaims. Damon flinches at her sudden tone change.

"Geez, someone's in a bad mood," He mumbles under his breath. "St. Stef seemed extra broody today too. Coincidence?"

"I can't be blamed every time Stefan decides to be sad," Arabella grumbles, adding a bit of lavender oil into the mixture and grinding it.

"But this time you can be, can't you?"

"He wanted to talk about 1922," She sets down the pestle, looking up. "He was upset that I tried to kill him."

"Yeah, he mentioned that to me a while ago," Damon hums, pouring some more bourbon into the coffee cups. "Told him it was better to leave it alone. That's what he gets for not listening to his big brother," He closes the lids on the coffee cups, placing his thumb over the opening and shaking them a bit. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Arabella shrugs innocently, looking down guiltily. In a small voice, she adds, "Just that I kinda regret not killing him."

Damon stares at her in surprise. "Do you?"

"I don't know, Dames," Arabella throws her hands up, slumping down into her stool. "No! Of course not, he's Stef. He's our brother. I just... I was angry. Angry that he was angry."

"You tried to kill him, ignored him for seventy years, and lied about forgiving him" Damon points out, standing up and walking over to her. "And he killed your husband. If anything, I say you're equal."

"Equal?" Arabella scoffs, looking up as he sets down a coffee cup. "He killed my husband, and we're equal because I wanted revenge and then lied about forgiving him?"

"We're the Salvatore's," Damon rolls his eyes "You really expect it all to be sunshine and rainbows? Yeah, he killed your man, like, a hundred years ago. And yeah, it hurts, but you have to move on at some point."

"You should hear yourself right now," She shakes her head.

"We've all done terrible things, Bella," Damon raises a brow at her. "Remember your no humanity binge? You were almost as bad as him," Arabella's face falls slightly at his words, looking down. "You know how hard it is to control it."

"Desmond was family," She argues quietly.

"Try this," Damon slides the coffee cup closer, deciding to change the subject. "An equal mix of blood, bourbon, and coffee. Damon's coffee. Doffee," Arabella stares at her brother, waiting for him to laugh and say he's joking.

"That sounds like poison," She tells him bluntly. "Let me get this straight, you thought about that name in your head, and decided, yeah, I'll say that out loud?" She snorts, picking up the cup. "I really do wonder what it's like in your mind."

Damon taps his cup against hers, the two of them taking a sip of the drink. He scrunches his nose up and smacks his lips together a few times, trying to decipher the taste. Arabella looks pleasantly surprised.

"Woah. Dame, this is actually pretty good," She admits, taking another sip. Damon shakes his head, setting his cup down next to her.

"Too much coffee, not enough blood and bourbon," He grabs the mixture Arabella had put into a container, smiling. "I'll get this to Dr. Jekl. And Bella," He sets a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry about Desmond, but you have to move on at some point. He'd want that for you," With that, Damon leaves the greenhouse, allowing his sister to think over his words.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

These last few days, Arabella has tried to avoid mostly everyone she could. She hasn't exactly done a very good job at keeping everyone happy with her. Stefan was still hurt from her words, Bonnie was still angry about Abby, which meant Elena was avoiding her as well. Alaric had a weird alter ego, and the only person she managed not to upset was Caroline. So, Arabella surprisingly decided to spend some time on the party planning committee, getting ready for this year's decade dance.

"It looks good," Arabella remarks as herself and Caroline stride into the school gym, packed with students dressed in tacky costumes. Arabella had on a traditional, deep blue flapper outfit, the head band around her rolled up hair.

"I do better," Caroline turns her nose up. "Rebekah being head is not a good look," Arabella laughs lightly at her words, spotting Bonnie dancing in the crowd with some boy. Their eyes meet, the younger witch sneering at her and turning away.

"She's still pissed," Arabella remarks. Caroline purses her lips.

"You turned her mom."

"I didn't say I expected forgiveness," She shrugs. "I suppose everything is right in the world if the Bennett's hate the Bedaux's."

"Why do your families hate each other?" Caroline asks, frowning. Arabella sighs, shaking her head.

"Bennett's are servants of nature. Bedaux's basically broke every law of nature. It's complicated," Caroline nods, understanding that she doesn't really want to dive any deeper. Instead, the blonde goes off to fix the array of cups on the table that Matt was attempting to put down.

"Hello, love," Arabella looks up, groaning as Klaus comes in front of her. "I thought you didn't like parties?"

"Well, I helped plan this one," She shrugs, observing Klaus. He's dressed sharply in a white tux, looking not too shabby. She mentally kicks herself for staring too long. No need to boost his ego anymore than it already is.

"Care to dance?" Klaus holds out a hand as the music slows. Arabella stares down at it in disgust.

"I'd rather pull out my own intestines."

"Such dramatics," Klaus rolls his eyes. "Come on. I have some news I think you'd like to hear," Reluctantly, Arabella places a gloved hand in his own, allowing the hybrid to lead her to the dance floor.

As they dance, Arabella studies her feet, feeling slightly nervous. Though she's not sure why.

"I'm sorry about Finn," She finally says, looking up to find Klaus already staring at her. "Too bad Bennett unlinked you all first," He chuckles dryly.

"I see manners aren't exactly your strong point," He observes. "You should be kinder to me. I'm leaving town tomorrow," Arabella's brows shoot up.

"Finally," She grins. Klaus' smile falters slightly.

"I wanted to tell you; my offer still stands."

"You think I'm going to leave town with you?" She scoffs, staring at him incredulously. "Are you insane?"

"Quite the contrary, sweetheart," He twirls her around, pressing Arabella closer against him when they link hands again. His other hand is pressed tightly against her lower back, causing goosebumps to appear on the younger vampire's skin despite the hot and packed room. "Tell me. What exactly does this town have to offer you?"

"I came to Mystic Falls to kill you," Arabella reminds. Klaus shrugs.

"It's your loss, really," He leans his face closer, a genuine look in his eyes. "You know, Arabella, I think we are far more alike than you would ever care to admit," She lets out a sarcastic laugh at his words.

"Oh, yeah? How do you figure?"

"Neither of us have ever felt like we belong," Klaus tells her simply. "We've felt like outcasts our entire lives, even in our own families. People have tried to subdue our power as long as we can remember, simply because we are two halves of supernatural creatures that they cannot fathom."

"I'm not like you; I'm a vampire who just happens to have access to magic."

"Call it what you want, sweetheart, but at the end of the day, you're just as much of a hybrid as I am," He raises a brow, the corner of his lip pulling up. "Just a different mix. And let's be honest, when either of us is stripped of our other half, we will stop at nothing until we are whole again."

"Less than a week ago you called us enemies and vowed to make my life a living hell," Arabella narrows her eyes up at him. "Don't tell me a drunken mistake made you soft?" Klaus smiles gently.

"Perhaps I realized I could never truly view you as an enemy, Arabella," She hates the way her name falls off of his tongue with such ease. But at the same time... "After all, how could I hate someone I find myself relating so much to?" The song ends, yet Klaus still keeps his hold on Arabella. She finds herself not pulling away. "Tell me I'm wrong?"

The younger vampire opens her mouth to object, to tell him that he absolutely is wrong and that the two of them share zero similarities. However, as Klaus holds Arabella's gaze, she finds herself quiet, in a silent, yet reluctant agreement.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Klaus," She finally says. He purses his lips, letting her go.

"Your stubbornness will be the end of you, Arabella Salvatore," Despite his words, there is a hint of amusement and sarcasm in his tone. As if he knows something she doesn't.

She backs away from him, turning on her heel and leaving the auditorium. At this point, she just wants to go home. This dance was a stupid idea.

Arabella continues down the halls to leave through one of the backdoors, when suddenly, a throbbing pain forms in her skull. It intensifies to the point where she doubles over, clutching her head in pain.

"What the hell?" She groans, kneeling on the ground.

"You're a powerful witch, my dear," Arabella's gaze snaps up, her breath catching in her throat as Esther makes slow steps towards her. "I can't risk anything going wrong tonight."

"I... will kill yo-- Agh!" She squeezes her eyes shut as the pain intensifies. The younger witch holds her hand up, but finds herself lacking magic.

"A boundary spell," Esther explains with a small smile. "You are powerful, Arabella, but I am far older and far more experienced," She holds her hand out, chanting under her breath, the pain in the younger witch's head becoming unbearable. The last thing Arabella sees is Esther walking towards her, before her neck is snapped.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Author's Note:

Hey everyone! Just wanted to pop in and say thank you for helping this story reach 1k reads! I've noticed all the votes and I'm super thankful!

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment!

-Athena