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tomhiddlestonfanfic · 3 years ago

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He Loves Me Not Chapter Twenty

Ch.1 - Ch.2 - Ch.3 - Ch.4 - Ch.5 - Ch.6 - Ch.7 - Ch.8 - Ch.9 - Ch.10 - Ch.11 - Ch.12 - Ch.13 - Ch.14 - Ch.15 - Ch. 16 - Ch. 17 - Ch.18

Summary & Chapter Index

TITLE: He Loves Me Not

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: 20/?? WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom OTHER CHARACTERS: Benedict Cumberbatch PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston/OFC GENRE: Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance, Teen Angst, Coming of age

FIC SUMMARY: Norah is a troubled teenager who is secretly and obsessively in love with her sister Sarah’s boyfriend, Tom. Sarah constantly worries about her younger sister, who is struggling with depression and anxiety, and one night, after a long evening at a charity event, Tom decides that he has had quite enough of Norah’s at times reckless and what could be considered rather selfish behaviour. He reveals a new side of himself as he desperately tries to help Norah break her vicious circle of self-destruction and open her eyes to the beautiful things in life. Could he be Norah’s knight in shining armor? Or will his efforts prove to be all in vain? Is his mere presence actually doing more harm than good? Could he ever love her the way she loves him?

WARNINGS: This story contains potentially triggering subjects such as Depression, Anxiety, Self-Harm, Self-Destruction, Eating Disorders, Talk About Suicide and Suicidal Ideation. It also deals with the subject of Grief and contains Previous Character Deaths. Other potentially upsetting subjects this story contains are Spanking Fantasies, Sexual Fantasies, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Age Difference and Age Play.

If you are having a hard time and think that stories containing any of those subjects might have a negative effect on your wellbeing, I advise against reading it and wish you the best of luck. Please, take care of yourself.

CHAPTER TWENTY New Friends

Norah groaned as she was roughly woken up by having a tube forced down her throat. She tried to fight the hospital staff off, but was being firmly held down as they proceeded to get the tube down. Tears ran down her face and she desperately gasped for air when throwing up the liquid being pumped into her stomach through the tube.

"Try to breathe through your nose," a female voice advised. "You're going to be alright, Norah. I know this is very unpleasant, but we're only doing this to help you."

"Norah, I'm right here." It was Sarah's voice. "I'm holding your hand," she added, giving Norah's left hand a gentle squeeze. "Try to keep calm and breathe through your nose."

Norah managed to breathe as instructed in between her violent vomiting. She cried, because she was exhausted, confused and scared, and she felt like she couldn't breathe properly. Everything seemed to hurt, especially her throat and stomach.

When the plastic tube was finally being pulled out of her throat, she took several deep breaths. Her vision was still blurred, but it had at least started to become clearer than before.

"I'm going to put an oxygen cannula in your nose. It's not going to hurt and it will provide you with the extra oxygen you need right now," a nurse explained to Norah before carefully putting it in place.

"Thanks," Norah mumbled and laid back down on the examination table. She rubbed her tired eyes and accidentally pulled off the oximeter from her right hand.

“This stays on,” the nurse from before said firmly and reattached the oximeter on Norah’s index finger. “How’s your vision?”

“It’s all blurry, but it’s a little bit better than before,” Norah replied in a hoarse voice.

“So it’s getting better then. That’s a good sign,” the nurse said in a friendly voice. “Let’s get you into a wheelchair and take you to the ward. The doctor will come see you there.”

“The ward?” Norah asked with a hint of panic in her voice. “Which ward?”

“We’ll take you to ward 80, it’s a general ward,” the nurse replied as she helped Norah get down into the wheelchair.

“I think I can walk,” Norah objected.

“Let’s not take any chances. A couple of minutes ago, you could barely breathe on your own,” the nurse said seriously.

“Really?” Norah asked and looked in Sarah’s direction. She couldn’t see her facial expression, but she could hear in her sister’s voice that she was serious.

“Your lips were blue,” Sarah confirmed. “Then you went unconscious and scared the life out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Norah mumbled, feeling ashamed of herself for drinking so much. She put her bare arms around herself to get warmer and placed her right hand in front of the left to hide the worst scars. Tom took his jacket off and put it over Norah’s shoulders. “Thank you,” she said and smiled when Sarah put Norah’s jacket and shirt over her arms and in her lap. Norah relaxed, relieved to have her scars hidden beneath the clothes. She wasn’t used to having them out there for everyone to see.

“Let’s get you to bed,” the nurse said once they had reached the room Norah would be staying in. There were four beds in it with curtains between the beds to give the patients some privacy. One of the beds was empty and Sarah stopped the wheelchair right next to it.

“I have to use the toilet,” Norah mumbled as she stood up from the wheelchair. She grabbed the bed for support as her head was spinning.

“I’ll take you,” Sarah offered helpfully. Norah felt embarrassed but realised that she in that particular moment needed help with walking straight, so she let Sarah help her all the way to the toilet seat. “Here’s some paper,” Sarah said, handing her some toilet paper. “I’ll wait right outside. Let me know when you’re done.”

Norah emptied her bladder in what felt like ages. When she was finally done and had managed to pull her pants back up without falling she headed towards the sink and tripped over her own feet.

“Damn it, Norah. I told you to let me know when you were done,” Sarah said with a sigh and helped her little sister up from the floor.

“I misjudged the distance,” Norah mumbled as she washed her hands.

“What’s that on your top? Is it blood? Did you hurt yourself?” Sarah asked concernedly.

“Oh, that,” Norah said as she realised that she had bled through the top. “It must be blood from when I had a nosebleed.”

“When did your nose bleed?” Sarah asked.

“Before. At the party,” Norah lied.

“But that was like an hour ago. This blood is fresh,” Sarah remarked. “Did you cut yourself on your stomach?”

“It was only superficial,” Norah said quietly and crossed her arms over her stomach to hide it from Sarah.

“Let me see,” Sarah said, seemingly disappointed.

“No. I’m not showing you my fat stomach!” Norah said angrily. “Let me keep some of my dignity.”

“Fine. I won’t make you. But at least let the nurse have a look at it so she can dress the wounds properly,” Sarah told her.

“There are no wounds, just superficial scratches,” Norah insisted. “No one needs to look at it.”

“But it bled through your top,” Sarah objected.

“Scratches can bleed too, you know,” Norah told her.

“Let the nurse look at it,” Sarah kept insisting.

“Just leave me alone!” Norah told her angrily and pulled away the nose cannula that was attached to an oxygen cylinder that was sitting on the floor near the toilet. She pulled the oximeter off her index finger and was about to throw it into the wall when Sarah quickly grabbed it from her.

“You’re not throwing stuff,” Sarah said sternly as she picked up the oxygen cylinder from the floor and carried it out of the bathroom. Norah sat down on the floor, because she couldn’t keep her balance enough to get anywhere by herself.

“Come on,” Sarah said once she came back. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Norah reluctantly let her sister help her walk the way from the bathroom to the hospital bed. When in bed, the nurse grabbed a nose cannula that was attached to the wall and put it on Norah. The nurse then proceeded to put another oximeter on Norah’s left fingertip.

“Norah, it’s time for Sarah and Tom to leave now so you can get some sleep. We’ll keep you here over the night to make sure you’re safe,” the nurse said. “The doctor will talk to you in a moment.”

“Can’t I stay?” Sarah requested. “Don’t I have a right to stay since she’s underage and I’m her legal guardian?” she questioned.

“Only if Norah wants you to stay,” the nurse said and Sarah frowned.

“Really?” Sarah questioned.

“Your sister needs to rest right now. And to judge by how tired you look, so should you. Go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow,” the nurse advised her.

“She’s right, Sarah. You need to get some rest too. Norah’s in good hands. She’ll be safe here,” Tom reasoned.

“She better be,” Sarah muttered before turning back to the nurse. “Can we at least wait until the doctor has had a look at her. I want to know for sure that she’ll be okay.”

“Fine. I suppose I would ask the same if it was someone I cared about,” the nurse agreed. Tom and Sarah sat down on two chairs, one on each side of the bed.

“How’s your vision?” Tom asked and handed Norah her phone. “You got a bunch of notifications before, so I turned the sound off.”

“Thank you,” Norah said appreciatively and tried to look at her phone screen. She could discern some letters, but they were too blurry for her to be able to read properly, even when she magnified them. “I still can’t see properly,” she said with a sigh.

“Would you like me to read for you?” Tom offered.

“Okay,” Norah agreed and handed him her phone.

“Let’s see here,” Tom said and read something on her phone. “You’ve got several friend and message requests on Facebook,” he told her.

“From who?” Norah asked curiously.

“One is from someone called Jim A Scott,” Tom said. “He’s sent a message request too.”

“Check the message.”

“It says: Hi Norah, it’s me, Andrew from the new year’s party. How are you doing?”

“Accept the request and answer that I’m alright,” Norah instructed.

Tom helped Norah go through the messages on her phone and she felt grateful for being alive as she was reminded of how many people cared about her. Most of her messages simply consisted of the sentence ‘happy new year’, but every single one of them meant the world to her at that moment. She had gotten friend requests from Will, Trevor, Amanda and Lacey from the party. They all asked how she was doing and wished her a happy new year. Norah also got messages from Riko, Joe and Lucy from their trip to the coast. She smiled as the doctor came in to see her.

“Norah Collins?” he asked, looking down at his papers.

“That would be me,” Norah replied and pulled the blanket to cover her bare scarred arms.

“I have some questions for you, and I want you to answer them honestly,” the doctor said seriously.

“Okay,” Norah mumbled.

“Would you like them to leave so we can talk in private?” the doctor asked, to Norah’s surprise.

“I’m her legal guardian,” Sarah interjected. “Don’t I have the right to know what’s going on?”

“Of course I want to talk to you too,” the doctor told Sarah. “But Norah’s nearly eighteen and should have the right to speak to me alone, if she wants to. Especially since I’ll be asking her some sensitive questions.”

“Would you like to speak to him alone?” Sarah asked Norah. “You know you don’t have to.”

“I think it might be easier for me to speak to him alone,” Norah replied, feeling empowered by being asked the question for once.

“Alright then,” Sarah said, seemingly a bit disappointed. “We’ll wait outside then.”

“Love you,” Tom said and handed Norah her phone back before quickly leaving the room with Sarah. Norah smiled at his words, knowing they were true, but not in the way she wanted them to be. He loved her like a sister, not a lover. She felt sure about that now. And for the very first time, it didn’t bother her that much. She actually felt okay with that. He did not love her in the way she wanted him to, but that was alright.

The doctor shut the door before walking up to Norah.

“Happy new year, Norah,” he said as he sat down in a chair near her bed.

“Happy new year,” Norah replied.

“I’m Darius Fereshteh and I’m a doctor,” he introduced himself. “I was told that you were not in a good state when you got here. How are you feeling now?”

“I’m very tired,” Norah said honestly, looking at his blurry face. He sounded young, she thought, wondering if he was handsome too. “And embarrassed,” she added truthfully.

“What are you embarrassed about?” he wondered, taking notes.

“I’m embarrassed about drinking too much and taking up a hospital bed at new year’s eve. I know you guys have a lot to do this time of year. I swear it wasn’t on purpose,” Norah told him apologetically.

“Don’t worry about taking up a bed, Norah. Even if the most acute phase is over, your life could still be in danger, so you need to stay over the night so we can make sure you are alright,” the doctor said. “Do you understand that you could have died from alcohol poisoning?”

“Yes, I understand,” Norah said.

“Good. How’s your vision?” the doctor asked.

“Still a bit blurry,” Norah told him with a sigh. “Will it pass?”

“I can’t promise you anything, if you’re unlucky it’s possible to go blind if you don’t watch what you drink,” the doctor said.

“But my vision has gotten clearer than it was before, that’s a good sign, right?” Norah asked, feeling genuinely worried. She had taken for granted that she would get her vision back. But what if it didn’t? “But I’m only seventeen. I can’t lose my sight already,” she objected.

“It doesn’t matter what age you are if you drink the wrong things. But it is a good sign that your vision is better now than it was before,” he told her. “Your vitals look good. I believe the stomach pumping did its job,” he added.

“It was horrible,” Norah said. “I’d rather die than-”

“Are you sure about that? Because you could have died. Would that be worth it?” the doctor questioned. “I understand that it wasn’t fun, but in your case, it actually saved your life,” he explained. “Would you really rather die than going through that again?” He didn’t really sound angry, but he was very serious as he asked Norah the questions.

“No, I wouldn’t. It’s just an expression,” Norah mumbled in response.

“That’s alright. I just want you to know how serious this is,” the doctor said. “So you didn’t drink with the intent of hurting yourself?”

“No, not really,” Norah replied.

“Did you realise that it could be dangerous to drink as much as you did, especially considering the medications you take?” the doctor asked.

“I didn’t really think about that,” Norah mumbled and looked down at her phone in her hands and thought about all the messages she had gotten and the friends she had made preceding year.

“Were you completely oblivious about the fact that it could be dangerous, or didn’t you care that it could be dangerous?” the doctor asked.

‘Bastard,’ Norah thought to herself. He had set up a trap for her, either she would admit to being stupid or she would admit to being self-destructive. She went for the honest answer. “I just wanted to have fun,” she told him.

“You don’t strike me as unintelligent. I believe you knew that it was not a good idea to mix your anxiety medication with alcohol,” the doctor said.

Norah blushed, feeling embarrassed. “It was stupid of me to drink on benzos,” she admitted.

“That’s more like it,” the doctor said and Norah was pretty sure he smiled at her. “It would offend me if you decided to pretend you were completely clueless. To judge by what I read about you in your medical record, you’re an intelligent young woman. Self-destructive and sometimes reckless, but intelligent nonetheless.”

“Why are you saying that I’m intelligent when I just did something really stupid?” Norah asked confusedly.

“Because you are intelligent, Norah Collins,” the doctor insisted. Norah could almost hear a smile in his gentle voice. “And just like every other person, intelligent or otherwise, you’re capable of making mistakes.”

“My sister is often described as intelligent, not I,” Norah said. “I’m an emotional wreck.”

“You can both be intelligent, can you not?” the doctor questioned.

“I suppose,” Norah said with a shrug. “But she’s really smart, unlike me.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair to yourself,” the doctor said. “She’s several years older than you, so of course she has more knowledge about some things than you have. But you also know things that she doesn’t know. For example, what it’s like to be you. You’re the only expert on that, which is why I wanted to talk to you alone. I want us to come to an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?” Norah wondered sceptically, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“An agreement on how we should proceed,” the doctor said. “You will stay here tonight, that’s already decided. But what do you think should happen after that?”

“That I should go home,” Norah replied.

“Would you truly be safe if you went home tomorrow, though?” the doctor asked. “Could you guarantee that you wouldn’t do anything more self-destructive once you were back home?”

“I promise,” Norah said and pushed away the thoughts of her most recent self-injury.

“Do you always keep your promises?”

“Of course.”

“If I were to ask your sister about that, what would her answer be?” the doctor asked. Norah sighed heavily. She had lied to Sarah so much over the years. That’s why she didn’t trust her anymore. “That’s what I thought. If you don’t keep your promises to your sister, why should I believe you would keep a promise to me?”

“Come on. You’re probably overcrowded with patients right now. Why would you try to convince me to stay here? I’m taking up a bed that others need more than I do,” Norah argued.

“I’ve seen this before and sadly, those stories don’t always have happy endings. I want your story to be long enough for you to start enjoying your life. You’re much too young for a tragic ending,” the doctor said.

“So was Hamlet,” Norah mumbled.

“So you like Hamlet?” the doctor asked, seemingly pleased by what she had said. “I believe he was several years older than you are now. But you’re right, he was too young for his life to end in such a tragedy.” Norah nodded in agreement but remained silent. “Can you relate to anyone in the play?”

“I suppose I can relate to Ophelia, but I mostly relate to Hamlet,” Norah told him.

“In which ways can you relate to him?” the doctor asked curiously.

“Well, he strikes me as very ambivalent,” Norah said thoughtfully. “Like he can’t make his mind up on whether he should live or die. He has extreme mood swings and does impulsive things. And I believe he has this awareness that people might regard him as mad, and it’s almost like he embraces that.”

“I see. I suppose the question I should ask right now is if there is a method in your madness?” the doctor wondered.

“I’d like to think so,” Norah replied with a gentle smile.

“I’d like to think so too. You’re a clever girl, Norah. I think you can turn things around and that you will one day turn those hard experiences into something you can make use of,” the doctor said.

“If you have so much faith in my potential, why not let me go and turn things around myself?”

“Because I believe you need some help with heading in the right direction. Something that will give you a kick start,” the doctor said.

“A kick start?” Norah questioned. “How?”

“Your psychiatrist has managed to get you a spot in one of England’s most well respected and successful treatment facilities. You should really take this opportunity and use it to turn your life around. Just give it a few months and I promise, you’ll find yourself on the right path,” the doctor told her enthusiastically.

“But I don’t want to go there. I’ve already told them no,” Norah said irritably.

“Don’t you want your life to change?” the doctor questioned. “Do you really want your life to end in tragedy just like Hamlet’s life did?”

“Of course not,” Norah said with a sigh. “But there are other ways to achieve changes in your life than going to a place like that.”

“Of course there are. But nothing is going to change unless you start doing things differently,” the doctor pointed out. “Why not take the chance to make a radical change to your life? A fresh start some might say.”

“A kick start into a new life,” Norah mused. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Then I think we need to consider keeping you here for longer than until tomorrow,” the doctor said seriously.

“Is that a threat?” Norah asked.

“It’s not a threat, Norah. It’s a safety precaution, because, given your medical history, I can’t guarantee that you do not pose a threat to yourself,” the doctor said.

“How much time have you spent reading my medical record?” Norah questioned irritably. “Do you really have time for that? Especially now of all days?”

“I have a confession to make,” the doctor told her abashedly. “Your psychiatrist is my mentor. That’s why I know so much about you.”

“So you’ve been fed with her opinions about my mental health. Aren’t you supposed to learn to think independently about patients?” Norah questioned.

“I have been thinking independently about your case. It was I who suggested that you would be a good candidate for Willow’s Creek,” the doctor said.

“Well, I’m still not going there,” Norah told him.

“Let’s talk more about it tomorrow,” the doctor suggested. “A nurse told me you had injuries on your stomach, may I see?”

“No,” Norah replied. “It’s just scratches.”

“How did you injure yourself?”

“I cut myself with glass from a broken mirror,” Norah told him. “It was in the heat of the moment. I couldn’t think straight.”

“So it was impulsive,” the doctor concluded.

“I suppose it was,” Norah replied.

“Do you promise to clean and dress the wounds yourself if I get a nurse to give you everything you need for it?” the doctor asked. Norah nodded, feeling grateful that he didn’t insist on seeing her self-inflicted injuries. “I trust you on this, Norah, because I believe you are capable of making sure that you don’t get an infection and I trust that you will ask for help if it should get infected.”

“I will take care of it,” Norah assured him.

“Can you promise me to consider Willow’s Creek? Just google it and read about it, it’s a really great place,” the doctor said.

“I will. If I get my sight back, that is,” Norah said.

“I’m pretty sure you will,” the doctor said and shook her hand. “It was very nice to meet you, Norah.”

“Um, you too, I suppose,” Norah answered awkwardly. She was pretty sure the doctor was smiling at her before leaving the room.

She found herself smiling to herself after their meeting. It was nice to not be treated as a child or made to do things against her will. He had actually respected her wishes.

“Hi,” Tom greeted Norah when he came back into the room. “We’ll be leaving soon so you can get some rest. Sarah just needs to talk to your doctor first,” he explained and sat down next to her. “Would you like me to help you with something while I’m here?”

“I suppose,” Norah said with a big yawn and handed him her unlocked phone. “Could you google ‘Willow’s Creek treatment facility’ for me and tell me about what you find?”

“Sure,” Tom replied and took the phone. “It’s in the countryside. It has a big indoor pool in the basement, table tennis, a gym, and oh, there’s access to horses. This looks more like a nice retreat than a treatment facility. It’s been rewarded for its good result in treating young adults with different mental disorders such as anorexia, bulimia, EDNOS, binge eating disorder, depression, bipolar disorder, anxiety disorders, and personality disorders.”

“Okay,” Norah replied. “Is it a place for rich people only?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. It’s possible for anyone fulfilling the criterions to be admitted. But it seems like it’s really hard to get access to the place since it’s so popular. It says that it’s a great commitment if you’re admitted. You’re expected to take responsibility for your health and to accept the help being offered.”

“I see,” Norah said.

“It sounds like a really great place, Norah,” Tom said eagerly. “I definitely think you should try it if you get the chance to.”

“Why though? I’m doing well now. Except for this little slip up, I’m doing quite well,” Norah told him. “I eat properly, I do my school work, I exercise regularly and I take more responsibility at home. I don’t need to go to a place like that.”

“I still think you should consider it. It might just be the perfect place for you to become more independent,” Tom said. Norah sighed. He was right about her not being independent enough. She still needed Sarah to remind her to eat and do school work and other important things that she wouldn’t prioritise over sitting by her computer playing games online with Riko and Joe. She would lose track of time and always stay up too late and skip meals if it hadn’t been for Sarah.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled in response. She felt self-conscious about the fact that Tom saw her as independent, which she associated with being immature. Maybe the mature choice in this situation would be to go to Willow’s Creek and give it a shot. But what was the whole purpose of trying to be more mature? It’s not like it would make Tom change his mind about loving her as if she was his sister rather than romantically. ‘Or would it?’ Norah couldn’t help but wonder.

“I won’t try to convince you anymore, because it’s entirely your choice, Norah. It’s your life and you should be living it the way you want to. I just think that place can give you an idea about what you want out of life,” Tom told her.

“You’re still trying to convince me though,” Norah remarked.

“Damn it, you’re right. I’m sorry,” Tom said apologetically.

Sarah came back inside the room. Norah couldn’t tell whether she looked pleased or not, but she sounded calm as she informed Tom that it was time for them to leave. He handed Norah her phone back and patted her on the shoulder.

“Take care, Norah. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said gently.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Sarah told Norah and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re going to be alright, Norah. Try to rest now.”

“I know. You two need to rest too,” Norah told them before they left.

Once she was alone, it didn’t take long for Norah to fall asleep.

When Norah woke up in the morning, she was relieved to discover that her sight was back to normal again. A nurse came in at eight o’clock with breakfast for her and her ordinary morning meds. Norah’s oxygenation levels were back to normal, so she could remove the nasal cannula and walk freely in the room she shared with three others who she hadn’t seen yet since they had been asleep when she arrived.

“I was told to give you those for your injuries,” a nurse told Norah and provided her with bandaids, sterile cotton balls to clean the wounds with and some wound cleanser. “Let me know if you need anything else or if you want any assistance,” the nurse added.

“Thank you,” Norah said appreciatively and went into the bathroom to nurse her wounds in private.

She cleaned the sink with some steriliser before putting the things down on top of a paper towel on the sink. She bit her lip as she carefully rolled up her white top that was stained with dried blood. With a pained grimace she pulled the white fabrik away where it had stuck to the wounds and she sighed with relief once it was done. She could feel the lukewarm liquid run down her stomach to the edge of her jeans and shook her head at how the wounds were a bit worse than she had thought. She had not looked at them properly before putting the bandages on after she injured herself. She stared at the letters in the mirror and felt like she wanted to cry. She questioned how she could have done something like this to herself, but refused to let herself get too emotional about it. What had been done, had been done. All she could do now was care for the wounds and hope the scars wouldn’t be as visible once the wounds had healed.

After nursing her wounds, Norah took her medication with some water, but ignored the breakfast she had received. She sat in her bed and checked her phone. She had gotten some more messages during the night and answered them, assuming that the people she wrote to were asleep by now since they had stayed up all night.

Sarah had texted and asked if she was awake. When Norah had just answered ‘Yes’, Sarah called her and she picked up the phone.

“We’re coming over,” Sarah informed her. “Do you need anything from home?”

“Not really. I’ll probably be discharged in a few hours,” Norah replied.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Sarah replied. “I’ll pack you a bag just in case you’re not.”

“But I’m fine now,” Norah objected, feeling a bit frustrated.

“You did something really dangerous and reckless last night, Norah. You could have died. I believe they might want to keep an eye on you to make sure you’re really okay,” Sarah reasoned.

“You mean mentally?” Norah asked.

“Exactly,” Sarah replied. “We’ll be there soon.”

Norah sighed and proceeded to check out her new friends’ social media profiles. She was especially interested in learning more about Lacey. She noticed that her new friend had a lot of friends and followers, and felt a bit discouraged about that. Norah thought she had felt a special connection with Lacey preceding night, but realised that she might just be one of many. Her heart sank when she found pictures of Lacey kissing other girls at parties. She seemed very generous with her kisses when she was drunk, which seemed to be almost every weekend. Norah felt somewhat disappointed by her discoveries and decided to move on to check Amanda’s profile. Norah felt glad to discover that they at least had some things in common. They seemed to like the same kind of series and movies and had a similar taste in music. She went on to check Trevor’s profile and learned that they had a similar taste in games. Norah checked Will’s profile and noticed that he liked to share medical, psychology and scientific articles. There was one article he had shared about a scientist who saw Borderline personality disorder as a neuropsychiatric condition. Norah opened the link to the article and saved it for later reading. She was interested in learning more about the condition her doctor thought she had, but hadn’t yet diagnosed her with. After reading about it, Norah felt like she could relate to a lot of the criterions for Borderline personality disorder. That’s why she had written an essay about the condition and Hamlet, which both Tom and Sarah had given her a lot of praise for.

A nurse aide came in with a bunch of papers for Norah to fill in. She flipped through them and realised that they were full mental health related questions. There was also a pile of papers with questions about her personality traits.

“What’s this all about?” Norah questioned before the nurse aide had a chance to leave.

“Your doctor wants you to fill in those papers while you’re here. It should keep you busy for some time,” the nurse aide told her with a gentle smile. “You should try to eat and drink something,” she added and nodded in the direction of the tray of breakfast.

“I’m not really hungry,” Norah lied. She felt sick when she thought about all the calories she had ingested through the alcohol preceding night.

“Could I get you something to drink then?” the nurse aide offered. “How about coffee, tea or hot chocolate.”

“Some black coffee would be nice,” Norah replied. “Thank you.”

The nurse aide smiled at her and grabbed the tray, before asking Norah’s roommates if they needed anything. Norah listened to the strangers’ voices and guessed that one was an elderly man, one an elderly woman and the third a younger woman. She couldn’t see any of them since the curtains were all closed.

After the aide had left the room, one of the curtains opened and a woman in her thirties with purple hair and tattooed arms were looking at her.

“Hi,” the woman said with a tired smile. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you also got your stomach pumped during the night.”

“Yeah, that was not fun,” Norah replied and blushed.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” the woman asked and sat down in a chair next to the hospital bed after Norah had nodded in response. “I’m Anastasia, but everyone calls me Ana.”

“It’s nice to meet you Ana, I’m Norah,” Norah replied and they shook hands.

“So what happened? Did you try to kill yourself?” Ana asked and Norah quickly shook her head. “It’s okay if you did. I don’t judge.”

“No, I just got too drunk, that’s all. I also take some meds that I shouldn’t mix with alcohol,” Norah explained. “How about you?”

“Well, I tried to kill myself, but a friend called me an ambulance. I didn’t think she would do that,” Ana explained, not seeming happy about her friend’s way of helping her.

“Do you still want to die?” Norah asked.

“Yeah,” Ana replied. “I’m tired of living like this.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Norah said sadly. She could really relate to that feeling. “Is there anything I could do for you?”

“The fact that you’re talking to me is making me feel less depressed,” Ana said and glanced at Norah's papers. “Are you doing a screening test for personality disorders?”

“Is that what this is?” Norah asked and took the piles of papers in her hands.

“Yeah, I did that a couple of years ago and found out that I have a borderline personality disorder,” Ana said. “That’s why the doctors hate me so much.”

“They hate you because you have borderline?” Norah asked with a frown. She didn’t understand why.

“Yeah. We’re not exactly popular in the health care system,” Ana explained. “Do you think you have it?”

Norah caught Ana looking at her injured arms so she put a hospital cardigan on to cover the white, red and purple scars.

“I believe I might,” Norah revealed. “But so does Hamlet.”

“Is that the guy talking to a skull?” Ana asked with a smile.

“Exactly. He’s known for the line ‘to be or not to be, that is the question,’” Norah explained, happy to talk about something she knew something about.

“It is a living hell to have borderline,” Ana said. “But I guess you know that already. How old are you by the way?”

“Seventeen,” Norah replied.

“You’re so young. I’m almost twice your age,” Ana told her. “But there’s still hope for you then,” she added with a smile. “There are treatments that work for some borderliners.”

“Have you tried any treatments?” Norah wondered.

“Yeah, I’ve pretty much tried every medicine and many different treatments for this shit. But I seem to be a hopeless case,” Ana said sadly.

“I don’t think you’re a hopeless case,” Norah said. “As long as there’s life, there’s hope.”

Ana smiled at her words. “Thank you, Norah,” she said appreciatively. “I’m glad to hear that someone still believes in me. My friends have all grown tired of my self-destructive behaviour.”

“I could be your friend,” Norah said. “No one should be alone with those thoughts and feelings.”

“If you really want to be friends, you can have my number,” Ana said.

“Of course I do,” Norah replied and they exchanged numbers. They spoke some more about life in general and what it was like to live with mental illness, until Sarah and Tom turned up.

“I’ll see you later, Norah,” Ana said before getting back to her bed.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Norah replied and smiled at her new friend.

"You've been making a lot of new friends lately," Sarah commented as she sat down in the chair Ana had been sitting in.

"I suppose so, what about it?" Norah asked defensively. She felt like Sarah was criticising her somehow.

"It's good. I'm happy for you," Sarah said, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You're happy for me but…?" Norah asked.

Sarah leaned in closer to her and whispered. "Maybe you could be a little more careful when it comes to trusting people you don't really know anything about."

"Really?" Norah questioned and crossed her arms. "Are you for fucking real?! First you want me to get out and expand my social network, but now that I am doing just that, you're saying I shouldn't."

"I just want you to be more careful with whom you share your life story. Maybe the hospital isn't the best place for you to meet new people," Sarah suggested.

"Well, fuck you then!" Norah hissed at her and spilled out her hot coffee into Sarah's lap.

"Damn it, Norah," Sarah muttered and grimaced in pain.

"It wasn't on purpose," Norah replied coolly.

"I sure hope so," Sarah muttered and got up from her seat. Tom handed her a bunch of paper towels and she wiped up the coffee from the floor.

"Did you get hurt?" Tom asked Sarah concernedly when she still had a pained facial expression.

"It burns," Sarah complained. "But I'm sure it's nothing major."

"Let's go to the bathroom and check," Tom said insistently and got out of his seat.

Norah tried not to feel guilty about the accident and picked up her phone to distract herself. She saw a message from Ana and smiled.

The message read: ‘Should we run away together? ;)’

‘Sure ;)’ Norah texted back and got out of the hospital bed. She smiled when she saw Ana do the same. They laughed as they grabbed each others’ hands and ran down the long corridor together.

“Ana!” a nurse called after them, so they ran even faster and exited the ward to the stairwell.

“Up or down?” Norah questioned.

“Down!” Ana replied and they ran down until they reached the ground floor. “Follow me,” Ana said, pulling Norah with her towards the exit. They ran through the automatic doors and both laughed as the cold winter weather greeted their bare feet and lightly clad bodies.

“It’s freezing!” Norah said as they continued down the street. A security guard looked at them suspiciously and began walking towards them, so they picked up running again. He began to run after them and soon put a stop to their little escapade when Norah tripped over her own feet and fell, pulling Ana down with her. They both laughed hard as they sat up on the cold wet ground and checked their bodies for scratches and bruises.

“What are you two up to?” the security guard demanded and looked at them with narrowed eyes. “Did you come from the psych ward?” Norah and Ana just looked at each other and continued to laugh. “Get up!” the man ordered irritably.

“We have done nothing wrong,” Norah told him as she got up from the ground. “We’re not from the psych ward. We just wanted to go for a walk.”

“Exactly,” Ana agreed.

“Did you by any chance come from ward eighty?” a female security guard asked as she walked up to them and looked straight at Norah. “Are you Norah?”

“Maybe,” Norah mumbled, biting her lip nervously. She felt a bit uneasy by the way the guards were looking at her as if she had done something wrong.

“Come on, they’re just worried about you,” the woman said assuringly and put an arm around her shoulders. “And Ana,” she said looking over her shoulder at Ana who was still on the ground. “Try not to give yourself pneumonia. You need to take care of yourself, darling. Otherwise you can’t keep us on our toes with your little escapades.”

Norah looked at Ana. She was only dressed in a hospital gown and a pair of pink girl boxer shorts. Her bare legs were notably thin which made Norah feel self-conscious about having reached normal weight. Ana was clearly underweight.

“Where were you headed this time?” the female guard asked them as she put her free arm around Ana’s thin shoulders.

“To the ice-cream parlour, drinking milkshakes cold and long,” Ana sang and Norah smiled at the David Bowie reference.

“Smiling and waving and looking so fine,” Norah said and met Ana’s gaze. Her eyes lit up with joy.

“Don’t think you knew you were in this song!” They both sang in unison.

“But you’re so young! And you like Bowie too! What are the odds?” Ana said excitedly and shone like the sun. “It must be destiny! We were meant to meet!”

“That must be it!” Norah agreed with a smile. They were soon back in the hospital where the female guard told her colleague that she could bring them back to the ward herself.

“Ana, they’ll be transferring you to ward eighty-two. I offered to take you myself,” the guard said as they stood in the elevator.

“That’s awfully sweet of you, Vera,” Ana replied with a sugary smile. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Norah listened to the guard and Ana joke with each other like they were old friends and smiled sadly as she thought about how Ana’s life must have been. In order to befriend a hospital security guard, Ana had probably been at the hospital quite some times. She had also mentioned that she barely had any friends left who could stand her self-destructive behaviour. Norah couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Ana felt more at home in the hospital than she did in her own apartment.

Once they reached the right floor and the elevator doors opened, they were met by several staff members.

“There you are!” Ana said with a bright smile and ran up to hug one of the people dressed in white. “I’ve missed you!” The blonde haired woman in a doctor’s coat looked clearly uncomfortable as she awkwardly hugged her patient.

“Ana,” the doctor said with a heavy sigh. “What have you done to yourself?”

“Don’t give up on me, doctor Karasovski. It’s just a little setback,” Ana replied.

“Norah!” Sarah hissed angrily and grabbed Norah by the arm. “What were you thinking?”

“If you hadn’t criticised me the way you did, I probably wouldn’t have run away,” Norah replied irritably and pulled her arm out of her sister’s grip.

“In what way did I criticise you?” Sarah questioned.

“Maybe the hospital isn’t the best place for you to meet new people,” Norah said irritably. “That’s what you said! But you know what? Lucy is one of my closest friends. We can talk about everything! And I’ve had more fun today with Ana than I’ve had in ages! I don’t care if you approve of my friendships, because they’re mine! Not yours!”

“Norah, I-” Sarah began to say, but got interrupted.

“I don’t care!” Norah said angrily and quickly headed back to her room. She crawled into the hospital bed and pulled the blankets over her head, like she used to do when she was a child and wanted to hide away from everything. She heard several people getting into the room.

“Norah,” she heard Ana say and immediately pulled away the covers to look at the skinny woman with purple hair. “I have to go now. I just wanted to say thank you for being such a wonderful person. Please take care of yourself.”

“You too,” Norah said and smiled sadly at Ana. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, darling. Don’t be sad. We’ll see each other again. I promise,” Ana said as her own eyes filled with tears.

“Not if you die,” Norah cried.

“I won’t die,” Ana assured her as she looked her straight in the eyes. “And you won’t either. Because you know what? One day, we’ll go out and have a milkshake together. Just like in the song. Okay?”

“Okay,” Norah agreed, wiping her tears away.

“Don’t be sad, Norah. I’ll be okay,” Ana told her before she sat down in a wheelchair to be transported to the psychiatric ward by the guard called Vera.

“Norah, are you okay?” Tom asked concernedly.

“I’ll be fine,” Norah replied and made herself stop crying. She had a strange feeling, like a foreboding that something bad would happen to Ana, and she couldn’t quite shake it off.

“Norah, I’m sorry I-” Sarah tried to say but Norah silenced her with an angry glare.

“I don’t care,” Norah said coldly.

Sarah sighed heavily, but didn’t say anything else.

“Perhaps you should try to fill in the papers,” Tom suggested after a long moment of uncomfortable silence. Norah grabbed the pen and the paper piles and began to fill them in.

“Let me know if you need any help,” Sarah offered, but Norah just shot her a glare in response.

Tom and Sarah eventually took up their phones to keep themselves occupied while Norah focused on the many pages with different questions and alternatives to fill in.

The hours passed by slowly. When a nurse aide arrived with lunch for Norah, Sarah and Tom decided to leave her alone to go to the cafeteria. Norah felt relieved that she was left unsupervised for the meal, with no one there to make her eat anything she didn’t want to eat. Instead of eating, she continued to fill in the papers until she was all done.

Then she laid down in the bed and listened to some music with the new headphones she got from Tom. He had made her two playlists on Spotify, one for running and one for just listening to the lyrics. Sometimes, like now, the lyrics felt spot on.

'I feel like no one ever told the truth to me About growing up and what a struggle it would be In my tangled state of mind I' ve been looking back to find Where I went wrong'

@o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @sassafras04 @nanarento @sidneydisneyq @siyoteodiara @banddorkmarie @highjackluv @midnight-polaroids @mediocretranquility @musicartmayheminmyheart @rip-taylors-reputation @littlegeneralamy @tiffanylcullen @twhiddlestonsstuff

Previous Chapter

#mental health problems #mental illness #he loves me not #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #borderline personality traits #bordeline personality disorder #unrequited love #TW depression #depression #anxiety #eating disorders #eating disorder #suicidal ideation #Suicide attempt #trigger warning suicide attempt #coming of age

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maybebanks · 4 years ago

Text

You Know I’m a Minor Chapter 07

Prev. chapter 06 Start at the beginning ch.01

This chapter is real angsty and dramatic!!

—-

You had to tell him. Things were weird between you and JJ, and you honestly missed being his best friend.

After taking a few hours to surf, you headed to John B’s place, assuming JJ would be there.

You didn’t knock, you were a pogue now, no need to awkwardly be let in.

JJ was lying face down on John B’s pull out. He was shirtless and when he heard you he groaned.

It was 2 in the afternoon.

“JJ,” you nudged him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to where he was lying.

“Have you been outside yet?” You asked, his hair was ruffled and messy and it seemed like he hadn’t left this ‘bed’.

“I have polio, bro. I can’t walk,” he mumbles.

You rolled your eyes.

“You smell good,” JJ compliments, finally sitting up. It was weird being with him, shirtless in bed.

“Huh?” You ask, he shrugged.

“You smell like the ocean. Catch some waves lately?” JJ questions.

You run some fingers through your still damp hair, “yeah well...Midsummers is coming up. Just trying to savor my final moments of freedom,”

“Midsummers is bullshit,” JJ adds. Hoping you’d laugh.

“Yeah, my dad wants me to go with him along with all the other working parties. I even have a dress-“

JJ scoffs at you, “you? In a dress?” You weren’t a Tom boy, he’d just never seen you in anything other than a t-shirt and shorts.

“You better believe it. Kie helped me pick it out,” you shrug.

He almost laughed again, but you stopped him, “I could make fun of you just as easily for wearing a suit,”

“It’s more of a butlers uniform, but suit yourself,”

“Oh my god, you corny piece of shit,” you joked, then jokingly shoved his face, he shoved you back and you began a gentle bickering fight.

He started to tickle you.

He enjoyed the sound of your laugh.

“Okay...um..stop!” You demanded, JJ looked back at you with an evil glint, he knew he won.

“Stop!” You shouted, dragging out the o’s.

JJs fingers stopped moving, he was staring still, at where his hands had just been.

“What the hell is that?” He was referring to the purple, gray and red array painted on your waist. It reached from your rib to the edge of your hip. Your shirt had ridden up in the fun of it.

“Nothing,” you deadpanned, pulling JJ’s hands farther away from you. You were practically on top of him, your chest was touching his, one of your legs above his.

You pushed back to get away. But his arms held you back.

“Let me go, JJ,”

“I saw the first one and I let it go. You promised it was nothing and it happened again!”

You shoved him back again, harder.

“Let me go!” You screamed.

His grip didn’t faulter. You were now straddling him, not on purpose, it just ended up that way.

“JJ! If you don’t get your hands off me right now I will fight you!!” JJ had never seen you more defensive.

He pushed you up a little and then jumped over to the left. His hands quickly met your waist again and he pushed you under him.

He was on top of you now, here he could hold you in place. He knew what it was like to push people away when he really needed them.

“John B!” You called, hoping he might be inside and reason with Jj.

“He’s not home,” JJ said.

“Get off me! You’re insane,”

“Y/n, tell me who did this. Tell me what happened,” JJ reasoned.

You looked up at him, blinking rapidly to fight tears.

“Get. Off.”

He sighed, you pushed at him again, he took your punches. You wanted him to get mad, to leave you alone. But he didn’t.

“Why do you care?!” your voice was scratchy. You were holding back the urge to sob. A few tears had escaped. You prayed JJ didn’t notice.

“You can talk to me, Y/n. You’re my friend, that’s why I care about you,”

“I don’t want to talk,” your lip betrayed you as it began quivering. Looking up at JJ made you feel vulnerable. Not that you could really see him well anyway, your watery eyes made everything blurry.

JJ gave you a sympathetic look, then slowly moved his arms, and got off of you. You were free now, to do what you would have done moments ago, run.

You couldn’t talk, you just studied JJ, hoping his facial expressions would explain why he was treating you differently than anyone else you’ve ever known.

Your mind was fighting a war. You couldn’t have him know about your dad. Figuring now was a good time to tell him about Ward, you close your eyes

“I ran into Ward at the Kook party,” you say, you didn’t know where you were going with this. Should you lie and blame the bruises on Ward? Or maybe Rafe? But what good would that do? It would just make JJ angry. Was he already angry?

You watched JJ, his fists clenched in this lap. He wasn’t looking at you. He muttered something like, “son of a bitch,” but that was all he said.

“It was just once,” you add, hoping that will make it better.

JJ still didn’t respond. Causing your mind to wander, and tears start to run down your cheeks like a racetrack.

“Are you...are you mad at me JJ?” You asked. You reached your shaking hand over to JJ’s and placed it on top of his fist.

JJ stares at your hand, he wasn’t used to you being so emotional. And truly, he didn’t know how to handle this, Ward was a much more powerful man than anyone.

“Not you Y/n,” he paused, finally his eyes locked with yours, he saw the many tears, he saw that you cared what he thinks, “not you,”

You engulfed JJ into a hug, your arms wrapped around his torso as sobs left you. You didn’t want to cry, but at this point you couldn’t hold it in.

“I love you so much, JJ,” you admit, hugging him tight. He was careful not to hurt you in the embrace, but he was there for you.

After what felt like an hour, you had calmed down, JJ had been there for you tonight. And you felt guilty, for lying. But you knew it would be worse if you told him your own father hurt you.

JJ convinced you to sleep at John B’s with him tonight.

You sat next to JJ by the fire, Sarah was there, but at this point, you had moved on. You only hoped Sarah didn’t hear the full conversation you had with Ward. The most dangerous fact being that Ward knew about your father.

Sarah had the others distaracted by her midsummer dilemma. But you were zoned out. Thinking about JJ, how you told him you loved him.

“You okay?” John B asks you, tapping your forehead.

Sarah eyes you suspiciously, she was confused and a little bit jealous in how close you and John B are. You saw it as she was waiting for the right moment to expose you.

“I-“ in that moment you were a target, you gulped visibly. Luckily, you felt a hand weave through your hand and intertwine with your fingers. JJ’s rings felt cold, but his gesture was warm.

“I’m just stressed,” you answer.

“Have JJ roll you a blunt,” Pope offers.

“Nah Pope she doesn’t smoke,” JJ says.

You feel stupid.

“Really Y/n? Why not?” Sarah asks, maybe she was trying to make small talk.

But you were offended, “don’t try and tell me you smoke, princess,” you spit, you were threatened by her, so you put your defenses up.

JJ squeezed your hand.

Sarah scoffs, “I’m surprised, I’ve seen your dad smoke loads of times, hell he even offered me. All the pogues do it,”

You looked at Kie for help, she was just starting at you, but not your face, your hand, intertwined with JJ’s.

So Sarah knew, why else would she bring up your father. And she must have seen him meeting with Ward, they were business acquaintances.

You reluctantly pulled away from JJ and left the camp fire scene. You slapped a skeeter that arrived on your wrist.

“Is there something your not telling me?” Kie’s voice asks from behind you. You turn around to face her, her facial expression laced with concern.

“I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about,” you said, it wasn’t in an angry way, though you were angry, that your friends hadn’t stood up for you.

“You and jj,” Kie responds.

“Oh,” you mumble. Kie was your best girl friend. You wanted to talk to her.

You swallowed your pride and pulled Kie into a hug, she laughed and accepted, “what’s going on babe?”

“Promise not to repeat this,” you pause.

She nods.

“But I told JJ I love him today. And when I thought it in my head it seemed like a friend would, but now I-I don’t know...”

“Holy shit! I can’t believe I thought you were into John B,” she scolded herself.

“I’m not. I just totally hate Sarah,” that wasn’t entirely true, she just felt like a sword hanging over your head.

“Oh c’mon, you know, while you were with JJ, I kinda made up with her on the boat,” Kie defends.

“Are you serious?” you question, clearly offended by your tone.

“She just shat on us pogues and you all looked the other way! That smoking BS! And bring up my fucking dad? Like what the fuck?”

“Yeah but-“

“But WHAT? John B’s known her for what, two days? And she’s just in on this now? Oh but it’s fine I guess, she’s a kook but she can still talk down on us pogues?” You vent sarcastically.

“At least she’s not a liar,”

“What the fuck is that suppose to mean?”

“We know what you’re keeping from us. You’ve been sneaking around with kooks and you say Sarah is two-faced?”

“That...that is so unfair,” you try, “I don’t know what you think you know-“

Sarah interrupted, “I heard you with my dad, Y/n. He’s giving you payments? For what?”

“I’m entitled to secrets,” you mutter, you were lost. Maybe your father was right, friends don’t have your back. No one does.

“Show them Y/n!” JJ approaches, you expected him to keep the earlier events private.

“No! JJ shut up-“

“Ward is not who you think he is, Sarah. I believe Y/n, he hurt her, physically,”

“My dad would never! Plus I saw everything that happened. Y/n is just being a shit talking bitch,” Sarah exclaimed, she felt accused.

JJ gave you an apologetic look, and then pulled your shirt up, to reveal the bruise for everyone to see. You quickly shoved him back, “what the hell is wrong with you!?”

Sarah stepped between you and JJ, she had tears in her eyes, “are you going to tell them? Because if you don’t I will,”

You knew exactly what she was referring to. Your heart snapped into pieces, your friends couldn’t know.

“What is she-“

“Sarah. Sarah, I’m sorry. Please. I’ll lose everything. I can’t lose them,” you sobbed. JJ put his hand on your shoulder.

“But you can’t blame it on someone else. Telling a lie doesn’t change the truth,” Sarah comforted.

You turned to face JJ, “I don’t deserve you JJ,”

“Y/n you won’t lose me-“

“It...it wasn’t Ward who did this to me,” you admit, “I’m just like you.”

Chapter 08

Taglist: @p0gue420 @kristinaxilliano @belledutchess @maebanks @omgpankow @kaylinfayezink @dolanfivsosxox @thesurfingsnail @obsessedweirdo @dudebroskiprn @milked-down-coffee @jjsthumbring @retr0babey @traumaflavouredjuulpod @write-from-the-heart @justcallmesams sorry if I missed u on the tags!

love you all so much🤍 thanks for reading:

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phantomato · 4 years ago

Text

“No.”

Thoros crossed his arms and stared down the very unwelcome sight in front of him. Only a week had passed since their last meeting. “No, Tom, this is my business, you can’t just make an appointment through someone else and accost me here. Get out.”

Tom ignored all of this and sat elegantly in the visitor’s chair across from Thor’s desk. The bloody nuisance might not be pretty, anymore, but he still knew how to move. Thoros began considering his options.

Should he call for his secretary?

“I am here on business, Thor. I’m offended you would assume I’d impose on your professional life for anything less.”

No, she wouldn’t help him oust Tom Riddle; she was too easily charmed. And he wasn’t ready to call the aurors for something like this. Should he set an ultimatum, get out or I’ll make you leave?

“I have an inquiry that requires a Master of Runes, and I happened to know the most talented ritualist and runes expert in the western hemisphere.”

No, Tom had been able to lay Thor out on his arse since they were children. He’d lose any contest if it actually came to a duel. He could activate the wards… those would work—

“Wait,” Thoros blurted out, “when did you upgrade me to best of the west?”

—

Busy seeing red, Ch. 3: [ao3]

#tom riddle #nott sr #hp fanfic

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 5 years ago

Note

13, 14 and 15 for the New Years ask thing?

13.) Most memorable Comment or Review?

On my fic, You Get What You Give: Ch. 37

HopeSilverheart:

Hii! Ah, so I've been refraining from commenting on this fic because I have a tendency to write long long comments and you get so many already I didn't want to bother you >.< But! I've been following this fic for ages now, the girls weren't even in Hogwarts when I joined along, and this is by far my favourite Tom/Harry fic, and maybe even my favourite HP fanfic overall. You have a way with words that amazes me, and all of your other fics are just as great, but this one has captovated me from the very beginning. I'm going to rant I'm sorry but I love this fic so much and I need to tell you how much I appreciate what you write!

I think what I like the most about the fic is the universe you've created... Without changing the universe at all. Everything is the same but nothing is the same, and I've never read a fic that changes things as well and realistically as this one does. Of course, nothing is truly realistic about magic, but your characters make everything seem possible. You didn't make Bella or Prue into some invincible witches, and you gave all of them flaws that are either already present in the original books or that fit perfectly with their character. The fact that both girls have this extraordinary power could make it seem as though they can do anything, but you tone it all down with the restrictions they face (their inability to focus on things they dislike).

And you've characterized Hermione in a way that I love, because instead of focusing on a 2-dimensional version of her that I'm so used to seeing, you made her into a - yes - incredibly smart girl but that doesn't just focus on her books. Hermione cherishes her friends and she looks to the outside, she plans and imagines and wishes for a better world, and that makes all of the difference. She cares about her classes, but she has ambitions behind that. In the original books, and in many fanfics, she simply comes off as a bookworm or even arrogant, but you didn't do that at all and I adore you for it! In this fic, we know what she wants to do, and she never acts like a pushover who simply tries to get her friends to work more: she's an invaluable part of their friend group, not only for her brain, but for who she is as a whole, and I don't know if I'm making any sense, but just know that I think you portrayed her perfectly. I especially love her letters with Amara, but I'll touch upon that a bit later.

Prue's characterization is the one I admire the most in your fic. At the beginning of the fic, she's easy to dislike; she cares about Quidditch only, we don't know much about her, and she got the "easy" life when Bella suffered alone. But then you add an entire other story to the fic and it changes everything! Lily and James' relationship and the way it influences Prue is - well horrible - but also fantastic. Because it means we get to see that everything Prue seemed to be was more like a shell of what she truly was. When her parents disappeared and she had to deal with everything, she started to become more and more likeable and now i love her! Especially her interaction with Salazar and the founders in this chapter! She spoke her mind and pointed out some very real things and that's one of the things I love the most about this fic! Although to be fair I love almost everything about it >.< And I was losing it when Helga was trying to hold back and Prue just quickly hurried out!

Then the stories you gave Neville and Theo!! Aah, it's always hard to deal with kids in bad situations, because it makes me feel so sad ): Honestly, Neville's whole home life breaks my heart. He's a kid who doesn't care for fighting but is being forced into it, and can't do anything about it :/ I loved the way you added Moody to his story, the way he actually helped Neville and trained him but wasn't harsh? He looked out for Neville in a way, and when you haev your whole family against you, one person can make a huge difference. AND a loyal group of friends makes a huge difference too! On Theo's side of things, it was very dark in the beginning, I mean his grandfather was awful, but I'm so glad he gets to live with Blaise and his mom now!

Which brings me to the group of friends! Wow, I mean, could you have created a better group? -

- Because I don't think so. You put together characters that we've seen in thousands of other fics, but in a combination that I don't think I've ever come across before. As you pointed out in this chapter, she gathered people who, like her, struggle with social interactions and don't find it easy to make friends, and that's why they fit so well together! They all had tough childhoods and their families weren't the best for the most part, and they met and yeah, they weren't suddenly best friends, but now they know they can count on each other and it's precious. I also like how you portrayed Bella in relation to the group in this chapter. We all know that Bella is their "leader" but I hadn't felt it until this chapter when they're without her and feel almost bare.

AH there's so much to talk about, I'm sorry this is so long! But Tom and Bella's relationship! Right, so it's pretty delicate to handle in most fics, because Tom is a lot older than Harry and you know... That causes issues. But you handled that problem in the best way. Because he was stuck in the diary for decades, Tom is fundamentally only 16 (or is it 17 now? I didn't follow along on his exact age). He wasn't really able to develop and mature when he was stuck in the diary, because how could he? So you tackled their age issue relatively well (there's always going to be some question of whether or not them being together romantically is appropriate and bla bla bla). And since Bella is aging faster, that makes things easier too! But their age aside, I love love love their dynamic in this fic!

Bella has always had this sassy, doesn't care about what people think, attitude, and it clashes to well with Tom's more traditional attitude, their earlier interactions were particularly fun to read, but now that they're friends and tease each other, it makes me so fond of them! They tell each other more than they tell anyone else, and it's so sweet to read! Their conversations are always full of sarcasm and learning and jokes, but when you think about what Tom is like, how Bella is his only friend, and how Bella cares about him so much no matter how much she makes fun of him: it's precious, okay! ): And I love you for making them into the best friendship. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to be so so happy when they start to see each other in a romantic light and all that (I mean, as if Tom would ever let anyone else have Bella) but I'm so glad you made their friendship so strong first!

Oh my god I could go on forever, there is so much to say about this fic, I'll never be done if I say it all! But the main thing that makes this fic different: how much of the muggle world you've incorporated into the magical one. It's not that Bella wants to stay in one only, it's that she cares about both of them. She has her friends in one world, with her magic and her roots, but then she has her job and future in the muggle world, and you give us the perfect blend of both worlds all the time! Bella makes people realise that the muggle world isn't too bad, not by saying "muggles are human too, we should care about them" but by saying "muggles can offer a lot, I am successful BECAUSE of the muggle world" and it works so well!

Her connection to Amara that led to the latter's friendship with Hermione (those two are such good friends it's amazing), and how we get news about the political situation through their letters, it's flawless! Nothing feels useless in what you write. There's letters and articles and writing and it's so well done! Plus, the addition of ice skating is genius! I don't know much about skating, but I sure know ten times as much now that I've read this fic! It's like a break from all the magic, but I never feel like it's boring or that I want it to stop: I love those moments when Bella does what she loves the most. Now that we've got competitions in the mix, it's even more fascinating!

OKAY, I could say so so much about this fic, I have too many things to say, but it's late and I'm sure you don't want to write an essay about this, but know that I am so thankful that you decided to write this fic. Thank you for the best Christmas gift ever this Tuesday, and for the extra chapter on NYE, thank you for writing! <333

14.) Fav fic you read this year?

The Historical Importance of Runic War Warding in the British Isles by samvelg. Harrymort, WOC-Harry, Drama, WIP.

15.) Fav fic author you read this year?

@samvelg-likes-things

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antiriko-arc · 8 years ago

Photo

please like me | 3x04 ↳ natural spring water

#tv: please like me #plmedit #please like me #please like me edit #josh thomas #thomas ward #keegan joyce #ch: josh #ch: arnold #ch: tom #these look so grainy idk if i like it /:#mine

444 notes · View notes

whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years ago

Text

1836 Oct[obe]r Sat[urday] 1

7 1/2

11 25/..

No kiss rainy morn[in]g and F40 1/2° at 8 1/2 – wr[ote] and s[e]nt note by John at 9 to ‘Mr. Mackean Yorksh[ire] Dist[ric]t Bank

H[alifa]x’ enclos[in]g the £50 b[ank] of E[ngland] I g[o]t in exch[ange] of A- [Ann] last night, and enclos[in]g als[o] a check for

£95 in their notes and £5 in silv[e]r - and ga[ve] John 3 lit[tle] bills to pay - A- [Ann] h[a]d Mr. Washingt[o]n

(in the h[ou]sekeeper’s r[oo]m) br[eak]f[a]st at 9 1/4 - A- [Ann] d[i]d h[e]r Fr[en]ch – ca[me] upst[ai]rs at 10 1/4 – wr[ote] the ab[ov]e of today -

a lit[tle] whi[le] w[i]th my a[un]t in the hall-cellar - out ab[ou]t 11 – w[e]nt to the Conery – 1/2 h[ou]r there settl[in]g ab[ou]t their mov[in]g to the

Lodge on Mon[day] - then at Walker pit – saunt[ere]d al[on]g the f[iel]ds hang[in]g hay etc. int[o] Pump Lane –

at the wheel-r[a]ce (nobody there) at Mytholm, ret[urne]d al[on]g Low[e]r brea wood, up by Low[e]r brea int[o]

the new r[oa]d to Wellroyde Lane, then b[a]ck d[o]wn the daisy bank f[oo]t[p]ath and along the walk and ho[me] at 3 1/4 –

h[a]d Mallins[o]n the joiner – speak[in]g to h[i]m ab[ou]t centres for the dry-arch Ingh[a]m is to ma[ke], he

s[ai]d by next Thurs[day] he sh[oul]d ha[ve] 10 y[ar]ds length (s[u]ch as I want[e]d (4ft. wide semicirc[ular]) - to spa[re] fr[om] a

dead arch at the Inf[irmar]y – ask[e]d wh[a]t he meant by dead arch – ans[we]r an arch block[e]d up and useless!

I express[e]d my astonishm[en]t at so m[u]ch val[ua]ble space being lost - M- [Mallinson] th[ou]ght it a gr[ea]t pity – n[o]t his

bus[ine]ss to sp[ea]k - I ask[e]d wh[o]se fault it w[a]s - M- [Mallinson] th[in]ks the comm[one]rs do n[o]t perh[aps] qui[te] und[er]st[a]nd the plan –

s[ai]d if I happ[ene]d to be in H[alifa]x I w[oul]d find it out for mys[elf] and then ment[io]n it – aft[e]r Mallins[o]n

h[a]d Ward who br[ou]ght a hare and br[a]ce of part[ridge]s for w[hi]ch ga[ve] h[i]m 2/6 and his bill up to yest[erday] – p[ai]d it and the on[l]y hare he h[a]d seen –

took h[i]m int[o] the walk and shew[e]d him the lilac alread[y] gnaw[e]d by rabbits – s[ai]d I w[oul]d leave

it to h[i]m to charge for his ti[me] b[u]t sh[oul]d be gl[a]d to pay h[i]m if he w[oul]d on[l]y dest[roy] all

the rabbits that ca[me] near – f[ou]nd Rob[er]t Mann wait[in]g for me - Long talk (walk[in]g up and

d[o]wn the flags in front of the h[ou]se - my feet ver[y] wet) ab[ou]t the coll[ier]y – ment[ione]d driv[in]g a

galloway gate - or hav[in]g an inclin[e]d plane and a sm[all] high press[ure] engine to bring the

coal out just on this side the archway in the Godley r[oa]d - told h[i]m to calc[ulate] the exp[ense] and

wheth[e]r it w[ould] pay - he agreed w[i]th me the coal w[oul]d be worth mo[re] by a penny a

load - told h[i]m to calculate als[o] the exp[ense] of driv[in]g 2 heads (3ft. 6in. high and

c[oul]d n[o]t be less than 4ft. wide at the bot[tom]) up to Walker pit – calculat[e]d 3000 y[ar]ds

besides coal, w[oul]d co[me] out - to be laid ag[ain]st Mytholm br[idge] (tow[ar]ds Medley park)

ab[ou]t 10 or 12 y[ar]ds of the brook being arch[e]d over - told h[i]m to consid[e]r ab[ou]t all this

and gi[ve] me an est[a]te of the work, a pr[ice] at w[hi]ch he c[oul]d engage to do it - and to consid[e]r ab[ou]t

the val[ue] of the coal that I might keep this mind at the lett[in]g day - coal is ris[in]g – Wilson

of quarry h[ou]se h[a]d told Rob[er]t it w[oul]d be 11d. a load this wint[e]r - I s[ai]d it w[oul]d be a shil[lin]g

wh[a]t w[i]th railr[oa]ds steam engines and 1 th[in]g or oth[e]r - Whitworth told me (at Walk[e]r pit)

the coal there w[a]s worth p[e]r score 5/. gett[in]g and 2/6 pull[in]g and exp[ense] of tools etc. = 7/6 p[e]r score =

4 1/2d. p[e]r exp[ense] of gett[in]g and pull[in]g etc - W- [Wilson] agreed that 1d. p[e]r load clear profit w[a]s qui[te] en[ou]gh - yes! th[ou]ght

I and less – 1/2d. p[e]r load clear profit ver[y] well – supp[ose] 4 l[oa]ds p[e]r y[ar]d = 16160 l[oa]ds p[e]r ac[re] at 1/2d.

= £33.13.4. clear prof[i]t p[e]r ac[re] – h[a]d the H[alifa]x sawyer (Hainsw[or]th’s) and p[ai]d h[i]m for this week – dress[e]d

(my f[ee]t ver[y] wet and my clothes wet r[oun]d the bot[tom]) - A- [Ann] ver[y] poorly – ver[y] b[a]d cold com[in]g – din[ner] at 7-

Mr. Jubb ca[me] at 7 1/2 - my a[un]t m[u]ch the sa[me] b[u]t her pulse 112 tonight - Mr. Jubb saw A- [Ann] she h[a]d a

gr[ea]t deal of fev[e]r – h[a]d eat[e]n no din[ner] - to s[e]nd for med[i]cine and get h[e]r to bed aft[e]r hav[in]g h[a]d her f[ee]t in hot

where to put drift stuff. profit p[e]r ac[re] on coal to the taker etc.

221

1836

Oct[obe]r

[water] 20 min[ute]s - she took 1/2 a cup of tea – b[a]ckw[ar]ds and forw[ar]ds w[i]th h[e]r and my a[un]t - saw A- [Ann] in bed at 9 55/..

then wr[ote] the last 8 lines - ver[y] rainy night - rainy morn[in]g and rainy day till fair bet[ween] 2 and 3 then

mere[l]y a light show[e]r or 2 till aft[e]r din[ner] – F[ahrenheit] 44° and rain[in]g hard now at 10 10/.. p.m.

0 notes

aivaehdaevis · 5 years ago

Text

The More Things Change: Ch 10

The More Things Change

by Aivaeh

Disclaimer: Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it. Summary: I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert. Pairing(s): OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus Rating: M Warning(s): Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death. Master List External Links: AO3 | FF.Net | Wattpad

Chapter Ten

A chill haunted me the entirety of the drive to the Boarding House. It spread throughout my limbs as if I were freezing as night’s shadows rushed by beyond the window. If it wasn’t being exorcised from Elena’s body, it might’ve been the silence emanating from the front seat. The occasional flicker of Damon’s stare in the rearview mirror. The way Stefan kept combing his hand through his hair. With the radio off the car was quiet. Only the whisper of the road beneath the tires to fill the silence.

Despite the soft lighting, the Boarding House loomed over the grounds once night had fallen. Damon pulled around where a carriage house once stood, renovated into a garage. The camaro glided inside. Once the car shut off, his eyes sought me out in the mirror. “Home sweet home.”

I pulled my jacket tighter around me, as if that might ward off the frost filling my veins.

Stefan was the first out. His eyes were shadowed beneath a brooding brow, his lips turned into a slight frown. He left the garage without a backwards glance.

Damon’s reflection tracked him. “Hm.” Crinkles appeared around his eyes. “Been too long since he snapped a neck or two.”

My brows pulled low. “That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.” Damon stretched his own neck out and added, “Now. About those answers—”

I pushed my way out of his car, shivering a little as the night air brushed against me. “Can we do this inside?”

Damon was out and leaning against the door as soon as it banged shut. “Not going to do anything weird, are you? Like make strange nests dripping with goo or pop out of anyone’s chest?”

I fixed him with a flat, distinctly unamused look. “I told you, I’m human.”

His eyes widened as he leaned the slightest bit forward. “Maybe you’re just saying that. Trying to fool me. And the instant I let my guard down, you’re going to spit out a face hugger.”

“If I was going to plant an egg down your throat, I think I’d have done it this afternoon,” I pointed out tartly.

His lips firmed into a line before stretching into a wry smile. “Good point.” He extended an arm. “After you.”

A cobblestone path to the main house guided me across the lawn. Damon hurried forward to open the door for me, waiting until I’d passed then following. I paused, letting him take the lead once we were both inside.

Damon took an immediate left, towards the room he’d emerged from the day before, during his little sorority get together. Taking hold of double doors, he swung them open in one grand push.

The room beyond was familiar. From the wet bar at the far side, to the fireplace that dominated the center and pulled in the eye. The walls were hidden behind bookshelves that stood as tall as the ceiling. The furniture was all antique, perfectly upkept as they shone in the light from the standing and overhead lamps, alongside the two large windows to either side of the fireplace. It smelt of woodsmoke, leather, and the faintest hint of aged paper.

I wasn’t surprised when Damon’s first stop was the bar. Glass clinked together as he lifted a decanter of what I supposed was bourbon. Pouring himself a generous portion, he took a long sip before his attention settled in my direction. “Help yourself.”

My boots sank into the plush rug that covered the entire length of the room. As soon as I was close enough to reach out and pluck a glass, Damon indicated a bottle with a wave of his drink. “Tequila’s there.”

I picked it up. The label was in Spanish, and I’d never gotten beyond the first year in high school to translate it. But it was the deepest gold I’d ever seen, almost an ochre. Lifting the tumbler to my lips, I breathed in the sharp scent and tilted back the whole thing. It was smooth as cream on my tongue and flowed down my throat like water. I didn’t stop, swallowing mouthful after mouthful, until the whole of the glass was gone.

Damon sipped at his glass as I refilled mine. “So. Now that you’ve gotten a few shots of my five-hundred-dollar tequila down to calm the nerves, want to start from the beginning?”

I didn’t even feel bad about downing such expensive liquor. Wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. “Where’s Stefan?”

Damon’s head tilted back towards the ceiling. “Brooding in his room.”

“Should I wait for—”

“He’ll hear you,” he assured me.

I pressed my lips together and stared into the liquid sunset held within the tumbler. “There’s not much to tell beyond what I’ve already said. You know what I know.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Damon wandered to a chesterfield sofa. “This future knowledge business, for example.” He sat down, one arm stretching out across the back.

I sidled towards a bookshelf. “Okay, so there’s that.”

“Then you do know the future?”

I took in the first titles I my sights fell upon. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The Prince and the Pauper. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. “That depends. I thought so, but things are—different.”

Using his nearly full tumbler, Damon gestured for me to continue.

“For starters? Sheila and Isobel shouldn’t be dead.” I slid Huckleberry partway from the shelf. It had been bound in an olive-green fabric, inlaid with gold. An old-fashioned illustration graced a corner of the cover, but the binding showed little wear. I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn it was a first edition. “Things have been changing since my first day. You were never supposed to corner Elena in an antique shop. Or take her home. Or basically do any of the things you’ve done.” I took another deep draught. “Elena meets Stefan first. At least as far as she knows. They end up dating. Not—” I waved a hand between us, “whatever the hell this is.”

“Hm.” His finger tapped the side of his glass. “So you know a future.”

I slid the book back onto the shelf. “Yeah.”

“How?”

“Does it matter?” I inwardly cringed at the thought of explaining all of this was a television show.

Damon gave a one-armed shrug. “I’m curious.”

He asked for it. “Where I’m from, your lives are a story.”

Damon’s brows lifted in interest. “And you’ve read it.”

I grimaced, admitting, “And watched it.” I grabbed my bicep, rolling my shoulders forward in a half-hug. “This seems to be based on the—television version.”

Damon’s head tipped all the way back onto the back of the couch, a smirk gracing his face as he said, “I am very captivating.”

I tell him he’s a fictional character, and instead of triggering some existential crisis, he makes it about how amazing he is. Figures. “Hardly anything’s followed the versions I know.”

“Do you know why I’m here?” he asked, a quiet intensity sharpening the question.

I hesitate. “Yes.”

Damon’s eyes blazed. “Does it work?”

I take another drink. “Yes,” I rasp. Triumph and jubilation light up his face. He looks younger, softer and shining. I hate that I can’t leave him on cloud nine. “But it’s one of those things where getting what you want makes you miserable.”

“I’m not saying we won’t have issues to work out,” Damon said. “A hundred and forty-five years is a long time to be single, but what relationship doesn’t take a bit of work?”

My bottom lip curled between my teeth. Did I correct him? Seemed like a good way to goad his temper. But if I didn’t, and he found out later, I was certain I’d end up injured or dead. I squeezed the glass in my hand. “She’s not in the tomb, Damon.”

For a moment Damon stilled, eyes piercing mine as he processed my words. I knew he understood when he launched himself off the couch. He prowled into my space, tall and looming and dominating. Light-headed, I found it impossible to move. “What do you mean,” he asked quietly, “she’s not in the tomb?”

My mouth was parched despite the tequila clinging to my tongue. I swallowed. “Katherine was never in the tomb. She’s been free this whole time.”

Damon shook his head, denial deepening the set of his frown and the steep furrow of his brow. “No. She would’ve heard about us. Would’ve looked for us.” The tundra of his eyes thawed and glistened as the frost melted. Beneath the ice lay such raw emotion that the merest glimpse stole my breath. “For me.”

I didn’t know what to tell him, and I couldn’t bare the nakedness of his stare. I peered into my drink, wishing I could divine something comforting to say.

Glass shattered. I jumped and lifted my eyes. Damon’s vampiric features became all I could see. He grabbed my jacket’s lapels, hiking me up and shoving me into the bookshelf hard enough to force the air from my lungs. My glass hit the floor, filling the space between us with the fumes of tequila that mixed with his bourbon laden breath.

I reached up and grabbed his wrist, terror raking ice-cold claws over me. “Damon!”

“You’re lying,” he insisted, pain sharpening every line of his face.

“I wish I was,” I insisted through chattering teeth.

Damon’s snarl stretched wider as Stefan appeared, arm around Damon’s neck as he tried to force him back. “Damon!”

Damon scowled, but let me go. He grabbed his brother’s forearm instead, yanking it away. Stefan’s arm shook as Damon’s fingers dug in mercilessly, till the pale skin turned bleached white. Damon turned and took Stefan’s throat. The next thing I knew there was another crash of glass and the two vampires were gone.

Gasping with my hand pressed to my chest, I scanned the room for either brother. One of the large windows was broken. Most of its glass had been smashed out and the wooden frame was cracked and splintered. I rushed over, mindful of the edges as I gripped the sill to lean over and look out on the yard.

Damon and Stefan stood face to face, several feet apart. Blood was smeared across their faces as they glared at one another.

“Is that why you came back? Why you killed all those people?” Stefan demanded, anger curled up in his voice, darkening his words. “For Katherine?”

Damon’s lips stretched until he was baring his teeth. “You never deserved her!”

Stefan stared as if his brother were speaking an entirely different language he couldn’t begin to comprehend. “She compelled us, Damon!”

“She never compelled me!”

In the quiet that followed, I could hear the whispering of the grass. Leaves brushed against one another. A moth fluttered by, attracted by the light spilling through the window. Stefan looked as if a final piece of a long worked and elusive puzzle had finally snapped into place. The picture it created was one to be pitied.

“I knew what she was. What she planned. She shared all of it with me.” Damon spoke as if every word was dragged through a throat full of thorns, leaving each one raw and bloody. My throat tightened in sympathy. “She wouldn’t abandon me!” His eyes labeled me as the worst sort of sinner. “It’s a lie!”

Stefan’s frown was thoughtful. When he spoke again, it was to me. “Tell Damon something only he would remember. If you know that much about us, prove it.”

I had to remind myself that I didn’t need to raise my voice. “I already have. He almost killed Jeremy for it.”

Damon’s lips curled into a scowl. “I told you, you’re—”

“If it wasn’t true,” I said softly, barely speaking above a whisper, “it wouldn’t have made you so angry.” I straightened. “But if you want something else,” I thought for a moment and drudged up an event from the show I was sure Damon hadn’t shared with Stefan. “During the War, Stefan sent you a letter that worried you enough to ask for leave to go home and see him. Your commander offered to grant it if you took on a mission rounding up deserters. You agreed.” Damon’s eyes widened. “It led you to a farmhouse where a family had hidden two confederates. When you tried to take them into custody, the family drew weapons on you. You killed them.”

Damon stared at me. Stefan stared at Damon.

Suddenly, the spot where Damon had stood was empty.

Stefan’s attention fell on me. “It’s true.”

“Do you want proof?”

Stefan rubbed his forehead. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Chicago. The closet.”

He stilled a moment and nodded. “I’m surprised you ever agreed to be alone with me.”

“I had concerns,” I admitted. “But you aren’t like that.” Now.

Stefan glanced away. After a moment, he crossed the lawn to the window. “What happened with Katherine?” he asked as he climbed back inside.

I stepped back as he started brushing grass off his clothes. “There was a tomb beneath the church that Emily spelled using the comet that had passed over. The vampires would wait within it until the comet passed by again, charging a crystal with enough power to undue the spell. But Katherine never went in. She told a guard she’d turn him and escaped. The others are still locked inside by magic, desiccated.”

“Sounds like Katherine.” Stefan, eyes narrowed, frowned. “If you know she wasn’t in the tomb, Damon must have opened it. And you said the other vampires were locked away.” I was surprised he’d pieced that together himself, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been. Stefan was clever. “Were they released?”

“Yes.”

“We need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I don’t think it will.” I lowered my head. “Sheila helped remove the barrier.”

Stefan looked at his hands and took a breath. “That doesn’t mean Damon won’t find another witch.”

I thought of Bree. And there was still Bonnie, even though she hadn’t come into her full power yet. And once he got the crystal, he might not need a lot of power. “I suppose.”

“What else do you know?”

I stared. “Stefan, there were over a hundred and seventy episodes.”

His brows lifted. “And you watched them all?”

I flushed and chose not to comment. “I don’t know how much is already different.” I shook my head. “The smallest changes are spiraling out of control. I had no idea tonight would happen. Sheila and Isobel should be alive.” My look was grim. “Their deaths are going to change things.”

Stefan stepped to the fireplace. “Let’s start with what you know about them.” He crouched down and moved several pieces of wood onto the grill.

“Actually, there’s something else we need to discuss first.” Stefan paused and peered over his shoulder. Crossing the room, I joined him at the mantel and sat beside him. “They’re called the Originals.”

The sun was up by the time I finished. Despite a steady flow of juice and tequila that required several bathroom breaks, my throat was dry from so much talking. Stefan had listened carefully, only interrupting for clarification.

Within the first half hour he had a blank journal open and was taking notes.

Brows drawn and mouth turned into a slight frown, he hadn’t stopped writing. The scratch of pen on paper filled the rest of the room while I sat on the floor and stared into the dying fire’s embers. The look on Sheila’s face, the fury in Elena’s stare—the two faces haunted me no matter how much tequila I’d drank.

The front door opened while it was still early. I knew who it was before I twisted around.

Damon was leaning against the doorway, arms folded. “We’re opening the tomb.”

I stood. Stefan, shutting the journal, rose with me. I walked up until I was standing beside him. “Damon, Katherine’s not—”

“I’ll see for myself.” Lips pressed into a determined line and eyes bright with certainty, Damon lifted a hand. “I’ll do it with or without your help. And who knows, maybe a few other vampires will get out if someone’s not there to watch me.”

Stefan started forward but stopped as I pressed my hand against his chest. “Alright. I’ll help you. But I have terms.”

Damon’s head dipped to the side as he chuckled. “Terms?”

I answered with a firm nod. “Yeah. And you’ll agree to them, because otherwise, you’re going to have a hell of a time getting inside.” I was pretty sure Emily was still determined to stop him. And this time he didn’t have Sheila.

Damon’s lips pursed. After a moment’s thought, he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered down the steps. “Let’s hear them.”

“You leave Elena’s family and friends alone, Damon. And the killing? It stops.”

His mouth twisted into a smile. “What if you’re kidnapped again?”

“You know what I mean.”

He held up his hands. “Fine. Agreed. Sip and erase. What else?”

I was surprised that he’d agreed to the no killing term so easily. I blinked, thoughts racing over the possibilities. “You don’t take off after you find out that she’s not in the tomb. You stay here, in Mystic Falls.”

Both brothers’ eyes narrowed. “Small towns aren’t really my thing,” Damon said.

“You want my help?”

“Fine,” he groused through clenched teeth. “Anything else? My firstborn?” He rolled back on his heels. “Oh, wait. Vampires can’t procreate. Going to have to strike that demand off the list, Rumpelstiltskin.”

I’ve shown more good humor at a funeral. “You don’t feed on or compel me ever again.”

“You sure?” He asked, leering at my neck. Stefan took a step forward, prepared to go toe to toe with Damon. Damon leaned back and lifted both hands back up with fingers spread. “Fine.” His demeanor brightened. “So, Rumple, how are we getting in?”

“Aside from the crystal, there’s a grimoire.” I paused before admitting, “Buried with your father.”

Stefan and Damon exchanged a surprised glance. “Clever witch,” Damon muttered.

“Who’s going to be pissed. She’s already planning on destroying the amulet.” Damon’s gaze darkened. “You’re going to have to make sure Bonnie gets nowhere near it. Which won’t be easy.” I frowned. “Emily has the ability to affect this world from the Other Side.”

“We need to take precautions against spirits as it is,” Stefan pointed out. Then again, he knew about Esther and the real Elena. “Elena says you know a witch.”

“I know a couple. One of whom even talks to me,” Damon smirked.

“There are whole covens of them in New Orleans, but I’m not certain they’d help,” I said. “If we’re lucky, there may be something in Emily’s grimoire.”

“We stick to Damon’s friend,” Stefan decided. “We need something to ensure they can’t spy on us.”

“I’d better head out soon, then. Georgia’s a drive.” Damon’s brows rose. “You can dig up dear ol’ dad, can’t you, Stefan? Seeing as it was you who put him six feet under in the first place.”

Stefan fixed Damon with an unamused stare. “I’ll get the grimoire.”

Damon’s keys jangled as he pulled them from his pocket. “Then I’ll take care of the ghosts.” He looked to me. “Though, we might have another problem. When I went back to clean up, John wasn’t in the basement.”

“I figured.”

Damon’s brow furrowed. “You knew he’d be a zombie?”

“He’s not a zombie,” I corrected. “He’s got a ring that brings him back to life whenever something supernatural kills him.”

Damon became incredulous. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? I could’ve taken it off him!”

“First of all, it only works on humans, so it’d be useless to you. Second, I knew you’d put him down permanently.” I glowered. “And you agreed, no killing family.”

“And when he kidnaps you again?” Damon asked, a snide curl to his lips.

“She’ll stay with us,” Stefan said. “Until we figure out a way to handle John.”

Damon scoffed. “Have fun telling her aunt that her seventeen-year-old niece is shaking up here. With her twenty-five-year-old boyfriend.” He pulled sunglasses out of his jacket’s inner pocket. “I’m sure that’ll go over great.” He unfolded the temples and arched a brow. “I know times have changed, Stefan, but I don’t think they’ve changed that much.”

Stefan folded his arms. “If you have a better idea, now’s the time to share, Damon.”

“This would be so much easier if we killed him,” Damon pointed out in a reasonable tone. At my glower, he held up a hand. “Just saying.”

“There are other ways to deal with John,” I said.

“I suppose we could kidnap him, for a change. Put him in one of the cells downstairs until the vervain is out of his system.”

Stefan’s tipped his head to the side. “It’s… not the worst idea.” He admitted this grudgingly.

“Hello, Zach!” Damon called, smirking.

Zach stood in the doorway, a slump to his shoulders and a dull sheen in his eyes. “I didn’t hear any of this.”

“Probably for the best,” Damon agreed amiably.

Zach wandered away. Damon and Stefan exchanged a long look. “Should one of us stay here with Elena while the other looks for John?”

“Wait.” Their attention fell on me. “All of John’s things are back at Elena’s.”

“He knows I can come in,” Damon pointed out. “If he’s smart, he’s used the evening to pack up and get out.”

I thought about the John Gilbert from the show and shook my head. “He’s arrogant. Prideful. The ring makes him feel invulnerable.” I felt sure he’d still be there.

The brothers exchanged another glance. Stefan shrugged. “It’s worth a look.”

“I’ll drive,” Damon announced, jiggling his keys and striding off for the door.

Stefan followed, pausing as I headed after him. Both brothers ended up staring me down. I lifted my chin. “I’m going too.”

Stefan took a moment, thinking. “She’ll be safer with us.”

Damon sighed and looked to the ceiling. “Fine.” He pointed to me. “But you do as we say.”

I nodded. “Alright.”

Satisfied with my assurance, the three of us headed out to the garage.

The camaro glided slowly up the street until the Gilbert house came in view. I felt vindicated at the sight of a certain silver Passat in the driveway. “He’s here. Or his car is, at least.”

“So he’s an idiot,” Damon concluded, rolling up into the driveway beside John’s car.

“He doesn’t have the device already, does he?” Stefan wondered, turning to look at me.

“What device?” Damon asked.

“Apparently there’s a council made up of the founding families. They’ve been passing down knowledge of vampires through the generations, along with a few hunting tools Johnathan Gilbert invented,” Stefan explained.

“It was actually Emily spelling them,” I reminded him.

Stefan nodded in my direction. “One of them was a box of some kind. It emits a noise that overwhelms supernatural creatures. Disables them.”

“Guess you two did a lot of talking last night,” Damon’s tone was sour.

“You shouldn’t have run off,” Stefan shot back.

“Oh, I think you should be glad I did,” Damon answered darkly.

“Guys. Focus.” As they quieted down, I went on. “I don’t think he’s had the time to collect all the pieces. For some reason, the council took it apart and made sure each family got a part to hold on to.”

“Only one way to find out,” Damon said.

The three of us climbed out of the car and followed the sidewalk around to the side entrance. At the steps, I could hear the clang of pots and pans beyond the door. John must have been in the kitchen.

Stefan pushed me behind him and nodded to Damon. Damon stilled, listening. Satisfied with whatever he’d heard, he took hold of the door and flung it open.

John stood in front of the counter, chef’s knife in hand and a spread of vegetables arrayed on a cutting board in front of him. “Good morning.”

A collective hesitation passed through the three of us as we glanced at one another. John looked to us with a smile and returned to the onion he had on the board. He pressed the tip of the knife in, sliding it through the crisp white flesh. “I was wondering when you’d be home,” he paused, a smirk flickering onto his face as he drawled out, “E-lay-nah.”

My brows cinched tight together. “You didn’t think I’d run for it?”

John chuckled. “No.” He swept up a handful of chopped onion onto the edge of the blade and carried it over to the pan, where he dropped it in with a hiss. “This is where you’ve always wanted to be, isn’t it?” Using a spatula, he mixed the onions around as they sizzled. “Isn’t that why, of all the souls the spell could have taken, yours was chosen?”

“Figured it was luck of the draw.” The bad kind.

Slipping his finger along the side of the knife, he shook his head. “No such thing.”

Damon took a step forward. “Well, John, fascinating as this all is, you’re coming with us.”

“Am I?” John asked, spinning back to the counter. “And I thought you were here to kill me.”

Damon shrugged. “I’ve been overruled. We’re taking you to our place instead.”

“Must be frustrating. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take a crack at it, Damon?”

He scoffed. “I know about your ring.”

“Obviously.”

Stefan and I exchanged another glance.

“Is that what’s stopping you?” He drove the knife into the cutting board so hard the thunk of the point sinking deep into the wood made me jump. The knife wobbled as he turned, showing us his hand. With a bit of twisting and tugging, pulled the ring off his finger. “There,” he said, tossing it to a stunned Damon. Absently, Damon reached up and caught it.

Staring at John, skepticism shuttered Damon’s gaze. “I made a deal.”

“How uncharacteristically honorable of you.” John replied, shutting off the stove. “Just let me clean up.” He smiled over his shoulder at us. “Waste not…”

“Pack up his things, Elena.” Stefan ordered in a quiet murmur. Speaking up, he added, “I’ll take his car.”

“Be careful with it,” John replied. “It’s a rental.”

“You’ll be alright?” Stefan asked Damon.

Damon strode over to the counter and yanked the chef’s knife free of the cutting board. He angled the blade as he examined it. “Plenty of space in the trunk for a body.” He kept the knife up as he gripped John by the shoulder and forced him around. “Trust me.” Knife near John’s throat, a knowing grin stretched across Damon’s face.

John smiled back, not a hint of tension in his face or body.

I carefully rounded around them both and scurried for the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Reaching the guest room next to the master bedroom, I swept my hair back behind my ears as I headed for the closet. His suitcase was inside, along with a few clothes on the hangers. Pulling the suitcase free, I laid it on the made-up bed and started stuffing the clothes from the closet inside. Once I had it emptied, I dug through the dresser’s drawers.

When I couldn’t find any more of John’s belongings, I shoved the suitcase’s lid down. I hadn’t folded his clothes, so it took a bit of wrestling with the zipper to get it shut. It was my first kidnapping, but I doubted I had the time to pack his things up any neater.

It took both hands to lug the suitcase back down the hall and the stairs. By the time I reached the kitchen, the food and pans were gone, along with John and Damon. A rumble from the dishwasher suggested someone had loaded it. I had trouble picturing Damon doing something so domestic, but I couldn’t believe he’d let John load it, either.

Hauling the luggage outside, I reached the steps and the morning air in time to see Damon slamming the trunk shut.

“Here,” I said, bringing the suitcase to him.

“I’ll take it,” Stefan said from the silver passat parked next to the camaro.

Damon fixed his sunglasses back on his nose as he reached out and took the suitcase from me. Naturally he lifted it as if it were filled with styrofoam. He shot a smirk at a frowning Stefan as he lifted it over the back door and set it between the seats.

Damon’s smugness and Stefan’s suppressed frustration confused me. They acted as if Damon had won some kind of battle.

These two. Sometimes they were just strange.

“I’ll drop off John and head out,” Damon said, strutting to the driver’s seat. He met my gaze over the tops of his sunglasses. “Want to come?”

“She has school.” Stefan made it clear this was the end of the conversation.

Damon glanced over. “C’mon, Stef. Girl was kidnapped and woke up to a bunch of dead bodies.”

“And was manhandled by an unstable vampire,” Stefan added, voice dark.

“See?” Damon’s grin was wide and carefree. “She’s earned a skip day.”

“Not with you,” Stefan shot back.

“Oh? Should she go digging up a skeleton instead? Sounds like loads of fun.” Damon turned back to me. “Where I’m going, there’s a bar.”

“Actually,” I began with a sigh, “I was going to get some sleep.”

Damon shrugged and turned the engine. “Suit yourself,” he said, shifting the car into reverse and backing out.

Stefan wandered next to me as I watched Damon disappear down the street. Concern radiated from him as he met my glance. “You’ll be alright?”

“So long as John’s locked up, who else could know?”

Stefan frowned. “Esther and Elena. The other Elena,” he corrected.

I looked to the driveway and noticed a small crack running between one of the slabs. I wondered if it had been there before the Gilberts’ deaths. “They could cause problems wherever I am.” I took a breath and looked back up. “But I need a few hours. I’ll see if I can make lunch and the rest of the day.”

Stefan gave a reluctant nod. “I should be done by then.”

“You’re not going to get caught, digging up a body during the day?”

“It’s fairly secluded where Father’s buried. And even if I’m spotted, I have enough strength for a light compulsion.”

“You should try to make it in time for Tanner’s class.” At his curious glance, I shrugged. “You know, you’re supposed to join the football team today.” I couldn’t hold back a sly smile.

Stefan looked aside, giving me a good view of his unfairly handsome profile. “Yeah. That’s not going to happen.”

“But it’s essential to the future, Stefan.”

He fixed me with a flat stare. “Is this about the uniform?”

My smile widened into a full grin. “Maybe.”

Stefan shook his head and wandered back to the passat. He paused after opening the door, glancing over a shoulder. “Have fun at cheer practice.”

“Evil,” I muttered, too low for human ears. Stefan sent me a smirk better suited for his brother as the door shut.

I waited until he drove off before heading back inside and heeding the siren call of Elena’s bed.

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