Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1
The storm was raging in the field we set camp. My friend Allyssa had warned us that the battle against the Satterfield Coven would not end well but our leader insisted that we were capable to come out victorious. The years had made her arrogant and while I completely disagreed with most of her decisions nowadays, I couldn’t bring myself to leave after everything we have been through together.
She had been a great guide to me when I discovered my powers, and I wouldn’t have come this far without her by my side. A mother figure and a great teacher but, after she lost her daughter, Claire, to the war it’s like a dark cloud settled above her and her grief made her dark. I can still hear the words she whispered to me when I lost my father, the only family I had left, “Remember Daphne the reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again, but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.” Such words had deeply angered me back then, I was so consumed by the loss that my stupid teenage self lashed out at everyone. Now I understand what she meant, and I wish I could help her with her own demons, but she pushed everyone away and focused on keeping the war going until we have won.
Maybe it was my guilt that stopped me from leaving, if only I had been there when Claire was ambushed by 4 enemy witches, if only I knew how to comfort my only mother figure when that happened. Alas, I was too weak to help, to be there, to do the right thing at the right time. So, I pushed myself to help win this war, to avenge my fellow witches that suffered in the hands of the enemy and as I grew stronger and won many battles this war felt more pointless, never-ending, by the day. It just did not make sense; we were the same why couldn’t we live peacefully and be allies? Some called me a pacifist but after everything I have done, I do not believe I have the right to be called that.
In the distance I could see the enemy approach our camp. I felt my heartbeat skyrocket, hundreds of witches, more than we could ever expect made up the enemy lines. How did our seers not see this, had they found a way to block us from their decisions? I turned to my leader, and I could see her resolve steel in her eyes, I felt it in my magic, we would not back down. Taking a deep breath I called my powers forward, connected with the earth and teleported to the middle of the battle just as the enemy did. ‘This will not end well’ I thought activating a shield to stop the fireball a witch sends my way.
The battle continued until nightfall, and I was severely injured, the most I have been in my life and my powers were leaving me, I had depleted them after so many hours. Allyssa had been right, we lost the battle, only 10 percent of our forces alive I can feel my strength leaving me succumbing to my injuries. I can’t believe this is how I will die, in a battlefield, or maybe I had been delusional to think this war wouldn’t take me too who knows.
A body dropped down next to me, and I could hear my leaders voice crying over me screaming as she poured her energy into my body. But I knew she could not heal me, the wounds are too deep, a broken rib had punctured my lung and I could feel the blood in my mouth choking me. She pushed harder and darkness clouded my vision,
“I love you” I whispered before the darkness consumed me.
It felt peaceful, like I was floating, the pain gone completely, and I let that feeling guide me where I meant to go. Warmth covered my body and as I floated, I suddenly felt myself falling to the ground though a white opening.

Mystic Falls, Virginia
Daphne Forbes, 10 years old
“Daphne, get down the tree immediately.” My mother, Liz Forbes, shouted at me.
“But mom, the tree is my friend and she asked me to” I whined. She crossed her arms and gave me that look of clear disappointment she always put on when I went against her. I knew that if I didn’t climb down now, she would lecture me for hours about how dangerous it is to climb trees unsupervised and how plants don’t really speak but I could hear them. It started recently and it isn’t that they say words and phrases to me, but I can feel their intentions. When I touch them it’s like I can instinctively feel what they want from me and what they are trying to tell me. Of course, when I told my mother this, she thought I’m just imagining things and I need more friends, so I don’t go in my head so much. So, I stopped trying to explain things to her and just did what my instincts told me. Even my twin sister, Caroline, didn’t believe me and that hurt me a little bit because she has always been supportive with every crazy thing I get caught up with. ‘Guess communicating with trees and flowers is too much even for her’ I thought. ‘Time to get down’ As I thought that a searing pain erupted from my chest straight to my head and I lost my grip on the branch I was holding. The pain in my head was far worse than the pain from the impact on the ground and finally I blacked out hearing my mother’s panicked voice.
I saw a little girl playing with her father outside. Happy memories, they laughed as he spun her around and then hugged her to his chest, then he threw her in the air and her smile stopped as she screamed clearly afraid of the height. Then something crazy happened, a plant root raised from the ground and wrapped around her holding her up. The father’s eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed her away from them.
The next memory was in a house, the inside was dark, and the only lights were from some candles scattered around the room. The father was holding the little girl and he seemed to be pleading with the tall woman that was sitting at the head of the table. “Please, you are the only one that can help her, teach her. Her mother isn’t with us anymore and we both know magic can be dangerous if she doesn’t learn to control it.” The woman smiled at him and assured him that all baby witches were welcomed in her coven even more so when their mothers were members.
The image shifted, and I saw the little girl grow up, learn more about her powers, get stronger and then I saw war. It was tragic all the pain, the loss, the hate. I saw the man from before dying, saw her grieve, fight, tear others apart. And finally, die. The memories stopped and I felt something pull me away from the battlefield as she took her last breath.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital which didn’t surprise me that much since I did fall from a tree, I was alone in the room and as I tried to get up my mother, my sister and a kind looking doctor walked in. “How are you feeling, dear?” The kind doctor asked me as she helped me up on the bed but stopped me from getting off it.
“I’m fine I’m not hurting anywhere” I said ‘Which is weird not even my head hurts’ I thought, and she shined a light into my eyes with the instructions to follow it.
“Well, you don’t have a concussion you are very lucky, falling from that height is very dangerous and you could have been seriously injured.” She scolded me “Please don’t do it again your mother here was worried about you” I nodded looking at my mom.
“Sorry mommy I should have listened to you” I said pulling the puppy eyes because I knew she couldn’t stay mad when I did them. Mom visibly sighed then turned to the doctor to ask when I can be discharged. Thankfully due to the lack of injuries the doctor allowed me to go home today but she advised us that if I felt dizzy or unwell, I should come here again for a checkup.
“Honey I will go sign the discharge papers and then we can go home” she told me guiding Caroline out with her. It was weird seeing my sister so silent and now I felt bad because I was the reason. I exhaled loudly and turned to see if there was any water I could drink because my throat was bothering me. Next to my bed was a vase with pink tulips ‘meaning get well soon’ my brain supplied me, and I stood still in shock ‘What was that’ I thought ‘Does this have something to do with my dream? Is it connected to the girl I saw?’ Her name was Daphne just like mine and when I focused on the memories, they felt like a part of me.
I suddenly felt sad for her, everything in her life was difficult she lived though so much in such little time. Still something inside me told me we were connected and I focused on the feeling words flashing through my brain ‘Past life, same person, different world, memories belong to you’ Is that true tho? Is this the reason I have been hearing plants communicate with me? ‘I should test it out’ I thought. I took one tulip in my hands and tried to concentrate on it, the aura I felt inside it was difficult to grasp. Sweat gathered at my temples and I closed my eyes reaching inside, what do I want to do? Then like something clicked in my head I felt warmth travel through my body to my hands and when I opened my eyes the flower looked so much better than before, the pink so vibrant, like it was never plucked for the soil.
All of a sudden, the door to my room opened and mom was here again, “Are you ready to go?” she asked me and in that moment I felt the need to tell her what happened ‘No she wouldn’t understand, it would be dangerous’ the voice whispered and I pressed my mouth shut before any word got out. I didn’t know why my instinct didn’t trust her but at that point I wasn’t sure either ‘My instincts have never let me down until now, so I will trust them and if some day I feel like I can share that part of me with her then I will’ But first I have to learn how to control these powers with the help of the other Daphne’s memories.

Chapter Text

As days turned into weeks, I kept my newfound abilities a secret from my family and friends unsure of their reactions. I spent my time exploring the woods near our home, communing with the plants and trees, and practicing the magic I had inherited from the other Daphne's memories. It was a strange and exhilarating experience, and I could feel myself growing stronger with each passing day.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the woods grew darker, I ventured deeper into the forest than I ever had before. The trees whispered to me, their ancient wisdom flowing through my veins. I felt a powerful presence nearby, a source of magic unlike any I had encountered before.

Following my instincts, I pushed through the underbrush until I came upon a small clearing bathed in moonlight. At the center of the clearing stood a circle of stones, and in the center of that circle was a magnificent, ancient tree. Its branches stretched high into the night sky, and its leaves shimmered with an otherworldly light. Upon a passing glance one wouldn’t think anything of it but what I felt was so strong I couldn’t resist.

Approaching the tree cautiously, I could feel its energy calling to me, a beckoning that was impossible to resist. I reached out to touch the tree's gnarled bark, and as my fingers made contact, a surge of power coursed through me. It was as though the tree was sharing its knowledge and strength with me, and I knew that I had stumbled upon something extraordinary.

Over the following weeks, I returned to the ancient tree again and again, forming a deep bond with it. I learned to harness its magic, to communicate with the plants and animals of the forest, and to tap into the memories and abilities of the other Daphne. It was like having a mentor from another time and place, guiding me on my journey of discovery.

As I grew more confident in my powers, I couldn't help but wonder about the other Daphne and the world she had come from. What had led her to that fateful battle, and how had she ended up in Mystic Falls, Virginia, as a ten-year-old girl? The memories I had inherited were fragmented, and I longed to piece together the full story.

One evening, while meditating beneath the ancient tree, I felt a sudden connection to the other Daphne's memories. It was as though I was seeing through her eyes, experiencing her life as if it were my own. I witnessed her training as a witch, her struggles and triumphs, and her unwavering determination to protect her people.

But there was more to the story, a darkness that had consumed her after the loss of her loved ones. It was a darkness that mirrored the grief and anger I had seen in her own leader during the battle against the Satterfield Coven. It was a reminder that power, even magical power, could come at a great cost.

As the weeks turned into months, I continued to grow and learn. I honed my abilities, deepened my connection with the ancient tree, and delved deeper into the other Daphne's memories. Somedays I struggled with the burden of those memories, feelings I never had to know through my own experiences but I knew that my journey was just beginning, and that there were still many mysteries to uncover.

But one thing was certain: I was no longer just a ten-year-old girl from Mystic Falls. I was Daphne Forbes, a witch with a destiny intertwined with that of another Daphne from a different world. And together, we would uncover the secrets of our shared past and forge a path towards a brighter future.

The connection to the other Daphne's memories grew stronger with each passing day. It was as though a bridge had formed between our two worlds, allowing me to access her experiences and knowledge more easily. I had become a living conduit for her past.

One evening, as I meditated beneath the ancient tree, I delved even deeper into her memories. I saw flashes of her childhood, her training as a witch, and her early encounters with magic. But it was her interactions with the coven that intrigued me the most.

The coven she had joined was unlike any I had ever heard of. They were not only skilled in magic but also deeply connected to the natural world. They believed in the balance of all things and had a profound respect for the earth and its creatures. It was this connection that had allowed the other Daphne to communicate with plants and animals, just as I did.

But there was a darker side to the coven as well. They possessed knowledge of forbidden spells and rituals, magic that could tip the balance and bring devastation if used recklessly. The other Daphne had been drawn into a conflict within the coven itself, a struggle for power and control over these dangerous secrets.

As I continued to witness her experiences, I realized that the darkness that had consumed her was not solely a result of her losses in battle. It was also a result of the internal strife within her own coven, a conflict that had torn apart her sense of belonging and purpose.

I found myself becoming increasingly distant from my own world, my family and friends had noticed the change in me, and my mother, Sheriff Forbes, was particularly concerned. She had always been a strong and caring presence in my life, and I knew it hurt her to see me withdraw and act so secretive.

One evening, after returning from my secret rendezvous with the magical tree, I found my mother waiting for me in the living room. Her expression was a mixture of worry and frustration, and she wasted no time in addressing the issue.

"Daphne," she began, her voice tinged with concern, "we need to talk. You've been distant lately, more distant than ever. I can't help but feel like you're keeping something from me."

I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, torn between the secrets I held and the desire to ease her worry. "I promise, Mom, it's not what you think. I've just been... going through some things."

Her brows furrowed, and she crossed her arms, a clear indication that she wasn't buying my vague response. "Daphne, I've seen you change. You used to be so open with me, and now it's like you're a completely different person. You're spending more and more time alone, disappearing into the woods for hours on end, you don’t even act your age or call me mommy anymore. I can't help but worry."

I took a deep breath, my heart heavy with the weight of the truth I couldn't share. "Mom, I wish I could explain everything to you, but it's complicated. There are things happening that I can't fully understand myself."

She stepped closer to me, her concern turning into a mix of frustration and sadness. "I don't know what's going on, Daphne, but I'm your mother. I'm here to help and support you. Whatever it is, we can face it together. But shutting me out like this, it's not like you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at the woman who had always been my anchor. I wanted to confide in her, to tell her about the ancient tree, the other Daphne's memories, and the magical world I was discovering. But the fear of how she might react, the fear of her getting involved in something she couldn't fully understand, held me back.

"I know, Mom," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I love you, and I don't want to push you away. But there are things I can't share right now, things that are bigger than me. Please, just trust that I'm doing what I need to do."

She studied me for a moment, her eyes searching mine for answers. Eventually, she sighed and pulled me into a tight embrace. "I do trust you, honey, and I love you more than anything. Just promise me that when you're ready, you'll talk to me. We'll face whatever it is together."

I nodded, my heart heavy with the knowledge that I was keeping secrets from the person I cherished the most. But I feared what she would think of me after knowing. Would she consider me a monster?

Daphne Forbes, 12 years old

One crisp autumn morning, as I sat beneath the tree, I noticed something unusual—a small, weathered corner of parchment peeking out from beneath the gnarled roots.

Curiosity piqued, I carefully reached down and began to unearth the hidden treasure. My fingers brushed against the pages of a leather-bound book, revealing a grimoire unlike any I had ever seen -not that I had any personal experience with one. The cover was black, embossed with intricate designs, and the pages were aged to a rich, sepia hue.

With trembling hands, I gently lifted the grimoire from its hidden resting place, cradling it as if it were a fragile relic. The book seemed ancient, and I couldn't help but wonder if it had belonged to the other Daphne, left behind as a guide for me. But it couldn’t be possible she used to exist in a different world.

As I opened it, a rush of energy pulsed through me, causing the pages to flutter with an otherworldly life of their own. The first page bore a name in elegant script: "Daphne Forbes." It was as though the book had been waiting for me to find it.

With growing excitement, I began to peruse the contents. The grimoire contained a wealth of knowledge—spells, incantations, and rituals from many generations of witches. Each page held secrets, each word whispered of power.

I traced my fingers over the inked symbols and verses, feeling the magic within them resonate with the magic that flowed through me. There were spells for protection, healing, and divination, all written in a language that seemed both familiar and foreign. ‘Latin’ the familiar voice from before whispered.

As I delved deeper into the grimoire, I discovered entries that chronicled the others own experiences and insights. They had left behind their thoughts and discoveries, sharing their wisdom with me across time.

But it wasn't just the spells and knowledge that captivated me. The grimoire also contained sketches of the very same ancient tree beneath which I had found it. It seemed that the tree had been a focal point of the other witches’ magical journey, just as it had become for me.

My heart raced as I continued to explore the mysterious grimoire's pages. It was becoming increasingly evident that this precious tome did not belong to the other Daphne but to an unknown, powerful witch from a bygone era. The realization sent a shiver down my spine, raising questions about who this enigmatic sorceress was and how her grimoire had ended up hidden beneath the roots of the ancient tree.

The pages of the grimoire held a wealth of spells and arcane knowledge, not only about vampires but also about an array of magical beings and phenomena. It was a treasure trove of magical wisdom that had been waiting for me to uncover.

As I continued to read, I discovered spells and incantations designed to harness the elements, commune with spirits, and protect against malevolent forces. It seemed that the witch who had penned this grimoire had been a master of her craft, and her knowledge spanned a vast spectrum of magical practices.

The realization that this grimoire was now in my possession filled me with a sense of awe and responsibility. I couldn't help but wonder what had become of the powerful witch who had created it. What had she known about the world of Mystic Falls, and why had she left her magical legacy for someone like me to discover?

Closing the grimoire gently, I resolved to honor the memory of the unknown witch by continuing to learn from her writings and use her magical knowledge for the greater good.

With this newfound wisdom, I would be better prepared to face the supernatural threats that lurked in the shadows of Mystic Falls and protect those I cared about if the need ever came.

I once again stumbled upon the section detailing vampires—evidence that these supernatural creatures were indeed real and had been known to this mysterious witch.

The grimoire contained detailed descriptions of vampires, their immortality, superhuman strength, and their ability to compel humans. Just like the legends, it outlined the vampires' aversion to sunlight and their insatiable thirst for blood.

What struck me the most were the methods it described for killing a vampire. Wooden stakes through the heart, decapitation, and fire were all listed as means to end their immortal existence. My heart raced as I read on, realizing that this unknown witch had encountered vampires in her own time and had taken the time to document their vulnerabilities. It seemed that the existence of vampires had transcended generations, and this ancient witch had left behind valuable knowledge for future generations to use.

Chapter Text

The sun casts a warm glow over Mystic Falls as Daphne (17 years old now) sits in the passenger seat of Caroline’s car. Her twin is behind the wheel, and they both share a sense of excitement for the first day of school, but anxiety is creeping up in her. Lately, she's been experiencing strange and perplexing dreams that elude her understanding.

Daphne lies in her bed, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through her window. Her eyes are closed, but her face bears a deep frown as she sleeps fitfully.

MYSTIC FALLS CEMETERY - NIGHT

Daphne stands alone in the eerie silence of the cemetery. Tombstones surround her, casting long shadows in the moonlight. Her gaze is fixed on a particular grave, but the name is obscured.

“Why am I here?” she whispers,

Suddenly, the ground beneath her trembles, and the gravestones shake as if they're caught in a violent earthquake. Daphne stumbles back, fear in her eyes.

“No, this can't be happening!”

The earth cracks open, and a dark, ominous force emerges, swirling around her. She gasps as the force engulfs her, pulling her deeper into the dream.

Daphne jolts awake, her heart racing, and she's drenched in sweat. Her breathing is heavy as she tries to make sense of the unsettling dream.

“What was that? Why does it feel so real?” she whispers to herself.

She sits up in bed, unable to shake off the feeling of foreboding that clings to her. These enigmatic prophetic dreams have been haunting her, growing more vivid and unsettling with each passing night. Something's coming, something big. But what does it all mean?

Daphne shakes her head to clear her mind of those dreams and turns to her sister,

“Can you believe we're finally seniors, Care?”

She grins, “I know, right? Time flew by. Senior year is going to be epic!”

“Yeah, it's the last chapter of high school before we dive into the real world.” Says Daphne looking out the window.

They drive in comfortable silence for a moment before Caroline breaks it.

“So, any exciting plans for this year?”

She hums thoughtfully, “Hmm, well, I'm thinking of joining a self-defense club. The last one I was in broke up because most of the members were seniors that left after graduation.”

Caroline grimaced at that, “I don’t know why you keep talking all these martial arts and self-defense classes just to do the same in school too! First, what if you break your nose and then you’re ugly for life? It seems so dangerous compared to other activities.”

Daphne chuckles. “I just like doing them Care, why not? Also believe me no one can break anything of mine even if they try.”

Caroline slightly pouts at this and after a moment says, “Well this year I’ll be cheer captain and I hope that everything will be perfect.”

“Of course, it will! You’re the star cheerleader and also a slavedriver so you have nothing to worry about.” Daphne laughs.

“That's the spirit! Oh, speaking of spirits, have you heard about the new coffee shop that just opened in town?”

Daphne raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“No, tell me more. I'm always up for a good cup of coffee.” She smiles.

“It's called "Mystic Brews," and rumor has it they have this secret blend that's supposed to be out of this world.”

Daphne laughs, “A secret blend, huh? Sounds intriguing. We'll have to check it out sometime.”

As they chat, they pull into the parking lot of Mystic Falls High School, she could see the attention her sister was getting and felt somewhat relieved that she didn’t have to go through the same thing. To her attention was good only from people she liked and her friends (also Care’s friends because they had the same friend group).

As they’re walking the halls Caroline spots someone and nudges her to look, “Hey it’s Elena and Bonnie let’s go.”

Daphne's smile widens as she approaches her friends.

“Elena!”

Elena turns to see Daphne, and a genuine smile lights up her face. They share a warm hug.

“Daphne, it's so good to see you! How was your summer?”

“It was alright, you know, the usual. But I've been looking forward to seeing you again.”

Elena's eyes glisten with gratitude.

“You have no idea how much your presence means to me, especially after everything.”

Daphne's gaze softens, and she recalls this summer when she comforted Elena during a difficult time.

Daphne and Elena sit together on a cozy porch swing in Elena's front yard. The sun shines brightly, but the mood is somber.

“Elena, I can't even imagine what you're going through. Losing your parents... it's unimaginable.”

Elena looks down, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I miss them so much, Daph. Everything has changed, and I don't know how to handle it. Jeremy is not taking it well either and I don’t know how to help him.”

Daphne places a comforting hand on Elena's shoulder.

“You don't have to handle it alone, Elena. I'm here for you, always. We'll get through this together. Care and Bonnie also want to help, and we’ll all be here for you.”

Elena leans into Daphne's shoulder, finding solace in her best friend's presence.

Back in the present, Daphne's eyes well up with emotion.

“Lena, I meant every word back then, and I still do. You're not alone in this journey, okay?”

Elena nods, her gratitude evident.

“Thank you, Daph. You've been my rock, and I don't know what I would do without you and everyone else.”

“Likewise, Lena. Now, let's make this school year the best one yet.”

“Elena. Oh, my god.” Caroline interrupts as she hugs her,

“How are you? Oh, it's so good to see you. How is she? Is she good?” She asks Bonnie,

“Caroline, I'm right here. And I'm fine. Thank you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Much better.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Caroline hugs her again.

“Okay, Caroline.”

“Oh! Okay, see you guys later?” Caroline's exuberance hasn't faded as she continues to hug Elena and ask her questions, while Bonnie smiles and tries to respond as best she can.

Daphne now standing a few feet away, observes the interaction with a hint of concern. After a few moments, she gently tugs on Caroline's arm to pull her away from Elena and Bonnie.

“Caroline, can I talk to you for a second?”

Caroline follows Daphne to a quieter corner of the hall away from the girls.

“What's up?” She asks confused,

“Caroline, I'm glad you're excited to see Elena, but you need to tone it down a little.” she tries softly.

“What do you mean? I was just being friendly.” She has a surprised look on her face.

“I know you were, but remember, Elena has been through a lot. You don't want to overwhelm her with too much enthusiasm, especially about her health.”

“ I was just trying to show her that we care.” She says defensively.

“I know you care, and I'm sure Elena knows that too, but subtlety and sensitivity go a long way. She's been through some tough times, and it's essential to be mindful of how we approach her.”

Caroline softens, “You're right, Daph. I didn't think about it that way. I'll be more careful.”

“Thanks, Caroline. I know you mean well.” She smiles.

“I have to go now, I’ll see you later in class.” Caroline says looking at a group of people she wants to talk to.

Daphne walks alone through the bustling school hallway, lost in thought. As she turns a corner, she suddenly collides with someone, causing her to stumble back.

Startled she says “Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going.”

She looks up and meets the gaze of a handsome and enigmatic man. His deep forest green eyes hold a sense of calm and intrigue that instantly captivates her.

He smiles at her “No problem at all. My fault too. I'm new here, and I have no idea where,” He checks the paper he is holding, “History with Tanner is.”

Daphne's curiosity is piqued, and she can't help but feel that there's something different about him.

“Oh, um, sure. I have the same class. Follow me, and I'll show you the way.” She is flustered and mentally curses herself for being so awkward.

As they walk together down the hallway, Stefan extends his hand.

“I'm Stefan Salvatore, by the way. Just moved here.”

Daphne takes his hand, feeling a strange connection and a subtle shift in the energy around them.

“I'm Daphne Forbes. Nice to meet you, Stefan. Mystic Falls can be a bit overwhelming at first, but you'll get used to it.

“Thanks, Daphne. I appreciate the help.” He smiles again with his perfect teeth.

As they continue down the hallway, Daphne can't help but sense that Stefan Salvatore is unlike anyone she's ever met, she just can’t pinpoint why.

“Once our home state of Virginia joined confederacy in 1861, it created a tremendous amount of tension within the state. People in Virginia's northwest region had different ideals than those from the traditional deep south. Then Virginia divided in 1863 with the northwest region joining the union.” Tanner is the bane of every student’s existence. Everyone knows this and everyone hates him.

Stefan is in this class too and she has seen him look at Elena about 100 times in the past 20 minutes. Daphne's curiosity is piqued, and she wonders about the connection between Stefan and Elena. She discreetly watches their interactions, noticing the subtle tension in the air.

Suddenly, her phone vibrates, and she discreetly checks the message from Bonnie in their group chat.

"BONNIE: HAWT-E. STARING @ U"

Daphne raises an eyebrow at the message, glancing at Elena and then at Stefan. She can't help but smile at her friend's playful text.

Elena, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, remains focused on the front of the classroom, her attention on the lesson. Stefan, on the other hand, continues to steal glances in her direction.

As the class continues, Daphne can't help but steal occasional glances at Stefan Salvatore. Her thoughts wander, and she finds herself admiring his handsome features and the mysterious air that surrounds him.

He's incredibly good-looking, she thinks, her gaze briefly lingering on him. And there's something about the way he carries himself...

However, a part of her feels a twinge of unease as she notices Stefan's continued attention on Elena, who remains focused on the lesson. Daphne's heart flutters with a desire for him to look her way, to acknowledge her presence.

Why does he keep staring at her? Daphne wonders, her thoughts a mix of curiosity and yearning. I wish he'd notice me instead.

Despite her fleeting attraction to Stefan, Daphne's loyalty to Elena remains unwavering. She would never wish ill upon her friend, even if it means quietly harboring her own feelings. I’ll see where it goes and act accordingly, she thinks.

Daphne sits in her bedroom, engrossed in the ancient grimoire she discovered beneath the tree. Her fingers trace over the intricate symbols and words, absorbing the magical knowledge within its pages.

Caroline barges in her room enthusiastically, “Hey, Daphne!”

Daphne's attention snaps from the grimoire to the doorway, where her sister stands with an eager smile.

“Hey, Care. What's up?” she smiles,

“The gang's going to the Mystic Grill later. You wanna come with us?”

Daphne considers the invitation, torn between her magical discoveries and spending time with her friends.

After a pause, she says,  “Sure, that sounds like fun. Let me just get ready.”

Caroline claps her hands in delight.

“Great! I'll be waiting downstairs. Hurry up don’t spend 20 minutes doing your eyeliner again!”

Daphne nods and watches as Caroline leaves her room, closing the door behind her. She sets the grimoire aside and starts preparing for the evening pulling out a pair of black cargo pants and a purple and brown long-sleeved grunge top to wear with her black converse shoes, excited to spend time with her friends. Thankfully she had long enchanted the tome to look like a regular book, ensuring that no one else could access its magical secrets; it would only respond to her magic.

Chapter Text

“His name is Stefan Salvatore. He lives with uncle up at the old Salvatore Boarding House. He hasn't lived here since he was a kid. Military family, so they moved around a lot. He's a Gemini, and his favorite color is blue.” Caroline was saying as we walked inside The Mystic Grill.

“You got all of that in one day?” Bonnie was trying so hard not to laugh but Daphne could see her shoulders shaking.

“Oh, please, I got all that between third and fourth period. We're planning a June wedding.” Caroline was clearly delusional.

“Sorry Care but based on how Stefan was looking at Lena during History I think you’ll have to find another husband” Daphne warned her sister knowing she could get carried away if she didn’t hold her back.

Caroline's face twisted in disbelief as she processed Daphne's words. She had been so sure about her plans for a June wedding with Stefan, but now her sister's warning had thrown a wrench into her fantasy.

"Are you serious, Daphne?" Caroline retorted, her voice edged with frustration. “Not even a day and Elena gets the new guy?”

Bonnie and Matt sit at a table, engaged in conversation.

“How's Elena doing?”

“Her mom and dad died. How do you think? She's putting on a good face, but it's only been four months.” Bonnie answers.

“Has she said anything about me?” He looked so hopeful at that moment but,

“Oh, no. So not getting in the middle. You pick up the phone and call her.”

“I feel weird calling her. She broke up with me.”

“Give it more time, Matt.” Bonnie put her hand on his shoulder.

As they talk, Elena walks into the Mystic Grill, accompanied by Stefan Salvatore.

Matt shakes his head, “More time, huh?” He approaches Elena and Stefan.

“Hey, I'm Matt, nice to meet you.” Offering his hand.

“Hi. Stefan.”

Elena was looking at him unsure, “Hey.”

“Hey.” He responds.

Later Caroline, Bonnie, and Daphne, who had joined them at the table, become curious about the newcomer and start a conversation with Stefan.

“So, you were born in Mystic Falls?” Caroline was the first to ask the questions.

“Mm-Hmm. And moved when I was still young.”

“ Parents?” Bonnie asked. To Daphne this felt like an interrogation, but she knew once they started nothing could stop them.

“My parents passed away.” Elena looked shocked at this,

“I'm sorry. Any siblings?”

Stefan shook his head, “None that I talk to. I live with my uncle.”

Does that mean you have but don’t want to talk about them? Daphne thinks but doesn’t say anything in case it is a touchy subject for him.

Daphne was curious, “Mystic Falls is quite the change from wherever you moved from. What brings you back?”

“Just felt like coming home, I guess.” He responded smiling.

Daphne nods, intrigued by Stefan's response.

“Sometimes, there's a certain magic about returning to your roots. I get that.” She said thoughtfully.

Elena grinned, “Daphne's our resident philosopher.”

The group chuckles, and Daphne blushes slightly.

Caroline decided to change the subject, “So, Stefan, if you're new, then you don't know about the party tomorrow.”

“It's a back-to-school thing at the falls.” Said Bonnie

Stefan turned to Elena, “Are you going?”

Daphne leans back in her chair, sipping her drink, but her eyes remain on Stefan, curious about his reaction to Elena's answer.

“I hadn't planned on it, but maybe I should.”

“You totally should! It's a great way to meet people and make new friends.” Daphne added encouraging.

Stefan seems genuinely interested in Daphne's suggestion.

“Thanks for the advice. Maybe I will.”

Mr. Tanner, the history teacher, stood at the front of the classroom, his gaze sweeping over the students, who were scattered in their desks. He had a stern expression as he began his lecture.

“The Battle of Willow Creek took place right at the end of the war in our very own Mystic Falls. How many casualties resulted in this battle? Ms. Bennett?”

Bonnie looked so confused, “Um...a lot? I'm not sure. Like a whole lot.”

“Cute becomes dumb in an instant, Ms. Bennett. Mr. Donovan? Would you like to take this opportunity to overcome your embedded jock stereotype?”

He is such a dick. Daphne thought.

“It's okay, Mr. Tanner, I'm cool with it.” Matt answered leaning back on his chair.

In the middle of Mr. Tanner's lecture, he directed his stern gaze towards Elena, his voice carrying a hint of impatience.

“Elena? Surely you can enlighten us about one of the town's most significantly historical events?”

Elena, sitting at her desk, felt a pang of anxiety. She hesitated for a moment, then softly replied.

“I'm sorry, I--I don't know.”

Mr. Tanner's tone turned sharper, and his words were tinged with irritation.

“I was willing to be lenient last year for obvious reasons, Elena. But the personal excuses ended with summer break.”

Sitting a few desks behind Elena, Daphne Forbes had been quietly attentive to the classroom discussion. However, she couldn't remain silent any longer. Her voice, though firm, carried an air of respect.

“Mr. Tanner, if I may?” She raised her hand

Mr. Tanner looked toward Daphne, acknowledging her request with a slight nod.

“Go ahead, Ms. Forbes.”

Daphne rose from her seat, addressing the teacher without drawing attention to Elena's situation.

“I just wanted to say that Elena's been through a lot lately, and it's not always easy to focus on everything in class. We should be understanding of that. Sometimes, life throws unexpected challenges our way.”

Daphne's words were met with a few nods of agreement from her classmates. She continued, maintaining a respectful tone.

“It might be a good idea if we offer our support instead of pressure. We all have our struggles, and we're here to learn, but we're also here for each other.”

Mr. Tanner, though initially taken aback by Daphne's interruption, looked angry and embarrassed at the same time.

“You make a valid point, Ms. Forbes. Let's remember to be considerate of one another.” He added but she could see he just said that because he felt awkward that she had berated him.

“There were 346 casualties. Unless you're counting local civilians.” She added after a thought. Tanner nodded “That’s correct, Ms. Forbes. Except, of course, there were no civilian casualties in this battle.”

“Actually, there were 27, sir. Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church, believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong. It was a night of great loss. The founder's archives are, uh, stored in civil hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner.” She finished smirking and the whole class started whispering amongst themselves.

Tanner only answered with a ‘hmm,’ and continued the lesson.

Elena, grateful for Daphne's intervention, exchanged a quiet smile with her friend, knowing that she had defended her without drawing undue attention to her personal struggles. She could also see Stefan look at her surprised by her knowledge and she felt pride course through her at the gesture.

The thumping bass of music filled the air as Daphne and Bonnie navigated through the lively crowd at the back-to-school party in Mystic Falls. Daphne sipped on her drink, her eyes scanning the area as she waited for Elena to arrive.

Bonnie, standing beside Daphne, leaned closer to her friend and spoke over the music.

“You know, Daphne, my grandma, she's always going on about how we're witches.”

Daphne raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Bonnie's revelation. She didn’t know the Bennetts came from witches. She lowered her voice to ensure their conversation remained private.

“Really? That's fascinating, Bonnie. What makes her say that?”

Bonnie shrugged, her expression a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

“She claims it's in our bloodline, that our ancestors had these incredible powers. It's all just old family stories, but she's so adamant about it.”

Daphne considered Bonnie's words for a moment before responding.

“You know, Bonnie, sometimes our elders see things in a different light. Maybe it's worth listening to what your grandma has to say. There could be more to it than you think.”

Before Bonnie could respond, Elena finally made her grand entrance. She looked stunning, drawing everyone's attention, including Daphne and Bonnie's.

“ Hey, guys! Sorry, I'm late. Traffic was a nightmare.” Elena apologized.

Bonnie and Daphne exchanged quick glances, realizing that the conversation would have to be put on hold.

“No problem, Elena. We were just catching up.” Bonnie said.

Daphne nodded taking her friends cue to change the subject, “Yeah, just girl talk. Let's enjoy the party!”

Elena grinned, oblivious to the topic they had been discussing.

After a while Bonnie asks, “So where is he?”

“Who?” Questioned Elena like she didn’t know “Stefan? I don't know. You tell me, you're the psychic one.”

Bonnie grinned “Right, I forgot. Okay, so give me a sec. Grams says I have to concentrate.”

“Wait, you need a crystal ball.” Interrupted Daphne laughing as she gave her an empty beer bottle. Bonnie takes it and touches Elena's hand after. She spaces out for a while, comes back to her senses, and abruptly pulls her hand back.

“What?” Asks Elena

“That was weird. When I touched you, I saw a crow.”

“What?” She repeats.

“A crow. There was fog, a man. I'm drunk. It's the drinking. There's nothing psychic about it. Yeah? Ok, I'm gonna get a refill.”

Bonnie rushes away and Daphne turns to follow her “I’m going to see if she’s alright Lena. Try to find Stefan in the meanwhile and find us later if you want.” She calls over her shoulder.

Amidst the pulsating beats and the drunk highschoolers, Bonnie, still slightly bewildered by her vision, looked around for Daphne. She finally spotted her friend nearby looking around, and with a determined stride, she approached her.

“Daphne, I need to talk to you.” She said.

Daphne turned to Bonnie, concern mirrored in her eyes.

“What's wrong, Bonnie?”

Bonnie leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“That vision I had when I touched Elena's hand... It was so vivid. I saw a crow, fog, and a man. It felt real, not like my usual psychic feelings.”

Daphne furrowed her brow, her concern deepening.

Daphne looked thoughtful, “Bonnie, maybe you should consider talking to your grandma again about these visions. She might have insights or guidance that could help you understand what's happening.”

She hesitated, “Yeah, maybe you're right. I've been trying to ignore it, but this... it felt different. I'll talk to her soon.”

Before Daphne could reply, a classmate, Ethan if she remembered correctly, approached her with a confident grin. He struck up a conversation, attempting to flirt.

“Hey there, Daphne. Enjoying the party?”

Daphne glanced back at Bonnie who at that moment decided to leave, then back to the classmate. She managed a charming smile.

“You're looking pretty amazing tonight. I have to say, that outfit suits you well.” He smirked.

Daphne, feeling a mixture of amusement and interest, responded with a playful smirk.

“Well, thank you, Ethan. I have to admit, you don't look too shabby yourself.” She teased.

Ethan chuckled, leaning in closer as the music pulsed around them.

“So, Daphne, are you a party animal or just making a rare appearance tonight?” He asked confidently.

Daphne glanced at the people dancing nearby, then back at Ethan with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Oh, I've been known to have my moments. But tonight, I'm feeling like it's time to let loose a little.” She grinned.

Ethan's eyebrows raised in intrigue.

He raised an eyebrow, “Is that so? Well, then, how about a dance to kick off your night of letting loose?”

Daphne pretended to think for a moment, though her smile gave her true intentions away.

“Hmm, I suppose I could be convinced if you get me another drink.” She said playfully tagging at the chain he had around his neck.

*Explicit Scene*

Some time passed and Daphne and Ethan were at his car away from the party. Ethan currently had her pressed against his car making out and touching her over her clothes, running his hands over her hips and then in her pants squeezing her ass.

“You have such a perfect body” he whispers in her ear as they part. “Get in the car.”

He opens the back door and pushes her in and starts kissing her again on her lips slowly trailing down her throat changing the pressure as he goes. She can’t help but moan at his touches gripping his hair making him groan. Daphne pushes him slightly to take her shirt off before talking his as well throwing them to the front seats.

“Please touch me,” She pleads trying to be quiet in case anyone passes by.

He looks at her hungrily and unhooks her bra taking a nipple in his mouth sucking and licking until she can’t seem to stop her moans, he takes the other in his hand to give it the same attention. She runs her hands over his bare chest and grips his member through his jeans. He is big, she thinks and grinds against him. He looks at her with such desire she almost comes there and then.

“I can’t wait any longer,” She whimpers “Put your dick in me.”

He takes off all their clothes following her wishes and just as he puts a condom on, her phone buzzes from the front seat.

*End of Explicit Scene*

She looks at it and sees her twin’s ID immediately stopping Ethan to answer in case it was an emergency, a shiver running down her back.

I have a bad feeling about this she thought.

“Hey Care, what’s up? Did something happen at the party?” she said concerned.

Caroline was slurring and crying, “Daph it’s Vicky, Matt’s sister, something bit her in the woods and she’s losing a lot of blood. We are waiting for the ambulance to come.” She sniffed.

“Okay, listen…” she tries to stay calm “Caroline listen to me. Stop crying I’ll be there soon make sure you put a clean cloth against the wound to slow the bleeding until the paramedics come.” She hangs up when her sister answers and turns to Ethan who was listening to the conversation as well “Sorry we’ll have to reschedule it’s an emergency.” He starts putting back his clothes handing hers so she could as well, “Don’t worry about it, I will drive you there it’s faster.” she nods and gets in the passenger seat so they could leave.

Chapter Text

Daphne's heart raced as she rushed to Caroline's side. The urgency in her sister's voice had triggered a surge of worry. She hoped that Vicky would be okay and that the paramedics would reach her in time.

As Ethan sped through the dark streets of Mystic Falls, Daphne tried to stay focused, thinking of what they might encounter when they reached Vicky. She couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister was lurking in those woods, something beyond the ordinary. The mention of a bite only added to her unease.

When they finally arrived at the scene, Daphne could see Caroline standing near the woods, her face pale with worry. Without a second thought, she rushed over to her sister, giving her a reassuring hug.

"Caroline, where's Vicky? Is she okay?" Daphne asked, her voice trembling with concern.

Caroline wiped away her tears, trying to regain her composure.

“Yeah, you just missed the ambulance. They took her and Matt went with them.” She said.

“Let’s go find Elena and Bonnie.” Daphne said guiding her sister through the crowd of drunk teenagers.

“Hey. Do you want to go to Mainline Coffee? Wait for news.“ Bonnie asked looking worried.

“Not me, I gotta take Jeremy home.” Elena added after a thought.

“Guys, there's no way I'm psychic. I know that. But whatever I saw, or I think I saw, I have this feeling...” Bonnie turned to us, her eyes searching for understanding.

"Bonnie, what do you mean?" Elena asked, her voice filled with both curiosity and unease.

Bonnie hesitated for a moment, her thoughts racing as she tried to put her feelings into words.

"That it's just the beginning," Bonnie finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty and foreboding.

Daphne exchanged a worried glance with Elena, realizing that this was no ordinary party conversation. Bonnie might not consider herself a psychic, but Daphne knew better, and her visions had a way of foreshadowing events that couldn't be ignored.

As Bonnie, Daphne, and Caroline made their way to Mainline Coffee, Elena took her brother Jeremy, who was drinking a beer, by the arm, steering him towards the parking lot. She could see the worry in his eyes, and her protective instincts kicked in.

Daphne could hear her scolding him from afar using her magic to heighten her hearing.

“You okay? I called Jenna, she's on her way. Those people in uniforms, last time I checked, they're the police. People are going to stop giving you breaks, Jer. They just don't care anymore. They don't remember that our parents are dead, because they've got their own lives to deal with. The rest of the world has moved on. You should try, too.” Elena tone certainly didn’t get through to Jeremy.

“I've seen you in the cemetery writing in your diary. Is that--is that supposed to be you moving on?” He asked sarcastically.

“Mom and Dad wouldn't have wanted this.”

Caroline joined Daphne and Bonnie at their table in Mainline Coffee, her shoulders slumped and her expression downcast. She seemed to be carrying the weight of her earlier encounter with Stefan.

"Hey, Caroline," Daphne greeted her, concern evident in her eyes. "You okay? You look a little down."

Caroline sighed, her frustration apparent.

"I messed up, guys," she began, her voice filled with a mix of regret and self-deprecation. "I tried to flirt with Stefan, and he shut me down. He said it's not gonna happen."

Bonnie and Daphne exchanged empathetic glances, knowing that Caroline's self-esteem had taken a hit.

Caroline continued, her voice wavering slightly, "It's just...I always say the wrong thing, and the guys I want never want me. I feel so inappropriate all the time. And then there's Elena. She doesn't even have to try, and she always says the right thing. Stefan picks her. Everyone picks her for everything, and it's like I'm just... the one no one wants."

Bonnie reached out to put a reassuring hand on Caroline's shoulder.

"Caroline, you're an amazing person, and you have so much to offer," Bonnie said sincerely. "You're beautiful, smart, and funny, and you shouldn't measure your worth by whether one guy is interested or not."

Daphne chimed in, echoing Bonnie's sentiments, "That's right, Care. You're unique, and you don't have to be anyone other than yourself. Confidence is attractive, and I believe that the right person will come along and appreciate you for who you are."

Caroline wiped away a tear, touched by her friends' support.

"Thanks, guys," she said, her voice shaky but grateful. "I just need to remind myself of that sometimes. It's just hard when it feels like I'm always the one left behind."

Daphne leaned in closer, offering a warm smile.

"You're not alone, Caroline," she reassured her sister. "We'll always be here for you, cheering you on and reminding you of your worth. And one day, you'll find someone who sees just how amazing you are."

“Now keep drinking. I gotta get you home. I gotta get me home.” Bonnie said pushing the cup of coffee to Caroline, but her attention was elsewhere without the girls knowing. Damon Salvatore and Caroline were making eye contact and smiling at each other.

After a long and eventful night, Daphne helped Caroline get settled into her bed. She made sure her sister was comfortable and safe, tucking her in and offering a reassuring smile.

"Get some rest, Care," Daphne whispered. "I'll be right down the hall if you need anything."

Caroline nodded sleepily, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. Daphne quietly left her room and headed to her own. As she entered her room, her gaze fell on the ancient grimoire that now belonged to her. It contained knowledge about the supernatural world and its creatures.

With a sense of urgency, Daphne retrieved the grimoire from its place on her bookshelf. She knew that Vicky's incident in the woods was far from normal, and she needed to understand what they were dealing with.

Daphne carefully flipped through the pages, searching for any information that might shed light on the situation. Her heart raced as she read about vampire attacks, their characteristics, and the consequences for their victims.

As she delved deeper into the text, a sinking feeling settled in her chest. The details matched what had happened to Vicky - the bite, the loss of blood, no tracks left behind. It all pointed to the possibility of a vampire being responsible.

Daphne's mind raced as she considered the implications of this revelation. She knew that Mystic Falls wasn’t protected against any supernatural being that wanted to live here, and if one was here, it could mean trouble for the town and its residents.

As the night wore on, she immersed herself in her research, poring over her  grimoire and scouring the internet for any information that might shed light on the recent events in Mystic Falls. She was determined to uncover the truth about what had happened to Vicky and whether a vampire was involved.

Daphne's room was filled with the soft glow of candlelight, casting eerie shadows on the pages of her grimoire. She scribbled notes furiously in her journal, piecing together the details she had gathered from her research paired with recent murders that happened near the town.

In the midst of her study, she couldn't help but feel a connection to the natural world that surrounded her. Her room was filled with potted plants, some that had grown around the ancient tree, and in her quest for answers, she turned to them, seeking their wisdom.

She gently touched the leaves of her favorite houseplant, a vibrant green fern, and whispered, "Have you seen anything unusual, my friend? Anything out of the ordinary in Mystic Falls?"

Daphne closed her eyes, trying to attune herself to the energy of the plants. She believed that they held a unique connection to the earth and could sometimes offer insights into the mysteries of the natural world.

The fern rustled slightly, as if responding to her inquiry, but the message was unclear only a word could be made out: vervain.

While perusing the pages of her grimoire, Daphne came across a section and according to the ancient text, vervain was a potent herb with properties that were toxic to vampires. It acted as a protective barrier against their influence and could weaken them if ingested.

Intrigued by this revelation, Daphne decided to take matters into her own hands. She believed that knowledge was power, and understanding the properties of vervain could be invaluable.

With determination in her heart, Daphne closed her grimoire and made her way to the woods. She knew that vervain was a rare and elusive herb, but she was willing to search for it, guided by her intuition and the knowledge she had gained from her magical studies.

Daphne ventured further into the dense woods, guided by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the leaves. The forest was alive with the symphony of nighttime sounds - the gentle rustle of leaves, the distant hooting of an owl, and the soothing murmur of a nearby stream. The earthy scent of damp soil and decaying leaves filled the air, a reminder of the rich and ancient nature surrounding her.

Her footsteps were hushed on the bed of pine needles that carpeted the forest floor, creating a soft and cushioned path through the trees. As she moved deeper into the woods, she extended her senses, listening for any sign or whisper of the elusive vervain she sought.

The darkness of the night was punctuated by the occasional flicker of fireflies, their bioluminescent dance casting an enchanting spell on the forest. Daphne's heightened awareness allowed her to feel the subtle shifts in the air, as if the very woods were guiding her toward her goal.

And then, as if by some mystical alignment, she spotted it - a cluster of small, purple vervain flowers nestled among the underbrush. Their jagged leaves glistened with dewdrops, catching the moonlight and shimmering like tiny stars in the forest's embrace.

With a sense of reverence, Daphne approached the vervain, her fingers trembling slightly as she carefully plucked the herb from the ground. The leaves released a faint, earthy aroma as she held them, a scent that seemed to carry centuries of natural wisdom.

She placed the precious vervain into a small pouch she had brought with her, securing it close to her heart. The moonlight bathed her in its silvery glow, and she felt a profound connection to the ancient and mysterious world around her.

With her prized discovery in hand, Daphne turned to make her way back through the woods, her steps now imbued with purpose and determination. She knew that this vervain could be a vital tool in unraveling the supernatural mysteries that lurked in Mystic Falls, and she was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Throughout the rest of the night, she continued her research and consulted her plant companions, seeking any clues or guidance they might offer. As the first light of dawn began to filter through her window, Daphne realized she had to get ready for school and her research would have to wait.

Caroline and Bonnie had found a moment to chat at school about the events of the previous night, and the topic had turned to Bonnie's supposed abilities. Caroline, still feeling a bit confused and intrigued, asked Bonnie about her psychic or clairvoyant abilities.

"I'm confused. Are you psychic or clairvoyant?" Caroline inquired.

Bonnie shrugged, trying to explain in her own way.

"Technically, grams says I'm a witch. My ancestors were these really cool Salem witch chicks or something. Grams tried to explain it all, but she was looped on the liquor so I kinda tuned out. Crazy family, yes. Witches? I don't think so."

Caroline, her curiosity piqued, couldn't resist a playful jab.

"Yeah, well, feel free to conjure up the name and number of that guy from last night."

Bonnie chuckled, knowing she couldn't do that.

"I didn't see him, you did. Why didn't you just talk to him?"

Caroline paused for a moment, her expression thoughtful. It had been a blur of a night, and her drunkenness had certainly played a role.

"I don't know," Caroline admitted. "I was drunk."

Just then, Daphne entered the conversation with 3 cups of coffee in her hands, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"What are you two discussing?" she asked as she joined their conversation and giving them their coffees.

Caroline turned to Daphne, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"We're just trying to figure out if Bonnie's witchy powers can conjure up cute guys' phone numbers," she explained with a grin.

Daphne laughed, enjoying the banter between her friends. She leaned in closer to Bonnie, a playful twinkle in her eye.

"Well, Bonnie, any secret powers you'd like to share with us? Can you summon a hot date with a snap of your fingers?"

Bonnie chuckled, shaking her head.

"I wish it were that easy, but sadly, I don't think my 'witchy' powers extend to matchmaking. You'll have to rely on your charm and wit for that, Caroline."

Caroline rolled her eyes theatrically.

"Ugh, the struggle is real," she quipped, earning another round of laughter from her friends.

Daphne raised her coffee cup in a mock toast.

"To the mysteries of Mystic Falls and the friendships that make them bearable," she said with a smile.

Caroline and Bonnie joined in the sentiment, clinking their cups together.

"To us," Caroline added, "because we're the real magic here."

Daphne nodded but the events of the previous night weighed heavily on her mind.

Caroline and Bonnie, still in the dark about the supernatural aspect of the situation, chatted animatedly about their plans for the day, completely unaware of Daphne's growing anxiety.

Daphne had always been the one to keep a level head and a calm demeanor in times of crisis, but the knowledge of potential vampires in Mystic Falls sent a shiver down her spine. She knew the dangers they posed and the history of bloodshed and chaos that had surrounded them.

But she couldn't bring herself to voice her concerns to her friends just yet. They deserved to enjoy the morning without the weight of the supernatural world bearing down on them. Daphne didn't want to cause unnecessary fear or panic.

Instead, she smiled and nodded along with their conversation, offering occasional words of agreement and encouragement. She focused on being a source of strength and support for her friends, even as her own worries gnawed at her.

After school, the girls were sitting under the trees in the school courtyard and Daphne, who had been quietly listening to the conversation between Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena, decided to chime in when the topic shifted to the comet and Bonnie’s grandmas warning that ‘The comet is a sign of impending doom. The last time it passed over Mystic Falls, there was lots of death. So much blood and carnage, it created a bed of paranormal activity.’

"Actually, guys," Daphne interjected, "Bonnie might be onto something about the comet. In many cultures, comets have been seen as omens, and they often symbolize change or transformation. It might not necessarily mean doom, but it could signify that something significant is happening in Mystic Falls."

Caroline raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

"So, you're saying the comet is like a cosmic messenger?" she asked.

Daphne nodded, shifting the topic to Elena and her night with Stefan.

"Elena, if you like Stefan, there's no rush. You should follow your heart at your own pace. There's no right or wrong way to approach it. Just remember to be true to yourself."

Elena appreciated Daphne's words of wisdom and support. She knew that her feelings for Stefan were complicated, and she needed time to navigate them.

"You're right, Daphne," Elena said with a grateful smile. "I'll take things one step at a time."

Caroline, always the enthusiastic one, couldn't resist a final playful comment.

"Okay, but if you do decide to jump his bones, we better hear all the smutty details!"

Elena rolled her eyes and chuckled, appreciating the lightheartedness of her friends.

"Caroline, you're incorrigible," she teased.

As the conversation with her friends continued, Elena found herself contemplating her feelings for Stefan. She had been hesitant to act on her emotions, but Daphne's words had struck a chord with her. Maybe it was time to take a step forward, to seek out Stefan and see where their connection might lead.

With newfound determination, Elena finally spoke up.

"Actually, you know what? I think I will go to Stefan's house," she announced, surprising her friends.

Caroline's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Yes! Finally, some progress!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her enthusiasm.

Elena chuckled, appreciating her friend's support.

"Don't get too excited, Caroline. I just want to talk, get to know him better. No jumping bones or smutty details," Elena clarified with a teasing smile.

Bonnie nodded approvingly, proud of her friend for taking the initiative.

"That's a good plan, Elena. Just be yourself and see where it goes."

Daphne offered a reassuring nod, adding her encouragements.

As Elena prepared to go to Stefan's house, Daphne couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy deep within her. It was an emotion she had been struggling to come to terms with ever since she had met Stefan. She had seen the way Elena looked at him, the way her face lit up when he was around, and she couldn't deny the attraction between them.

But as she wrestled with her own feelings, Daphne knew that jealousy was a toxic emotion. She had always believed that matters of the heart couldn't be forced, and that true love and connection had to happen organically.

Daphne took a deep breath and reminded herself that she cared deeply for Elena. She wanted her friend to be happy, even if it meant putting her own feelings aside. Then she turned her attention back to Bonnie and Caroline, joining in their conversation and pushing her own feelings of jealousy aside. She knew that friendship was precious, and she would do whatever it took to preserve and protect the bonds she shared with her friends, even if it meant navigating the complicated world of love and attraction.

As Daphne, Bonnie and Elena stood on the streets of Mystic Falls, distributing programs for the upcoming "Night of the Comet" event, their conversation took a more personal turn. Bonnie couldn't help but inquire about Elena's feelings and the status of her budding connection with Stefan.

"Tonight, night of the comet," Bonnie remarked, making conversation as they handed out the programs. Elena offered a program to a passerby and then turned to the girls with a sigh.

"He didn't call, huh?" Bonnie asked, her tone sympathetic. Elena shook her head, her expression filled with a mix of disappointment and uncertainty.

 "Or text. But I realized we never even exchanged that stuff. We've never gotten to the texting part." Daphne couldn't help but add.

"That's an important milestone in any relationship." Elena chuckled, though her thoughts were still heavy with doubt.

"Isn't it? The timing is wrong, anyway." Bonnie, wise beyond her years, offered a perspective that cut through the complications of matters of the heart.

"When is it ever right?" Elena took a moment to consider Bonnie's words before responding, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination.

"I'm not ready, Bonnie." Bonnie nodded in understanding, acknowledging that matters of the heart were rarely straightforward.

"Who is?" Daphne remarked, recognizing that love often came with its own set of challenges. Elena, appreciating Daphne's empathy, couldn't help but acknowledge her own efforts.

"At least I put myself out there." Bonnie, wanting to keep the conversation open and honest, gently probed further.

"Is that what you're calling it?" Elena furrowed her brow, a bit puzzled by Bonnie's response.

"What do you mean?" Bonnie considered her words carefully before replying.

"All I'm hearing is reasons why you can't."

"That's true, Elena," Daphne chimed in, her voice soft but supportive. "Sometimes, we tend to focus on all the reasons why something can't work out, rather than giving it a chance."

Elena looked from Bonnie to Daphne, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s continue passing the programs.”

They were behind the Grill now and Caroline had brought candles to light when the comet passed.

Elena smiled appreciatively. "Hi. Hey."

Matt, standing nearby, also chimed in. "Hey."

Elena thanked them for the candles, her gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you."

Matt responded with a warm, "You're welcome."

Stefan, ever the gentleman, nodded in appreciation. "Thank you."

As the night continued to unfold, Stefan couldn't help but be captivated by the cosmic beauty of the passing comet. He couldn't help but share his thoughts with Elena.

"You know, that comet... it's been traveling across space for thousands of years. All alone." Daphne couldn't help but feel a sense of connection to his words. It was as if he saw the comet as a reflection of his own existence – trapped on a predetermined path, with rare moments of respite.

Elena nodded, her eyes fixed on the celestial wonder. "Yeah, Bonnie says it's a harbinger of evil and Daphne a cosmic messenger."

Stefan smiled at the contrast in interpretations. "I think it's just a ball of... snow and ice, trapped on a path that it can't escape. And once every 145 years, it gets to come home."

Elena listened to Stefan's words, finding solace in his perspective. The comet's journey seemed to reflect the complexities of their own lives.

Their conversation took a more personal turn as Stefan expressed his regret about the previous day's events.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. I wasn't myself."

Elena observed him, her compassion shining through her words. "You seem to spend a lot of time apologizing."

Stefan acknowledged his past mistakes. "Well, I have a lot to apologize for. Yesterday, that wasn't about you, ok?"

Elena appreciated his honesty but couldn't help but dig a little deeper. "You didn't tell me that you had a brother."

Stefan's response revealed the complexities of their relationship. "We're not close. It's, uh... it's complicated."

Elena understood the weight of complicated relationships all too well. "Always. He told me about your ex, Katherine."

Irritation flickered in Stefan's eyes as he asked, "What did he say?"

Elena shared the insight she had gained. "That she broke your heart."

Stefan's response was tinged with the weight of the past. "That was a long time ago."

Elena, however, offered a perspective that cut to the core of their shared experiences. "When you lose someone, it stays with you, always reminding you of how easy it is to get hurt."

Stefan searched for words, his gaze locking onto Elena's. "Elena..."

Elena reassured him, her voice filled with understanding and empathy. "It's ok, Stefan. I get it. You have no idea how much I get it. Complicated brother? Check. Complicated ex? Check. Too complicated to even contemplate dating, double check. It's ok. We met, and we talked, and it was epic, but... then the sun came up, and reality set in so..."

Daphne was listening to their conversation the whole time using her magic again. Elena's revelation about Stefan's brother and his past with Katherine intrigued Daphne. She wondered about the layers of complexity in his life and the scars that time couldn't erase. Her own experiences with the supernatural had taught her that pain and love often walked hand in hand.

As Elena made her decision to leave, her words lingered in the air like a poignant melody and Daphne could see the impact they had on Stefan.

Chapter Text

Stefan heard voices coming from the roof and immediately rushed up to investigate. His eyes widened with shock as he took in the sight of his brother holding Vicki Donovan. Damon's chilling words hung in the air as he continued to torment Vicki, who was clearly in a state of confusion and fear.

"Shh. I got you," Damon hissed, a predatory glint in his eyes.

"Excuse me," Stefan's voice was firm and demanding, a stark contrast to Damon's sinister presence.

Vicki's panicked cries filled the night air, and her pleas for mercy tugged at Stefan's heartstrings.

"Let her go," Stefan's command was unwavering, his protective instincts kicking in.

Damon's response was cryptic, laced with dark humor as he commented on his dietary habits "Not bad brother. Have you been eating bunnies?"

Stefan's patience wore thin, and his concern for Vicki grew by the second. He repeated his demand, this time more forcefully. "Let her go."

Vicki's distress escalated as she continued to plead for her life, her terror palpable.

"No! No, no, no!"

Damon, however, seemed more interested in tormenting his brother than in Vicki's well-being.

"What's happening?" Vicki's voice trembled with fear eyes darting around.

Damon's questions took a darker turn as he probed Vicki's memory, trying to extract information about her attacker.

"I don't need her to be dead, but... you might. What attacked you the other night?"

Vicki's response was hesitant, her memories clouded by compulsion.

"I don't know. An animal."

Damon's persistent questioning continued, and it became clear that he was trying to manipulate her memories.

"Are you sure about that? Think. Think about it. Think really hard. What attacked you?". Fear and confusion battled within Vicki as she succumbed to Damon's compulsion. "A vampire."

Stefan's desperation grew as he implored his brother to stop this torment.

"Please, Damon. Please don't do this."

But Damon's relentless pursuit of control led him to reveal the truth to Vicki, compounding her terror.

"It was Stefan. Stefan Salvatore did this to you."

Stefan's world seemed to unravel as he realized the depth of Damon's manipulation. He had been trying to protect Vicki, but his brother's actions had put her life in danger.

Damon's eerie compulsion continued as he forced Vicki to repeat his words.

"Stefan Salvatore did this to me."

Stefan's anger and frustration were palpable as he confronted Damon's true intentions.

"He's a vampire. A vicious, murder monster."

But it was Vicki's life that hung in the balance, and Stefan had to make a difficult choice.

"Let her go. Let her tell everyone that vampires have returned to Mystic Falls. Let them chain me up, and let them drive a stake through my heart, because at least I'll be free of you."

As the tension on the rooftop reached its peak, Daphne's presence became known. She had been silently observing the disturbing scene, hidden from sight, and had overheard the conversation with her magical abilities.

Daphne knew she couldn't stand idly by and allow Damon's sinister plans to unfold. She had sensed the danger and urgency, and her instincts had guided her to intervene. Her magic surged within her, and she conjured a protective barrier around Vicki, shielding her from Damon's influence.

Vicki's disoriented state began to clear as Daphne's protective magic took hold. She looked around, her eyes searching for answers and finding a glimmer of hope in the darkness of the rooftop. Daphne pulled Vicki towards her, standing in front to make sure no one attacked her.

Stefan, still grappling with the intensity of the situation, turned to Daphne confused and called out her name.

Damon, meanwhile, was momentarily caught off guard by the appearance of this unexpected force. He couldn't help but address the newcomer.

"Hmm? Who are you?"

Daphne, ignoring Damon's inquiry, remained focused on helping Vicki regain her composure and protecting her from further harm.

"You don't need to remember what happened here. Just know that you're going to be okay. You got lost, and we found you," Daphne assured Vicki, her eyes filled with empathy and compassion as she cast a memory-altering spell on her.

Vicki nodded weakly, exhaustion and relief washing over her in waves. The rooftop, once a place of fear and torment, began to feel like a sanctuary of safety under Daphne's watchful presence.

Stefan shook his head and turned his attention back to his brother, his gaze hardened with resolve, and his voice laced with warning.

"Damon, leave. Now."

Damon, for once, seemed to heed his brother's command, his smirk fading as he retreated, disappearing into the night with a parting taunt.

"It's good to be home. Think I might stay a while. This town could use a bit of a wake-up call, don't you think? Give Elena my best."

As Damon departed, the rooftop fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the soft sounds of Vicki's slow and steadying breaths. Daphne remained at her side, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

“You have a lot to explain right now. But first let’s bring Vicki back to Matt so they’ll stop searching for her.” Daphne told Stefan unsure of how to proceed with the million questions she had, “Don’t worry about his compulsion I undid it and altered her memories, so she won’t remember anything.”

Stefan nodded gratefully at Daphne's words, understanding the urgency of getting Vicki back to safety and putting an end to the frantic search for her. With Vicki in their care and her memories safely altered, they made their way off the rooftop and towards The Mystic Grill to find Matt.

The night air was thick with tension as they navigated the dimly lit streets of Mystic Falls. Stefan couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—relief that Vicki was safe, anger at Damon for his cruel manipulation, and curiosity about Daphne who had intervened in their darkest hour.

As they reached The Mystic Grill, a familiar face came into view. Matt Donovan, Vicki's brother, had been tirelessly searching for her, and his worry was etched on his face.

"Matt," Stefan called out, relief washing over him as he approached with Vicki in tow.

Matt's eyes widened in disbelief and relief as he saw his sister, seemingly unharmed, and with Stefan and Daphne Forbes by her side.

"Vicki? Oh my god, are you okay?"

Vicki, still disoriented from the night's events, managed a weak smile as she nodded at her brother.

"Yeah, Matt, just ripped my stitches wondering around."

Daphne stepped forward to reassure him. "We found her on the roof lost, Matt. She's safe now. You don't need to worry."

Matt's relief was palpable as he rushed to Vicki's side, embracing her tightly.

"So, um, thanks, both of you, her meds must have disoriented her I think." he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Daphne smiled softly, her concern for Vicki evident in her eyes. "We're just glad we could help."

Caroline and Bonnie were engaged in casual conversation observing the previous interaction. "Uhh, it's just so much drama. Ever notice how the druggies are the biggest attention whores?" Caroline remarked with a hint of annoyance.

Bonnie nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

However, their conversation took an unexpected turn when Stefan approached them, his voice polite but filled with concern.

"Excuse me, hi."

Both Caroline and Bonnie turned their attention to Stefan, offering friendly greetings in return.

"Hi."

Stefan's worry was evident as he inquired about Elena's whereabouts, and his concern for her was palpable.

"Um, have you guys seen Elena?"

Bonnie, always eager to help her friends, nodded and reached into her bag to retrieve a paper and pen.

"I think she went home. I'm gonna give you Elena's cell number and her email. She is big on texting, and you can tell her 'I said so'." She said.

As Bonnie handed Stefan Elena's contact details, their hands briefly made contact. In that fleeting moment, Bonnie was overcome by a sudden vision, a glimpse into something that seemed out of the ordinary. Her expression shifted, and her thoughts were consumed by the mysterious vision she had just experienced.

Stefan, noticing Bonnie's change in demeanor, grew concerned and asked, "You okay?"

Bonnie was momentarily disoriented, trying to make sense of the vision that had unexpectedly intruded into her consciousness. She attempted to regain her composure but couldn't help but comment on the strange occurrence.

"What happened to you? That's so rude. I'm sorry. Excuse me." Bonnie got up and left quickly.

Caroline, who was accustomed to Bonnie's occasional "wig outs," as she called them, chimed in with a knowing nod.

"Yeah, she kind of wigs out. It's like her thing. Don’t worry about it."

At that moment I decided it was time to have a private conversation with Stefan.

I approached him and spoke in a low, serious tone, "Stefan, we need to talk."

Caroline looked at me weirdly but didn’t comment on it, “I’m going to head home do you need a ride?” she asked.

I shook my head and turned to find a quieter, more secluded corner of the Grill to talk. Stefan without a word followed me away from prying eyes and curious ears. Once we  were seated and out of earshot, “So…you and your brother are vampires.” I said with certainty, “And don’t try to deny it after everything I saw tonight.”

Stefan swallowed and I could see his back straighten, “Yes we were turned a long time ago, here in Mystic Falls by Katherine Pierce, a woman we were both involved with. I’ve been living on a strict animal diet for quite a while though, he as you have already guessed drinks human blood regularly. Unfortunately, animal blood makes me weaker than your average vampire, so I couldn’t successfully compel Vicky to forget the attack.” His eyes darted around before he said with uncertainty, “What about you, I have never seen what you did with Vicky before.”

“I’m what you would call a witch, a sorceress. We come by many names, I guess.”

Stefan looked confused at my claims. “I have met many witches in my long existence but none could undo compulsions or alter memories that quickly without intricate spells and rituals.” Now it was my turn to be confused “I don’t know what to tell you I haven’t come across any witches to compare. All I know is that since very young, I can do magic.”

“Anyway back to our topic, from what I heard Damon was the one who attacked Vicky at the party and now he is trying to blame you for it?” I asked unsure. “Why would he do that aren’t you two siblings? And wouldn’t that expose him to the authorities if she ran around screaming about vampires in our town?”

Stefan exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Damon doesn’t care about consequences. Not for himself… and definitely not for anyone else. He attacked Vicky because he wanted to feed, and blaming me is just another way to make my life difficult.”

He looked me in the eyes, his voice low and tense. “And no, being brothers doesn’t stop him. It never has. Damon likes chaos—he counts on people thinking vampires are a myth. If Vicky started talking, everyone would write her off as drunk or unstable before they believed the truth.”

Stefan shook his head, conflicted “He’s dangerous. And he’s only just getting started. He wants to torture me because he sees that I’m trying to live peacefully.”

The reality of it all felt too surreal, like some twisted version of a horror movie.

"But...as you said you're not like him," I said, my voice shaking a little. "You’re trying to live a normal life, right? So why does he—" I stopped myself, not sure how to finish that sentence. Why did Damon want to make Stefan's life miserable? Why torture him?

I shook my head in frustration, my thoughts racing.

"You said he's dangerous, but... if he’s that messed up, how do we stop him?" I looked at him, searching his eyes for an answer, hoping he had one.

“Don’t worry about Damon, I will deal with him. Just stay out of his way -he’s unstable, I wouldn’t want anything happening to you.” He warned me eyes, tightened with concern.

"You want me to just stay out of the way? Like this is some bad dream I can wake up from?" I shook my head, looking at him, searching for clarity. "I’m not just some bystander in this, Stefan. He has seen me use my powers and in case you forgot I already ruined one of his plans tonight, there is no way I’m not in his sight.”

“I’m not just going to hide in the shadows and wait for something terrible to happen." My gaze hardened, determination rising in my chest. "If Damon’s as dangerous as you say and he continues to harm people I know and care about, then I’ll find a way to stop him. I’ll find a way to protect them.”

I looked at Stefan, my heart pounding in my chest.

"You keep telling me how dangerous Damon is, how he's willing to hurt people," I said, my voice a little quieter now, the weight of the question pressing down on me. "But... what about Elena?"

Stefan’s expression immediately shifted, darkening as my words hung in the air. He was always careful with Elena, always so controlled, but there was a fire in his eyes now—a protective, fierce edge that he rarely showed.

"What about her?" he asked, his voice low and guarded.

I shifted closer, searching his face. "I need to know, Stefan...are you willing to keep Elena safe? Are you willing to protect her, no matter what happens? Because, if you’re not, then everything else..." I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

I felt the rush of emotions bubbling up—fear, uncertainty—because I needed to know the answer. Elena liked Stefan, and if he couldn’t answer me, then this whole situation wasn’t what I thought it was.

Stefan was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. His jaw tightened as he looked out the window, and I could see him weighing my words carefully. It was like he was battling something within himself—fighting his own demons.

Finally, he met my eyes again, and his voice was quiet, but resolute.

"Elena..." He paused, his expression softening, but just for a moment. "I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. I’ve already lost too much to Damon, and I’m not going to lose her."

He exhaled, a deep, heavy breath, and it was as if his confession was a weight he couldn’t hide. "I will protect her. Even if that means facing Damon. Elena... she deserves a life without this darkness. And I will do whatever I can to give her that."

His words hung in the air, powerful and unflinching. There was no hesitation in his tone, no doubt in his heart.

I smiled at his words “Then our goals align. All I want is for my friends and family to be safe, that includes Elena.”

The night air was crisp as I stepped out of the Mystic Grill, the door closing softly behind me. The buzz of the bar faded as I walked into the quiet streets of Mystic Falls, the weight of the conversation still lingering in my chest, but something else was there too—something I hadn't expected: confidence.

I had always been cautious but letting fear of the unknown control my decisions isn't going to help. Tonight had been a wake up call, I could feel the magic stirring inside me, pulsing with power I didn’t fully understand yet but was never afraid of.

I am not helpless. If Damon tries anything... I'll be ready.

I glanced around the darkened streets, the familiar sight of Mystic Falls now feeling different somehow. The night had become my sanctuary, a place where my powers felt less like a burden and more like a part of me to exist without hiding. But tonight? Tonight, it felt like every shadow held danger. I pulled my jacket tighter against the cool breeze, walking faster now, heading toward home.

I knew I could protect myself. I could protect the people I cared about. And if Damon wanted to test that, if he thought for one second I’d be an easy target, he was about to learn how wrong he was.

I’ll deal with him.

The thought was like a promise, a vow that settled deep in my bones. I had no idea how I would do it—not yet—but I would. I wasn’t going to let him hurt anyone else. Not Elena. Not Stefan. Not anyone.

I reached the edge of the street and paused for a moment, the streetlight casting long shadows in front of me. The calm of the town felt almost too quiet, like the calm before a storm. But for the first time I knew my powers would be put to the test, but I didn’t feel anxious. I felt ready. No matter what happened next, I’d be ready to stand my ground.

Chapter Text

I walked a few steps behind Bonnie and Elena, listening as their conversation drifted toward the familiar tone that meant trouble. Bonnie only ever started a sentence with “I’m not saying don’t…” when she absolutely meant don’t.

“I’m not saying don’t date the guy,” she insisted, arms folding tight against her chest. “I’m just saying take it slow.”

Elena groaned. “You were the one who said to go for it.”

“And now I’m saying take it slow,” Bonnie shot back.

I quickened my pace until I fell into step with them. Her energy was… strange. Tight. Erratic. Like a room where the lights flicker a second before a storm hits. Never a good sign.

“Why the sudden about-face?” Elena asked, stopping in the middle of the parking lot.

“It’s not an about-face,” Bonnie protested, voice a little too defensive. “You’re single for the first time in your whole high school career. It’s the perfect time to play the field.”

I snorted. “Bonnie, come on. Elena isn’t the ‘play the field’ type and you know it.”

Elena’s shoulders relaxed a little at that, and she gave me a grateful smile.

Bonnie pressed her lips together. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing you say is stupid,” I told her gently. “Just tell us.”

She hesitated for a long moment, then blurted, “I accidentally touched Stefan. And I got a really bad feeling.”

Something in my chest tightened—not in fear, but in recognition. A bad feeling. Energy. An instinct.

Magic.

My mind slipped back to Stefan’s words from the night before, spoken quietly in the dim light inside the Grill. At the time, I’d brushed it off—as much as you can brush off a vampire telling you he thinks your magic is different—but now, watching Bonnie, I felt a chill roll through me. Bonnie’s instincts were too sharp sometimes. Too accurate.

Elena blinked like Bonnie had just confessed that she’d bumped into a haunted mailbox. “That’s it? Bonnie…”

“It was bad bad!” Bonnie insisted, eyes wide and serious.

I exchanged a quick look with Elena before turning back to Bonnie. “Bon, you get bad vibes from half the football team and from the vending machines when they eat your money.”

Bonnie shot me a glare, though her pout gave her away. “This is different.”

“Is this the witch mojo thing again?” Elena asked, half teasing, half tired.

“You know what?” Bonnie said sharply. “I’m just concerned, okay? This is me expressing concern about my best friend’s new boyfriend.”

I reached out and touched her arm. “We know. And we love that about you. But… I’ve talked to Stefan. A lot.”

More than they realized.

“And he cares about Elena. I can feel it.”

And I could. My magic made my perception of people more accurate and Stefan’s presence had always felt… steady. Honest. Quiet in a way that made sense.

Elena softened instantly. “Thank you,” she said, then turned back to Bonnie. “It’s been a hard year, Bon. And I’m finally starting to feel like things are getting back to normal again.” She smiled, small but real. “And Stefan is a big part of that.”

I nodded in agreement. “He’s good for her,” I said. “I wouldn’t say that if I had even one doubt.”

Bonnie huffed, arms crossing again, though the tension in her face faded. “Fine. I’m still watching him.”

I smiled. “Of course you are. Watching out for each other is what we do.”

The three of us started walking again, and even though Bonnie still looked like she wanted to monitor Stefan with binoculars and a clipboard, the air felt lighter.

But as we stepped into the morning sunlight, I couldn’t stop glancing sideways at Bonnie.

Her aura—the way her emotions buzzed, the way they reached—She couldn’t be a witch… right?
Or maybe she could, I just never noticed. I’d spent years telling myself those were just rambling old-woman tales, spoken after too many cups of sweet tea and bourbon.
Bonnie always laughed about them, saying Grams loved making things mystical.

But now? Watching Bonnie tremble from a single accidental touch? If the Bennetts are truly witches then I’m not alone in this.

We’d barely made it halfway across the parking lot when I felt it — that familiar, cool ripple of energy brushing against my senses.

Vampire.

A second later, Stefan stepped out from behind a row of cars, hands in his pockets, expression softening the moment he spotted Elena.

“Good morning, Elena. Good morning, Bonnie, Daphne.” he said, and it was almost impossible not to smile at how Elena lit up inside just hearing that one word.

But Bonnie…

Bonnie’s whole aura recoiled.

Her shoulders tensed.

Stefan didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he was too focused on Elena. He stepped closer, smiling at her, and she smiled back, the way she hadn’t smiled since… well, since everything fell apart this year.

“Hi,” Elena said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We were just—”

Bonnie moved half a step back. It was subtle, quiet, but I saw it. And I felt her discomfort like a spark against my skin.

I cleared my throat. “Actually—uh—We were on our way to find Caroline.”

Elena looked confused. Bonnie looked grateful.

I kept going. “She, um—needed us for something. Probably something about… cheer stuff? Or drama club? Or… something.”

Wow. Smooth, Daphne. Truly Oscar-worthy commentary.

But Bonnie latched onto the lifeline instantly. “Yeah! Yes, she… she texted me earlier.” She didn’t even bother pretending to check her phone. “We should go. Now.” She grabbed me and quickly pulled me towards the school.

Stefan frowned slightly, finally noticing the shift. “She doesn't like me very much.”

Elena smiled at him. “She doesn't know you. She's my best friend. She's just looking out for me. But when she does, she will love you.”

The air in Mr. Tanner’s history class felt thick enough to choke on. I watched from my usual seat by the window, my knee jiggling nervously under the desk. Tanner had switched tactics from obscure local history to a brutal, rapid-fire volley of modern dates. He knew most of the class didn’t bother memorize dates like that. It was a public flogging disguised as a pop quiz.

“World War II ended in…” Tanner paced like a shark, his gaze sweeping over our blank faces. “Anyone? Miss Juarez?” She shrugged.

“1945,” His tone was a sneer.

I saw Elena, two desks over next to Stefan, lean in. Her whisper was meant for him, but in the dead silence, it carried like a leaf on the wind. “Psst. FYI… our team sucks. They could use you.” No surprise our football team’s losing streak was the talk of the school. Maybe a vampire was what our team needed -I smirked at the thought.

Stefan leaned in to not so silently whisper to her. “Can’t. I’m a loner.”

Matt was watching the interaction in front of him like Stefan personally ran over his puppy. Which, on second thought, was what it felt like to see your ex -who dumped you, flirt with the hot new guy at school and try to convince him to join the team you were on.

“Pearl Harbor,” Tanner barked, his eyes landing on Elena. “Miss Gilbert?”

Elena jumped, pulled from her conspiratorial whisper. “Hmm?”

“Pearl Harbor. The date.”

“Um…”

Before she could fully flounder, Stefan’s voice cut in, low and definitive. “December 7, 1941.”

Tanner’s smile was a thin, victorious slice. He’d been aiming for Elena, but Stefan had stepped into the line of fire. Perfect. “Thank you, Miss Gilbert.”

Stefan’s reply was barely audible, a quiet promise. “Anytime.”

Tanner’s eyes gleamed. “Very well. The fall of the Berlin Wall.”

“1989,” Stefan answered without a breath of hesitation. He finally turned his head slightly, meeting Tanner’s gaze. “I’m good with dates, sir.”

“Are you?” Tanner stopped pacing, planting himself at the front of Stefan’s desk. The challenge was naked now. “How good? Keep it to the year. Civil Rights Act.”

“1964.”

“John F. Kennedy assassination.”

“1963.”

“Martin Luther King.”

“‘68.”

“Lincoln.”

“1865.”

It was a machine-gun rhythm, question and answer, a relentless staccato that hollowed out the room. Each date from Stefan was a stone dropped into a deep, bottomless well. He wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t recalling. He was accessing. This wasn’t a kid who’d studied hard. This was someone for whom 1865 wasn’t a chapter title, but a memory. He probably lived through most of these events in history.

Tanner, sensing his trap closing, went for the obscure. “Roe vs. Wade.”

“1973.”

“Brown vs. Board.”

“1954.”

“The Battle of Gettysburg.”

“1863.”

He was circling closer to modern military history now, the territory of living memory. “Korean War.”

“1950 to 1953.”

Tanner pounced, a predator finally seeing blood. “Ha! It ended in ‘52!”

For the first time, Stefan showed a flicker of something—not uncertainty, but a mild, academic correction. “Uh, actually, sir, it was ‘53.”

The class was dead silent. You could hear the fluorescent lights humming. Tanner’s authority was a brittle thing, and Stefan had just tapped it with a hammer. “Look it up, somebody. Quickly!”

A student fumbled with a phone under the desk. “It was 19…53.”

The defeat in Tanner’s face was a palpable thing. He’d been shown up, definitively, in front of everyone. The bell rang, a shrill salvation, and we all erupted into motion, a chaotic exodus from the battlefield. I needed to find Caroline. My sister’s particular brand of cheerful, surface-level chaos was the perfect antidote to the creeping, historical dread Tanner had just inspired.

I spotted her by her locker, a splash of sunshine blonde in the muted corridor. She was practically vibrating, applying a fresh coat of gloss with the focused intensity of a painter on a masterpiece.

“There you are,” I said, leaning against the locker next to hers. “You look… sparkly. New lip gloss?”

She smacked her lips together, beaming. “It’s called ‘Starry Night.’ And it’s not just the gloss, Daph. I am glowing. I had the most incredible night last night.”

She slammed her locker shut and turned to me, her eyes wide with conspiratorial glee. “I met someone. Like, a someone someone.”

“Okay…” I prompted, a smile tugging at my lips. Caroline’s ‘someone’s’ usually lasted a week, two max, but her delight was always infectious. “Do tell. Who’s the victim?”

“He is not a victim. He is… intense. And gorgeous. Like, unfairly gorgeous. Dark hair, blue eyes that look right through you, this smile that’s just a little bit dangerous.” She sighed dreamily. “And older. Mature. Not like these high school boys who think borrowing their dad’s cologne is a personality.”

“Older?” A faint alarm bell, quiet but persistent, began to ring in the back of my mind. Mystic Falls wasn’t exactly crawling with mysterious, mature strangers. “How much older? And what’s his name? Do I need to run a background check?”

Caroline waved a dismissive hand. “Relax, Mom. We already have a sheriff in this town. It’s all very above board. He’s new in town, just moved here. Actually…” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ll never guess. It’s so crazy. It’s Stefan’s brother. His name is Damon Salvatore.”

The world didn’t tilt. It froze. The chatter of the hallway, the slamming of lockers, the distant bell—it all receded into a high-pitched hum.

The name Damon didn’t just land in my gut. It detonated.

Caroline’s words—“Damon Salvatore”—were a spark thrown into the dry kindling of my own secret knowledge.  My magic, a low, dormant hum in my blood, had been vibrating like a plucked string.

Caroline’s arm, linked with mine, felt suddenly alien. Her human warmth was a stark contrast to the glacial fury flooding my veins. She was babbling about his smile, his confidence, his eyes. She saw a charming, mysterious older man. I saw a predator. I felt its silhouette against the fabric of our world, a tear in the normal, safe reality I tried so hard to maintain for us.

Rage, white-hot and blinding, eclipsed the initial shock. It wasn’t just fear. It was a violation. A territorial, searing fury that this creature, this night-thing, had dared to lay his gaze on my sister. My Caroline. My bright, bubbly, painfully human sister who worried about gloss and gossip and homecoming committees. He had sat across from her, with his "listening" and his "intensity," and he hadn’t seen a person. He’d seen a snack. A plaything. A spark of life he could either savor or snuff out on a whim.

“He’s perfect,” Caroline sighed again, lost in her delusion.

Perfect. The word was a dagger. Perfect predator. Perfect liar. Perfect danger.

“Caroline.” My voice came out strangled, tight with the effort of clamping down on the power that wanted to crackle from my fingertips, to seek and scorch. I stopped walking, pulling her to a halt beside a row of silent lockers. “You need to stay away from him.”

She blinked, her beautiful, empty face a mask of annoyed confusion. “What? Why? Daphne, come on, you haven’t even met him!”

“Actually, I have met him!” The whisper was fierce, a hiss of steam. I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at me, to see the terror and fury I couldn’t fully hide. My magic pressed against the back of my eyes, wanting to show her, to make her see. But I couldn’t. The secret was a cage. “There’s something wrong with them, Caroline. With both of them. Stefan… and this Damon. They’re not what they seem. They’re dangerous.”

She shook me off, her own temper flaring. “God, you are so dramatic! Are you jealous? Just because you’re into your weird books and… and quiet guys, doesn’t mean I have to be!”

Her words were meant to wound, and they did, but they were swallowed by the greater, howling wound of the truth. She thought this was about petty jealousy or overprotectiveness. She couldn’t feel the wrongness seeping from the Salvatore brothers like frost. She couldn’t know that my “weird books” were grimoires, that my quiet intensity was the focus required to keep a power I barely understood from spilling over and burning everything down.

As she stormed off toward the field, her blonde hair a banner of defiance, the rage settled into a cold, hard certainty in my core. It solidified, becoming a vow.

Damon Salvatore had marked my sister. He had entered our sphere, our fragile, human life, with his immortal games.

Fine.

Let him play his games. He had made himself a player in mine a long time ago.

The cool tile of the bathroom wall seeped through my shirt as Bonnie found me catching my breath. The flicker of power—the instinctive, magical recoil—had subsided, replaced by familiar worry. I’d calmed the immediate storm, but the pressure system remained. I needed air that wasn’t tinged with bleach and panic.

“Let’s get outside,” I suggested, steering her toward the football field. “Caroline is on her way to practice.”

We emerged into the late afternoon glare. The rhythmic thud of pads and the sharp whistle of Coach Tanner’s displeasure filled the air.

“Mr. Lockwood, is there anything you’re good at?” Tanner’s voice carried across the field, sharp as a blade. “‘Cause it isn’t history, and it sure as hell isn’t defending the ball!”

Tyler Lockwood muttered a sullen, “Yes, coach,” as I found a spot close to where the girls were going to practice.

“Now do it again!”

My eyes were drawn not to the scrimmage, but to the solitary figure sitting higher up in the stands. Stefan. He was watching with an intensity that felt analytical, not enthusiastic. He was studying them. Like a chess player.

Bonnie followed my gaze and tensed. “What’s he doing here?”

Before I could form a theory, Elena arrived, a determined smile on her face. Bonnie’s attention snapped to her.

“Oh, my God! You’re here!” Bonnie exclaimed, her cheerleader persona momentarily overriding her mystic dread.

“Yep. I can’t be sad girl forever,” Elena said, her voice carrying a fragile hope. “The only way to get things back to the way they were is to do things that were.” She then delivered her decree. “Oh, and you’re coming to dinner tonight.”

“I am?”

“Mm-hmm. You all are. You, me and Stefan.” Elena’s tone brooked no argument. “You have to give him a chance.”

Bonnie’s eyes flickered toward Stefan, then to me, silently screaming for backup. “Tonight’s no good. Have you seen Caroline? I texted her like a hundred times.”

“Don’t change the subject, Bonnie Bennett! You’re going to be there.”

“Fine,” Bonnie sighed, defeated. “I’ll go, if Daphne and Caroline go.”

I nodded “We will.”

“Good.”

My focus, however, had shifted back to Stefan. He was now walking onto the field, approaching Tanner. The coach’s body language was a wall of dismissal. I silently cast a spell to hear what they were talking about.

“Varsity trials were last spring, Mr. Salvatore.”

“I wasn’t here then, sir.”

“And you’re not here now, as far as I’m concerned.”

I leaned forward, my magic stretching out subtly, reading the currents. Stefan’s energy was a contained, placid lake, but beneath it ran deep, stubborn currents. He was not giving up.

“Mr. Tanner,” Stefan said, his voice carrying just enough to reach us. “I realize that you and I didn’t get off to the best start, and I want to apologize for that. I’ve played football before. Wide receiver, mostly, and I’m pretty good.”

Tanner’s sneer was visible even from here. “Well, I won’t be asking you who won the Super Bowl in ’71.”

I saw Stefan’s jaw tighten, a near-imperceptible flinch as he bit back an automatic, history-saturated reply. “’71 was the…Sorry. I…I understand that, sir.”

There was a long, tense pause. Tanner’s eyes roved over Stefan’s lean frame, no doubt imagining it getting pummeled by Tyler and the linemen. A cruel smile touched his lips. “Just to see you get knocked on your ass. Borrow some gear. Go! Before I change my mind. Let’s run it again!”

As Stefan moved toward the equipment shed, I saw Matt Donovan’s reaction. The hurt and betrayal on his face were raw. “First my girlfriend, now my team?”

Next to him, Tyler Lockwood cracked a cruel, knowing grin. “Dude, this is an opportunity. Football’s a contact sport. Sometimes people get hurt.” His laugh was a short, nasty bark.

A cold knot formed in my stomach. Stefan was walking into a trap, one set by both Tanner and Tyler. And he knew it. He was doing it for Elena, to be closer to her world, to seem normal. The sheer, tragic futility of it made my chest ache.

“Seriously, where is Caroline?” Bonnie’s question pulled me back. We’d moved to the edge of the cheerleading practice area.

Elena shrugged, looking concerned. “I don’t know. It’s not like her.”

“I’ll try her again,” Bonnie muttered, pulling out her phone.

Then, Caroline appeared. But it wasn’t the bubbly, gloss-perfect sister I’d argued with earlier. This Caroline marched across the parking lot with her chin held high, her body thrumming with a wounded, defiant anger I recognized all too well—it was the anger I’d put there. Our fight was still radiating from her in sharp, prickly waves.

A sleek black car pulled up, idling at the curb. The door opened, and he got out.

Damon Salvatore.

He leaned against the car, a portrait of casual, immortal arrogance. Every line of him screamed danger, a magnet for both awe and terror. My magic recoiled violently, a silent scream in my veins. The cold, ancient energy that clung to him was a darker, sharper echo of Stefan’s. Wild where Stefan’s was controlled, predatory where Stefan’s was restrained.

I watched, frozen, as Caroline’s defiant march took her straight to him. She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the front of his jacket, rose on her toes, and kissed him. It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was a statement. A rebellion. See, Daphne? This is what I choose.

My vision tunneled. The white-hot rage from the hallway returned, but this time laced with a profound, chilling helplessness. She was painting a target on her own back in neon colors, using him as the brush.

“Uh…” Elena breathed beside me.

“Oh, my God,” Bonnie whispered. “That must be the mystery guy from the grill.”

“That’s not a mystery guy,” Elena said, her voice tight with a dawning horror that had nothing to do with the supernatural and everything to do with simple, human complication. “That’s Damon Salvatore.”

Bonnie’s head whipped around, her eyes wide. “Salvatore, as in Stefan?!”

Caroline broke the kiss and sauntered over to us, a triumphant, brittle smile plastered on her face. The energy around her was all wrong—jagged and forced. “I got the other brother,” she announced, her gaze challenging me directly. “Hope you don’t mind.” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Sorry I’m late, girls. I, uh, was busy.” She clapped her hands, the sound too sharp. “All right, let’s start with the double pike herkey hurdler, what do you say? And 5, 6, 7, 8!”

The cheerleaders launched into the routine. Caroline’s movements were precise, aggressive. She was pouring all that chaotic, hurt energy into the performance.

“Elena, sweetie,” she called out, her voice saccharine, “why don’t you just observe today? Ok?” She didn’t look at her. “Keep going! Ok. Do it again from the top. And 5, 6, 7, 8!”

I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching my sister lead her squad. Every jump, every spin, felt like a taunt. Across the field, Stefan was pulling on a borrowed helmet, preparing to walk into Tyler Lockwood’s idea of an “opportunity.” And at the curb, Damon Salvatore now watched the field—his eyes lingering not on the football players, but on the cheerleaders. On Caroline.

I slipped away from the edge of the field, the sharp sounds of cheers and Coach Tanner’s whistles fading into a dull roar behind me. The taste of my own power was acrid on my tongue—a mix of fear and fury. I couldn’t stand there another second, watching Damon watch her. It felt like watching a wolf lick its chops at the edge of a playground.

The old oak tree behind the school, its roots gnarled and deep, had always been a quiet place. A place where the town’s energy felt settled, older than the brick and mortar not unlike my own tree. I pressed my back against its rough bark, the solidity of it grounding me. I closed my eyes, my fingers digging into the soil at its base.

My magic was an act of focus, of will, of bending the quiet energy that hummed in everything—in the tree, in the earth, in my own blood—into a specific, sharp intention.

I thought of Damon. Not his face, but his essence. The cold, slick aura of him. The predatory stillness. The arrogance. I poured my rage into that image—the violation of his attention on Caroline, the danger he represented, the sheer audacity of his presence here, now.

I didn’t want to kill him. I wasn’t sure I could, or even knew how. I wanted to hurt him. To make his unnatural existence as uncomfortable as he’d made my world. To give him a reason to look elsewhere.

I focused the intention into a single, needle-fine point of disruptive energy. Not a physical blow, but a psychic shockwave aimed at the core of his composure. A spike of pure, antagonistic will.

“Feel this,” I whispered into the quiet, not with my voice, but with every fiber of my being. “And leave.”

I pushed.

There was no visible sign. No thunderclap. But I felt the energy leave me, a cold dart shooting from my core, across the field, seeking the chilling signature I’d locked onto.

A second passed. Two.

Then, from the direction of the parking lot, I heard it. The unmistakable, furious slam of a car door. Not a normal close. A sound of violent intent that made the cheerleading counts stutter for a beat.

I edged back toward the corner of the building, peering cautiously.

Damon was standing by his open car door, his body rigid. He wasn’t looking at Caroline anymore. His head was slowly turning, scanning the perimeter of the field, his expression a mask of cold, incandescent fury. He looked… unsettled. Pained, in a way that had nothing to do with the physical.

His hand went to his temple, pressing hard, as if trying to silence a sudden, piercing noise. Then his gaze stopped. It locked onto my position with an unnerving, preternatural accuracy. Even from this distance, I felt the full force of his glare. It wasn’t just anger. It was recognition. And promise.

He saw me. He knew.

For a long, terrifying moment, we held the look. The ancient predator and the witch who’d just stung him. Then, with a final, searing glare that felt like a physical brand, he slid into the driver’s seat. The engine of the Camaro roared to life, not a purr but a snarl. He peeled out of the lot, leaving a cloud of dust and palpable tension in his wake.

Caroline had stopped cheering. She was staring after the disappearing car, confusion and a flicker of hurt replacing her defiant anger. She didn’t understand why he’d left so abruptly.

But I did.

The cold knot in my stomach remained, but it was now joined by a sharp, trembling thrill. It had worked. I had touched him. I had made the monster flinch.

As I walked back toward the field, my legs slightly unsteady, the reality settled over me, colder than the triumph. This wasn’t over. I knew I hadn’t scared him away for good. I’d have to talk to Stefan about this.

SALVATORE BOARDING HOUSE

The old floorboards groaned under Stefan’s weight as he entered his bedroom, the scent of aged paper and dust a familiar comfort. The comfort shattered the moment he saw his brother, lounging in the worn armchair as if he owned the place, which, Stefan supposed grimly, he technically did.

Damon held the small, leather-bound journal loosely in one hand, his eyes scanning a page with theatrical interest.

“How were tryouts?” Damon asked without looking up, his voice a velvet drawl. “Did you make the team?” He finally glanced at Stefan, a smirk playing on his lips as he tapped the diary. “Very Emerson, the way you reveal your soul with so many… adjectives.”

Stefan moved in a blur of anger, ripping the journal from Damon’s grasp. The violation was a physical sting. “What are you doing here?”

Damon held up his now-empty hands in a gesture of faux innocence. “I’ve come to apologize.” He rose, pacing with a theatrical air of contrition. “I’ve been doing some thinking, some soul searching, and… I want us to start over. We need to put the past behind us.” He stopped, placing a hand over his heart. “You’re my little brother, and if you want to live a normal, happy human life, then I want that for you. Maybe I can do it, too. That I can learn to be a non-living living person.” His expression was painfully earnest for a beat before it cracked, a snort of laughter escaping him. “Maybe there’s hope for both of us.” He collapsed back into the chair, grinning at his own performance.

Stefan’s jaw tightened. The old hope, the desperate wish for his brother’s redemption, flickered and died again, leaving ash in its place. “You know, it doesn’t have to be this way, Damon.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Damon agreed airily, his mood shifting like quicksilver. “I saw Elena today, BTW.” He paused, savoring Stefan’s immediate tension. “That means ‘by the way.’ She was at cheerleading practice. She looked so perky in her little short shorts.” He watched Stefan’s fists clench, his smile widening. “Just… simmer down, I didn’t even go near her. I’ve got my own cheerleader now.”

He stood, brushing imaginary lint from his jacket. “Ooh, that reminds me… I gotta run. I have a date. Sweaty palms. Wish me luck.” He was almost at the door when he paused, snapping his fingers as if recalling a minor, amusing detail.

“Oh, and speaking of your new circle of friends… I saw little Miss Daphne Forbes again today. Or rather, I felt her.” His playful tone iced over, his blue eyes glinting with a cold, intrigued light. “She’s got quite a… sting for a high school wallflower. Protective of her sister. Annoyingly so. It was almost impressive. Well not as impressive as when she saved little Vicky but, impressive nonetheless.” With a final, mocking salute, Damon was gone, leaving Stefan alone with the chilling echo of his words.

Stefan slowly sank onto the edge of his bed, the diary forgotten in his hand. Elena. Caroline. And now Daphne, who had somehow drawn Damon’s specific, dangerous attention. He had to do something about his brother. To protect them all.

The air in the Gilbert kitchen was thick with the scent of reheated lasagna and Bonnie’s escalating anxiety. I leaned against the doorway, having let myself in through the back, a silent observer to their pre-dinner ritual.

“You explain it,” Bonnie insisted without looking at us, chopping lettuce with a little too much force. “Last night, I'm watching Nine-o, a commercial break comes on and I'm like, I bet it's that phone commercial. And sure enough, it's that guy and the girl with the bench, he flies to Paris and he flies back. They take a picture.”

Elena gave a patient smile, pouring store-bought garlic bread into a basket. “Oh, come on. That commercial's on a constant loop.”

“Fine,” Bonnie huffed. “Well, how about this? Today I'm obsessed with numbers. 3 numbers. I keep seeing 8, 14, and 22. How weird is that?”

My ears perked up. Numbers. Sequences. Often a witch’s first, unbidden language. The magic trying to communicate before the mind understood how to listen.

“Maybe we should play the lottery,” Elena joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Have you talked to your Grams?”

Bonnie’s knife stilled. “She's just gonna say it's because I'm a witch. I don't want to be a witch.” She looked up, her eyes wide and pleading. “Do you want to be a witch?”

Elena’s answer was immediate, gentle. “I don't want to be a witch.”

I didn’t feel offended at their words. Being a witch was the best thing in my life, the energy, the world around me.

Bonnie watched as Elena artfully transferred the take-out lasagna into a ceramic serving dish. I laughed, “Putting it in a nice bowl isn't fooling anybody.”

Elena ignored the jab, flustered. “Ok, serving spoons. Where are the serving spoons?”

“Middle drawer on your left.”

“Ok, so you've been in this kitchen like a thousand times.”

Bonnie sighed, a hint of resignation in her voice. “Yeah, that's it.”

The doorbell chimed, a sharp, formal sound. Elena froze, her eyes widening. “Ok, he's here. Don't be nervous. Just be your normal loving self.” She gave Bonnie’s shoulder a squeeze before hurrying out to answer it.

The moment Elena left, Bonnie’s composure cracked. She muttered to herself, “Birthday candles.” She yanked open a drawer, and there they were, a colorful box tucked beside the tape and scissors. She stared at them as if they were a personal message from the universe. A confirmation.

I nodded toward the candles. “The numbers, the premonitions… it’s not a curse, Bonnie. It’s a sense. One that gets sharper, not quieter, when you try to ignore it.”

She looked down at the colorful wax sticks, her defiance melting into confusion. “Grams says stuff like that. She says it’s our legacy. But it just feels… crazy.”

“The world is a lot crazier than most people let themselves see,” I said, keeping my voice low. I reached out, not touching her, but letting my own energy, calm and steady, radiate toward her. A silent I’m here. I understand. “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Sometimes it’s the thing that lets you see the truth everyone else misses.”

Before she could ask the questions swimming in her eyes, the murmur of voices from the foyer grew closer. Elena’s light laughter, and under it, Stefan’s low, calm tone.

Stefan’s eyes met mine over Elena’s shoulder. There was a flicker of surprise, then a careful, assessing neutrality. He gave a slight, polite nod. “Daphne.”

“Stefan,” I returned, my tone equally polite. The air in the room was already a complex web—Bonnie’s nervous magic, Stefan’s restrained power, Elena’s very human hope, and my own watchful, protective energy.

Bonnie emerged from the kitchen then, carrying the lasagna. She paused, looking from Stefan to me, and some of the tightness in her shoulders eased. She wasn’t the only one feeling the odd currents in the room. I knew I had told her that Stefan was safe for Elena but I couldn't help thinking about his brother and the danger that my sister was in his hands.

“So,” Elena said brightly, gesturing for everyone to sit. “Shall we?”

We took our places. The dinner was a fragile, formal affair. Elena carried the conversation, a bright buffer between Bonnie’s silence and Stefan’s quiet intensity.

“Did Tanner give you a hard time today?” Elena asked, passing the breadbasket.

“Well, he let me on the team, so I must have done something right,” Stefan replied, his smile brief.

Elena turned to Bonnie, trying to draw her in. “Bonnie, you should have seen Stefan today. Tyler threw a ball right at him, and...”

Bonnie kept her eyes on her plate, pushing a noodle around. “Yeah, I heard.”

I took a slow sip of water, watching the dynamic. Stefan’s gaze kept flicking to me, as if trying to decipher my role here. I offered nothing.

Elena tried another tactic. “Why don't you tell Stefan about your family?”

Bonnie’s head shot up, a defensive glint in her eye. “Um, divorced. No mom. Live with my dad.”

“No, about the witches,” Elena pressed, her smile becoming strained. “Bonnie's family has a lineage of witches. It's really cool.”

“Cool isn't the word I'd use,” Bonnie muttered, her knuckles white around her fork.

Here it was. I set my glass down carefully, my full attention on Stefan.

He, in turn, set his own fork down with deliberate calm. His expression was one of open, academic interest, but I could see the centuries of knowledge being carefully filtered. “Well, it's certainly interesting. I'm not too versed, but I do know that there's a history of Celtic druids that migrated here in the 1800s.”

Bonnie glanced up, surprised. “My family came by way of Salem.”

“Really?” Stefan’s eyebrows lifted. “Salem witches?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded slowly, and when he spoke again, his voice held a respect that felt unfeigned, born of having seen history unfold. “I would say that's pretty cool.”

Bonnie eyed him, suspicious of the easy acceptance. “Really? Why?”

He met her gaze squarely, and for a moment, the polite mask slipped, revealing a core of genuine conviction. “Salem witches are heroic examples of individualism and nonconformity. They suffered for what they were, real or perceived. That commands respect.”

It was the perfect thing to say. Not flippant, not fearful, but acknowledging the weight of it. Bonnie’s shoulders lost a fraction of their rigidity. “Yeah,” she said, her voice softer. “They are.”

A tiny, fragile connection sparked in the room. Elena beamed, relieved. I felt my own guard lower a millimeter. Stefan wasn’t responsible for his brother’s actions at the end of the day.

The doorbell rang, a harsh, intrusive shatter of the moment.

Elena looked puzzled. “I wonder who that could be.”

“It’s probably my sister.” I told her “She said she would be a little late but I forgot to tell you.” Actually, it was the only thing she had said to me all day after our argument, but I didn’t focus on it too much I will find a way to make it up to her somehow.

Elena went to answer it. From the dining room, we heard her voice, strained with surprise. “Oh.”

Then his voice, smooth as oil. “Hope you don't mind.” Damon

Stefan was on his feet in an instant. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for Elena to invite me in,” Damon replied, the playful challenge clear.

Elena, ever polite, began, “Oh, yeah, you can…”

“No, no, no.” Stefan cut her off, moving into the foyer. “He can't, uh...he can't stay. Can you, Damon?”

Caroline’s voice, bright and oblivious, chimed in. “Get in here.”

“We're just...finishing up,” Stefan insisted, a desperate edge in his voice.

But Elena, the gracious hostess overruled. “It's fine. Just come on in.”

A moment later, they filed into the living room. Caroline looked triumphant, clinging to Damon’s arm. Damon’s gaze swept the room, lingering on Stefan’s tense form, then on Bonnie’s wary face, before finally landing on me. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips. He’d felt my spell. He remembered.

“You have a beautiful home, Elena,” he said, not looking away from me. I wish I could burn him where he stood.

“Thank you,” Elena murmured, unsettled by the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Caroline, blissfully unaware of the supernatural standoff, launched into chatter. “I cannot believe that Mr. Tanner let you on the team. Tyler must be seething. But good for you. Go for it.”

Damon finally broke his stare to smile at Caroline, the picture of supportive charm. “That's what I always tell him. You have to engage. You can't just sit there and wait for life to come to you. You have to go get it.” The words were aimed at Stefan, a barb wrapped in advice.

“Yeah, Elena wasn't so lucky today,” Caroline prattled on, shifting topics with dizzying speed. “It's only because you missed summer camp. God, I don't know how you're ever going to learn the routines.”

Bonnie, defensive of Elena, spoke up. “I'll work with her. She'll get it.”

Caroline waved a dismissive hand. “I guess we can put her in the back.”

Damon’s eyes flicked back to Elena, assessing. “You know, you don't seem like the cheerleader type, Elena.”

“Oh, it's just 'cause her parents died.” The words fell from Caroline’s mouth with her trademark brutal honesty. “Yeah, I mean, she's just totally going through a blah phase. She used to be way more fun. And I say that with complete sensitivity.”

The room went still. Elena flushed. Stefan looked murderous.

“And we can put the commentary on personal tragedies in the back, Care. Preferably outside. Elena’s where she needs to be, and I’m pretty sure ‘blah phases’ aren’t in the official cheerleading handbook.” My tone was light, almost teasing, but I knew the reproach in my eyes was unmistakable. I couldn’t believe she said that to our friend. My sister normally wasn’t so insensitive.

Damon’s expression shifted to one of theatrical sympathy. “I'm sorry, Elena. I know what it's like to lose both your parents.” He paused, letting the weight hang before delivering the calculated blow. “In fact, Stefan and I have watched almost every single person we've ever cared about die.” Yes because you are a century old.

Stefan’s voice was a low growl. “We don't need to get into that right now, Damon.”

“Oh, you know what, you're right, Stef. I'm sorry.” Damon held up his hands, the picture of remorse. “The last thing I wanted to do was bring her up.”

That was my cue. I leaned forward from where I sat in the armchair, a sweet, sharp smile on my face. “How remarkably considerate of you,” I said, my voice dripping with false warmth. “A real Renaissance man. You must be absolutely exhausting at parties.”

The room froze. Caroline’s eyes widened in shock at my tone. Bonnie’s lips twitched. Stefan watched me carefully, a new wariness in his eyes. I knew he didn’t want me antagonizing Damon.

Damon turned his full attention to me, his smirk deepening into something genuinely amused and dangerous. “Daphne. I was hoping you’d be here. I’ve been thinking about our… earlier interaction. You have quite a distinctive presence. Like a faint, buzzing insect.” He tilted his head. “One learns to swat, eventually.”

I held his gaze, refusing to blink. “Some insects carry venom, Damon. And some are just pests. You seem like the kind of guy who’d have trouble telling the difference until it’s too late.”

The air crackled with unspoken threat. Caroline looked between us, confused. “You two know each other?”

“We’ve had an… introduction,” Damon purred, his eyes never leaving mine.

Elena, desperate to defuse the tension, stepped forward. “Who wants coffee? Or, um, dessert? Caroline said you brought dessert?”

Caroline, grateful for the redirect, held up a bakery box. “Peach cobbler!”

“Wonderful,” I said, my tone shifting back to casual, though my eyes remained locked on Damon’s. “Nothing like something sweet to cover a bitter aftertaste.” I stood, moving to help Elena. “Let me get the plates. I’d hate for anything to… spoil.”

 I didn’t wait for a response, turning on my heel and marching into the relative sanctuary of the kitchen.

The hum of the refrigerator was a welcome, normal sound. I leaned against the counter for a second, my fingers gripping the cool granite. I just needed a breath. A single, solid moment without his energy poisoning the atmosphere.

I didn’t get it.

I felt him before I heard him—that specific, chilling displacement of air, the sense of a shadow falling over you even with the lights on. I turned slowly.

Damon stood in the doorway, blocking the exit, a lazy smirk on his face. He held up the bakery box Caroline had brought. “Forgot the dessert,” he said, his tone sarcastic. He set it on the island and took a single, deliberate step forward. “You know, for a buzzing little insect, you’ve got quite a sting. I felt that little headache you sent me earlier. It was… novel.”

I didn’t back up. I straightened, meeting his glacial blue eyes. “Consider it a welcome gift. A taste of local flavor.”

He chuckled, a low, humorless sound. “I’m more of a connoisseur of vintage flavors, myself. Aged, preferably. But I’m adapting.” His gaze sharpened, all pretense of amusement falling away. “Here’s the adaptation, little witch: you stay out of my way. Your parlor tricks are annoying, not impressive. And my patience for annoyances is famously short.”

The threat hung in the air between us, colder than the fridge at my back. This was it. The moment I either cowered or committed.

I took a step toward him instead of away, closing the distance. My voice dropped to a whisper, laced with a venom of my own. “And here’s my adaptation, vampire.” I let the word hang, watching for a reaction. There was none, just a slight, chilling focus. “You look at my sister again with anything other than bored, polite disinterest, and the next ‘headache’ I send you won’t be a warning shot. It’ll be a seismic event straight to whatever passes for your soul. You think you know pain? You’ve had decades to get used to yours. I can introduce you to new kinds.”

His smirk was completely gone now. His expression was blank, calculating, and utterly dangerous. “Is that a promise?”

“It’s a guarantee,” I said, holding his stare. The air around my hands grew subtly warmer, the energy in the kitchen lights flickering once. A tiny, uncontrolled display, but enough. “Caroline is off-limits. You want to play your games? Find another toy. She has enough vervain in her blood that you won’t be able to feed on her. So you don’t need her. You come near her again, and I won’t just sting you, Damon. I’ll make sure every moment you spend in this town feels like walking on ground glass. Now, thank you for your dessert but get out of my friend’s kitchen and preferably her house too.”

For a long, silent moment, we stood locked in a stalemate. I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, assessing my bluff, my power, my resolve. The predator weighing the risk of the thorn.

Finally, a slow, reluctant respect glinted in his gaze, buried under layers of malice. He gave a slight, mocking bow of his head. “Message received. For now. Enjoy your dinner, Daphne.” He turned and sauntered out, leaving me alone in the kitchen with the sound of my own pounding heart and the faint, ozone scent of spent magic.

The Gilbert house felt miles away as I shut the front door of the Forbes home. The silence was heavy, but I could feel Caroline’s presence upstairs—a tight, hurt ball of energy vibrating through the ceiling.

I kicked off my shoes and padded to the kitchen, my mind replaying the searing standoff with Damon. The threat had felt powerful in the moment, but here, in the safe, mundane light of our own kitchen, the fear for Caroline came rushing back, clean and sharp. It wasn’t just about vampires anymore. It was about us.

I found the tub of her favorite chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream in the freezer and two spoons. No bowls. Bowls were for apologies that needed formality. Spoons were for sisters.

Taking a deep breath, I climbed the stairs. Her door was closed, but a sliver of light glowed underneath. I knocked softly with my elbow. “Caroline? You awake?”

A muffled “Go away, Daphne,” was the reply.

“I come bearing a peace offering of the frozen, semi-sweet variety,” I said, leaning my forehead against the cool wood. “And I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

There was a long pause. Then, “The door’s unlocked.”

I pushed it open. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, wearing an old Mystic Falls High t-shirt, her face free of makeup and shiny from tears she’d probably deny shedding. She looked younger. She looked like my sister.

I held up the ice cream and spoons like a white flag. Without a word, she scooted over, making room for me on the floral comforter. I sat, pried the lid off, and handed her a spoon. We both dug in, the silence comfortable now, filled with the simple, shared act.

After a few bites, she spoke, her voice small. “You were so mean about him.”

I put my spoon down. “I know. And I shouldn’t have attacked you. That wasn’t fair. I was just… scared.”

“Scared of what?” she asked, genuine confusion in her eyes. “That I’d actually have a good time with a guy who’s not a total bore? That I’d do something you wouldn’t?”

I looked at her, my bright, beautiful, fiercely alive sister who wanted so desperately to be seen as grown-up and sophisticated. How could I explain the invisible world of cold energy and ancient hungers without sounding insane?

“I’m scared of you getting hurt,” I said, choosing the most human part of the truth. “He’s new. He’s older. It moves fast. I look at you and I still see the little girl who used to make me build blanket forts and who cried when her goldfish died. I just… I want to protect that girl. And I feel like you are not yourself with him. Look at his behavior tonight and the things you said to Elena at the dinner.”

Caroline’s lower lip trembled. “I’m not that  little girl anymore, Daph.”

“I know,” I said softly, my own eyes stinging. “And that’s the scariest part. Because the woman you’re becoming is amazing. She’s confident and driven and she lights up every room she’s in. And I’m terrified of anything—anyone—that might dim that light, even for a second.”

A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She swiped at it angrily. “You think Damon would?”

I took a deep breath. “I think some people see a light that bright and they either want to worship it or possess it. I don’t know him well enough to know which he is. I just reacted because the thought of anyone treating you like anything less than the treasure you are makes me see red.”

She was silent for a long moment, scraping her spoon along the bottom of the container. “Maybe you are right,” she whispered. “I was so enamored by him. I thought he listened to me. No one does that. Not really.”

My heart ached. That was probably Damon’s oldest trick, the patient predator. But hearing the vulnerability in her voice, I couldn’t attack him again. I had to trust her, even if I couldn’t trust him.

“Then be careful,” I said finally, reaching over and taking her hand. It was cold from holding the ice cream tub. “Promise me you’ll listen to your gut. If anything, anything feels off, you come to me. No judgment. No I told you so’s. Just me. Okay?”

She looked at our joined hands, then up at me. The defiance was gone, replaced by a fragile hope. “You’d really do that?”

“I will always do that,” I said, squeezing her fingers. “You’re my sister. I’m on your team, even when I’m being a massive, overprotective jerk about it.”

A small, real smile finally broke through. “You were a massive jerk.”

“The biggest,” I agreed, smiling back.

She leaned her head on my shoulder with a sigh. We sat like that for a long time, passing the ice cream back and forth until it was gone, the empty container a testament to a truce. The world outside with its Salvatores and its secrets felt far away. In this room, there was just us—two sisters in a pool of lamplight, finding our way back to each other on familiar ground. It wasn’t a solution to the danger circling her, but it was a stronger foundation. She wouldn’t face it alone.

Once Caroline’s breathing settled into the deep, even rhythm of sleep, I slipped silently from her bed. The sisterly peace we’d forged was a warm ember in my chest, but it needed guarding. Damon’s smirk from the kitchen, his glacial eyes holding that promise of later, hadn’t left me.

Our house had always felt safe. Now, it felt like a fortress under siege, and I was its only sentry.

Barefoot, I padded through the quiet, dark halls. My magic was a low hum in my veins, waking up as I moved from room to room, not with sight, but with sense. I had placed the wards years ago, instinctive, clumsy things of will and worry, reinforced over time as my understanding grew.

I stopped first at the front door, the main threshold. Placing my palm flat against the cool wood, I closed my eyes. The ward here wasn’t a barrier to entry. That would be too obvious, too easily challenged by a simple invitation from Caroline. Instead, I’d woven a subtle, insidious net of intent.

“Let no harm cross with willing step,” I whispered, the intend of my words a trigger. A shimmer of silver light, visible only to my magical sight, flared briefly in the grain of the wood, intricate as a spider’s web. The spell was keyed to the heart’s purpose. A mail carrier, a friend, even a vampire with benign curiosity could enter if invited. But if the one crossing carried malice, the intent to feed or corrupt or violate, the ward would react. It wouldn’t throw him back; it would make the very air inside the house taste of ash and regret, a psychic recoil so unpleasant it would feel like walking into a wall of pure, amplified conscience. For a creature like Damon, it would be agonizing.

I moved to the back door, the windows, repeating the check. Each point of entry held my work—a blend of protective herbs I’d embedded in the frames (rosemary for remembrance, protection and loyalty, salt for purity, a sliver of rowan wood) and the focused will of my spell. The wards were intact, thrumming with a steady, quiet power.

In the living room, I knelt before the fireplace, the traditional heart of the home. Here, I’d placed the anchor stone—a smooth, river-worn piece of granite from the banks of the river where my mother had taught me to skip stones. I placed my hands on it, sending a pulse of energy through the network. The entire house seemed to sigh in response, a gentle, strengthening resonance that vibrated in my molars. The walls felt suddenly more solid, the shadows less deep.

It would scream a warning directly into my soul the moment it was tested. I returned to Caroline’s doorway, watching her sleep in the moonlight, one hand curled under her cheek. She looked peaceful. Untouchable.

He can’t have you, I thought, the vow settling into my bones, as permanent as the wards in the walls. Not here. This is sacred ground.

Chapter Text

The digital clock on my nightstand glared a damning 8:50 PM. Kickoff is at nine. Caroline’s pre-game cheer performance has already started.

“Crap, crap, crap!”

I scrambled off my bed, a cascade of unused candles and one very old, very heavy book sliding to the floor with a definitive thump. My grimoire. I’d only meant to review the basic deflection spell—a simple push of energy, harmless, just in case—after my self-defense class. The class had left me feeling empowered but acutely aware of how useless a roundhouse kick would be against something that moved faster than sight. The grimoire was my real defense. And, as usual, its ancient, inscrutable pages had swallowed time whole.

I could already hear Caroline’s voice, sharp with wounded pride. “You missed my performance, Daphne! The one we’ve been practicing for weeks! Were your weird books more important than your own sister?”

Yes. No. It was complicated. The books were for my sister, even if she’d never understand that. It didn’t make the guilt any lighter.

I yanked a clean shirt over my head, shoved my feet into my boots without untying them, and bolted downstairs. The house was empty, charged with the silent echo of my rushed panic. I paused at the front door, my hand on the knob. A habit now. I closed my eyes for a half-second, feeling the hum of the wards—the intricate, invisible lattice of protection I’d woven into the very bones of the house. They held strong, a silver net of intent designed to make any malicious visitor feel like they were swallowing ground glass. It was the only thing that let me leave.

Then I was out, the cool night air hitting my face as I sprinted down the porch steps. The distant, tinny roar of the crowd from the school stadium was a beacon and a rebuke. I should really search for a teleportation spell when I have time.

I never meant to overhear anything.

I was cutting through the parking lot—my usual shortcut—when I saw Stefan Salvatore standing there. Before I could call out, I spotted his brother with him. Damon. A chill crawled right up my spine, and I ducked automatically into the shadows casting a simple charm to hide my presence.

I should have left.

I didn’t.

Something in Stefan’s voice kept me frozen in place.

“Isn’t that nice? Stefan joins a team, makes a friend. It’s all so, ‘rah, rah, go team, yeah!’”

Stefan didn’t even turn to look at him, “Not tonight. I’m done with you.”

Their words drifted across the field, sharp and dangerous. Then Damon mentioned Elena, vervain, compulsion. Stefan must have given some to her.

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just listened.

“After 145 years. Katherine is dead. And you hate me because you loved her, and you torture me because you still love her. And that, my brother, is your humanity.”

For a second, I could almost pretend this was just an argument between two normal brothers.

But then—

 “Salvatore! What the hell? We’ve got a game to play!” Mr. Tanner marched toward them, annoyed and oblivious.

And Damon turned.

Something about the way he moved—the ease, the speed, the hunger in his eyes—sent every survival instinct I had into overdrive.

I stepped forward, ready to act before I even realized it. Magic sparked hot in my palms, power gathering fast, instinctive and bright. I whispered the opening words of a protection spell under my breath:

“Protego vi—”

But I was too slow.

Damon blurred—faster than anything human, faster than anything I could track—and his hand was already on Tanner before the second syllable left my lips.

A sickening crack split the air as Damon shank his teeth in his throat.

Tanner’s scream died almost as soon as it began.

I stopped dead. My spell fizzled at my fingertips, unfinished, useless, Damon didn’t give me a single heartbeat to react.

My breath punched out of me. Tanner’s body hit the ground, lifeless. I stumbled fully into view before I could think better of it. “Stop!”

Damon’s head snapped toward me. His expression went from predatory to intrigued in an instant.

“Well…” he said, eyes roaming over me his grin sharpened.

Stefan moved between us so fast I almost didn’t see it and grabbed my arm. “Daphne—what were you doing here?”

My pulse roared in my ears.

“I tried—” The words scraped out of my throat. “I tried to stop him. I didn’t have time.” I’d been too slow. A man was dead because of it.

Stefan was a statue of horror and fury, his gaze locked on Tanner’s crumpled form. But Damon… Damon was looking at me.

“Anyone, anytime, any place,” he repeated, his voice a velvet mockery. “Even if a witch is standing right there with her little… light show.” He took a step toward me, and Stefan shifted to block him completely. “Tell me, Daphne,” Damon continued, peering around Stefan’s shoulder, “did your grimoire have a chapter on reaction time? Seems like a critical oversight.”

Rage, white-hot and cleansing, burned through the shock. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms. “It has a chapter on consequences,” I spat, my voice steadier than I felt. “For monsters who forget their place.”

His smile widened. “Ooh, she bites. I like that. More than just a buzzing insect, then. A wasp.”

“Damon, leave her out of this,” Stefan growled, his own control seeming to fray at the edges.

“She put herself in it,” Damon shrugged, his attention finally sliding back to his brother. “Little Miss Protective, lurking in the shadows. You know, Stef, she threatened me earlier. In a kitchen. Over cake.” He laughed, a sound that had no humor in it. “Told me to stay away from her sister. Or else.”

Every muscle in my body went rigid. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that carried perfectly in the silent field. “But look at this. You couldn’t protect your history teacher. What makes you think you can protect Caroline from me?”

The words were a physical blow. The truth of them was the worst part. I’d failed. Tanner was proof.

Stefan snapped, “She’s leaving. And you’re going to clean this up.”

Damon threw his hands up in exaggerated surrender. “Fine. Party pooper.” He turned, and his eyes found me in the shadows again. He winked. “Until next time, little witch. Give my love to Caroline.”

Then he was just… gone. One second there, the next, a rush of air and empty space.

Stefan stood alone over Tanner’s body, his shoulders slumped. He looked at me, his expression agonized. “Daphne, I’m… you shouldn’t have seen this.”

I swallowed hard, forcing the tremor out of my voice. “I shouldn’t have had to see it.”

His eyes slipped closed, just for a moment—like he agreed, like he hated that I was right.

When he opened them again, there was nothing but exhaustion in them.

“We need to do something about him Stefan. He can’t just do whatever he pleases, threaten Elena, Caroline, the whole town like we are all pawns in his game. Free to dispose of whenever.”

I took a deep breath “I’m going to find my sister. Deal with this.” I stared at his eyes intently.

I picked up my pace, weaving around the edge of the field. The game hadn’t started, the crowd was waiting but the night felt suddenly… hollow. Like the whole school was holding its breath.

“Care!” I called out.

I found her near the bleachers, still buzzing with adrenaline from her cheer performance, surrounded by a couple of giggling teammates. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, bright and carefree in a way I suddenly envied.

“Daph!” she waved. “Where’d you disappear to? You missed my amazing cheering.”

“Sorry,” I said, my voice tighter than I wanted. “I—uh—got caught up with something.”

She narrowed her eyes in that way she always did when she sensed something was wrong, but before she could prod me, a shout cut through the air from the direction of the parking lot.

“Hey! Somebody—someone call 911! Now!”

Matt Donovan’s voice. Panicked. Cracked. Wrong.

Caroline’s smile vanished instantly. “What the—?”

We exchanged a sharp look and ran. By the time we reached the parking lot, students were backing away in a wide circle. Some were crying. Some were whispering. Some were filming, because of course they were. Matt was on his knees beside Tanner’s body.

My breath stuttered.

I couldn’t look at Tanner. Not again. Not after watching life leave him like a switch had been flipped. I forced my eyes to the pavement instead—blood spatter, chalky asphalt dirt, Matt’s shaking hands.

Caroline gasped beside me. “Oh my God… is he…?”

Flashlight beams came swinging through the lot as deputies pushed through the crowd. Sheriff Forbes’ voice rang out, commanding and clipped:

“Everyone step back! Give us room!”

I watched my mother walk toward Tanner’s body, unaware her own daughter had been ten feet away when he died.

Unaware Damon Salvatore had smiled while doing it.

Bonnie appeared on my side, pale and trembling. “Daphne, you’re here—good—because—I need—” She swallowed. “I’ve been seeing numbers all day.”

I blinked at her, thrown. “Numbers?”

She nodded quickly, eyes glassy. “Three of them. Over and over. On the scoreboard. On my watch. On my homework. On a stupid vending machine price tag. Everywhere.”

“What numbers?”

She pointed with a shaking finger past Matt to the building number 8, a car's license plate 14, and the parking lot number 22

I followed her gaze—and my stomach dropped. Scattered around Tanner’s body—chalk lines from old parking spot markers, paint streaks, a smeared number on a discarded jersey bag—were the same three numbers Bonnie had been seeing.

8 — 14 — 22

Arranged like a triangle around the corpse.

A chill rippled over my skin. “Bonnie… those could just be random—”

“They’re not random,” she whispered, clutching her hands to her chest. “Daphne, I felt it. Like someone was trying to tell me something. Like something was coming.”

Her voice cracked.

“And then he turns up dead?”

I exhaled slowly, mind racing. Signs. Numbers. Warnings.

Witch powers manifest in many ways, even if Bonnie didn’t know her own yet.

“Okay,” I said softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

Bonnie tugged my sleeve, wide-eyed and terrified.

“Daphne… what do those numbers mean?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know,” I said. But God, I wished I did. “We should talk to your grams Bonnie.”