TVD (Rebekah) FIC
Title: So Stop Haunting Me
Author: Lint
Part: 2/?
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Rebekah, Stefan, Caroline
Category: Series AU
Archiving: LJ, Fanfic.net, or ask.
Disclaimer: All respected copyrights belong to their rightful owners.
Summary: I trust you.
/\
When Stefan gets taken again, there is no phone call, only a vague text from the boy in question.
Guy in mask. Back of car. Help.
Not her sister's mischief this time. Something dangerous. Something real.
She tries calling but it goes straight to voice mail, leading her to believe whoever has him discovered the phone. Fear and rage fuel her like nothing before, cornering Caroline, letting all the pain and frustration of the last few decades erupt.
“This is all your fault!”
Caroline, taken aback, throws her hands up in defense.
“How could it possibly-”
“Your little road trip,” Rebekah interrupts. “Kenneth was a right bastard, if you recall, I'm sure he's made many enemies over the years. Someone must have seen him with you. They probably think-”
“Stefan is Kenneth,” Caroline finishes.
“All caught up then?”
“We need to find him.”
“The GPS in his phone-”
“Please,” Caroline retorts. “I've got people.”
+
Witches are her people, it turns out, and many of them owe her favors.
Sheila Bennett is one who just happens to live in Mystic Falls, and though she severely distrusts vampires, is willing to help for Stefan's sake. There's a fourth for their little session, a girl Rebekah recognizes as one of Elena's friends, Bonnie.
Guess the secret is out now, Rebekah thinks, trying to come up with some fathomable story as to why she'd need to employ her grandmother's witch-y services.
“She's fine,” Sheila says, staring directly at Rebekah as if she read her mind. “Do you have what I need?”
Rebekah holds the bag with a few strands of Stefan's hair.
“Totally creepy you had these ready to order,” Caroline says, snatching the bag from Rebekah's hand and placing it in Sheila's.
“He sleeps in my bed,” Rebekah replies with a pointed look, noticing Bonnie's muted snicker.
There's a map on the kitchen table, herbs that drive her sinuses crazy, and fire to point the way. Rebekah is surprised that it's Bonnie, under her grandmother's watchful eye, powering the spell. A few minutes in there's a black dot in rural Kentucky, and Sheila's upturned brow telling them they have their answer.
+
It's been years since she's seen so much blood, let alone her own, spilling out from the gaping hole left in her mid section. The broken piece of staircase responsible for the damage lay on the floor next to her hand, looking at it with blurring vision, she can't even raise an arm to wipe the sweat from her brow.
Caroline will get Stefan out, she trusts that much from her sister, and maybe she won't have died in vain.
It feels like hours before hands are suddenly on her, too weak to shrug away, until recognizing their voices.
“We need to get her out of here.”
Stefan.
“Step aside Romeo, I got this.”
Caroline.
Lifted up suddenly, she feels like a cloud drifting away, eyes threatening to roll back into her head until Stefan comes into view. One hand on her cheek, he scurries to keep up with Caroline's purposeful stride.
“Will she heal?” Stefan asks.
“She needs blood.”
They set her down in the backseat of the car, Stefan sliding in next to her.
“What are you doing?” Caroline wonders aloud.
“She needs blood,” he repeats. “Drive.”
In motion now, her eyes still don't want to focus, but she feels Stefan shift against her until his neck brushes along her lips. She manages a weak 'no' before his hand is firm on the back of her head, keeping her there.
“I trust you,” he says in a whisper. Over and over again.
I trust you.
/\
Stefan and Caroline are sitting on the couch in the living room.
The sight gives her pause, not sure if she likes this new bonded in battle appreciation they have for each other. Stefan looks up with an automatic smile, which quell her doubts for now. The old picture is atop the table, bringing on a scowl.
“What are you doing with that?” She asks, taking a seat.
“One good thing came out of what happened,” Stefan answers, finger tapping on the photo.
“Do tell,” Rebekah mutters, hand moving to her stab wound, despite it being fully healed.
“We know why I look like him.”
We? She thinks, bristling inwardly.
“He's a doppelganger,” Caroline interjects.
“A what?”
“A Salvatore doppelganger,” Stefan elaborates.
“That means what exactly?” Rebekah wonders, eyes bouncing between the picture on the table and the boy on the couch.
“Not sure,” Stefan answers. “The vampires who took me weren't big on sharing except for that little gem. But it's something.”
“Something to get us started in finding out what the hell is going on around here,” Caroline assures.
We, Rebekah thinks again. Us.
Keeping a straight face is a task she never imagined being so difficult.
/\
The fifties weren't a particularly memorable decade for her, the only thing worth note was meeting James Dean in a coffee shop, before he got famous. Other than that she lived most of it in New York, worked for a newspaper, and smoked too much. Looking back she tends to dwell on the negative: McCarthyism, sexism, racism, and the constant threat of nuclear annihilation. So the thought of a dance themed after such a time, amuses her greatly.
The sight of Stefan when he picks her up, all rolled up jeans and leather jacket, hair slicked with grease and a motorcycle just over his shoulder, has her wondering if she'd forgotten the things to be more fond.
The event is in full swing when they arrive, though her ears feel violated by the modern rendition of a classic song, she still pulls Stefan out to the floor despite feeble attempts to convince her he doesn't really dance. Half a minute in, it's clearly a lie, moving well enough to the music as to not embarrass himself.
Scanning the crowd she spots Elena and Matt dancing a few feet away, Bonnie (who quickly averts her eyes) with Jeremy beyond them, and Katherine leading Tyler Lockwood around like a little lost puppy. Caroline stands in the far corner of the gym, dressed in a somewhat conservative skirt and sweater combo, watching everyone like a hawk.
It's a bit disconcerting, how protective she's gotten of Stefan since the Kentucky incident, always around in some form or another. Stefan doesn't seem to notice, or mention it if he does, insisting time and again that she has nothing to worry about.
They dance most of the night away, he brings her punch, and they talk with his friends who she's slowly come to realize are her friends too. Almost midnight, they're slowly spinning to Blue Velvet, when she says 'I love you' into the hollow of his neck. When she looks up to gauge his reaction, he just kisses her as if he never had before.
The only damper on such a perfect evening are the dead girls found in the parking lot.
/\
Four more people are dead within a week.
The company line is animal attacks, but anyone with half a brain knows it something far more sinister. Bonnie corners Rebekah in the hall, which feels somewhat out of place, as the only interaction they've shared outside the group was in her grandmother's kitchen.
“I know what you are,” she says in a way that's supposed to sound tougher than it does.
“Congratulations,” Rebekah replies drolly.
“Whatever is happening needs to stop.”
“I agree,” Rebekah says, attempting to side step away when a flash of pain blinds her vision.
Still coherent enough to grab Bonnie by the throat, she slams the girl into the nearest wall, hissing menacingly as the pain evaporates as quickly as it appeared. Fear overtaking the young witch's mojo.
“Just because I'm a vampire doesn't mean I'm the one responsible,” said through a fanged snarl. “You'd think the persecution of your kind would lead you to be a little less judgmental.”
Rebekah lets her go, slumping to the floor, and gasping for breath.
“I'm sorry,” she says in all sincerity. “That it came to that, but I am not some soulless killing machine.”
Bonnie looks up at her, defiance clear in her eyes.
“What about your sister?”
/\
Despite her petty jealousies, things between she and Caroline have vastly improved since her cathartic confession. Though her sister still drives her mad with rash decision making, a penchant for drama, and blatant affections for Stefan, their relationship is almost as it used to be.
The doubt, however, eats away at her thoughts. Because she knows what Caroline is capable of and, until now, it has never occurred to her to ask how she's been feeding because there hasn't been a body count.
When she does ask, the reaction is as expected.
“Are you being serious right now?”
“I just need to know.”
“You should already know!” Caroline shouts. “God Bekah, give me a little credit here. I'm not going to fly off the rails and start killing our fair citizens for no reason.”
“Not even because you want what you can't have?”
The look Caroline gives could wither even the strongest of people.
“So that's what this is about,” she says coolly. “You can't stand the fact that I'm so chummy with your boyfriend.”
Rebekah opens her mouth, finds no words to defend herself, and snaps it shut. Caroline folds her arms across her chest, rolls her eyes toward the ceiling, before leveling her gaze back to her sister.
“It's not about me feeling something for Stefan,” she says evenly. “You're afraid that he might care right back.”
Rebekah chews the inside of her cheek, says nothing.
“The bodies are calling cards,” Caroline continues. “Someone is trying to send us a message.”
“What kind of message?”
“You have no idea, do you?” Caroline asks. “While you're off playing the lovesick schoolgirl, rumors of a doppleganger in Mystic Falls are spreading like a gossip on the internet. Who do you think is keeping the threats away?”
Rebekah's cheeks flush with embarrassment, shame, and guilt for doubting so easily despite the many years she's felt it earned.
“I didn't-”
“No you didn't,” Caroline says flatly. “But don't worry Rebekah. Keep going to dances, on motorcycle rides, or make out sessions at the falls. Because at the end of the day, I'm the one keeping him alive.”
Part 3
Author: Lint
Part: 2/?
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Rebekah, Stefan, Caroline
Category: Series AU
Archiving: LJ, Fanfic.net, or ask.
Disclaimer: All respected copyrights belong to their rightful owners.
Summary: I trust you.
/\
When Stefan gets taken again, there is no phone call, only a vague text from the boy in question.
Guy in mask. Back of car. Help.
Not her sister's mischief this time. Something dangerous. Something real.
She tries calling but it goes straight to voice mail, leading her to believe whoever has him discovered the phone. Fear and rage fuel her like nothing before, cornering Caroline, letting all the pain and frustration of the last few decades erupt.
“This is all your fault!”
Caroline, taken aback, throws her hands up in defense.
“How could it possibly-”
“Your little road trip,” Rebekah interrupts. “Kenneth was a right bastard, if you recall, I'm sure he's made many enemies over the years. Someone must have seen him with you. They probably think-”
“Stefan is Kenneth,” Caroline finishes.
“All caught up then?”
“We need to find him.”
“The GPS in his phone-”
“Please,” Caroline retorts. “I've got people.”
+
Witches are her people, it turns out, and many of them owe her favors.
Sheila Bennett is one who just happens to live in Mystic Falls, and though she severely distrusts vampires, is willing to help for Stefan's sake. There's a fourth for their little session, a girl Rebekah recognizes as one of Elena's friends, Bonnie.
Guess the secret is out now, Rebekah thinks, trying to come up with some fathomable story as to why she'd need to employ her grandmother's witch-y services.
“She's fine,” Sheila says, staring directly at Rebekah as if she read her mind. “Do you have what I need?”
Rebekah holds the bag with a few strands of Stefan's hair.
“Totally creepy you had these ready to order,” Caroline says, snatching the bag from Rebekah's hand and placing it in Sheila's.
“He sleeps in my bed,” Rebekah replies with a pointed look, noticing Bonnie's muted snicker.
There's a map on the kitchen table, herbs that drive her sinuses crazy, and fire to point the way. Rebekah is surprised that it's Bonnie, under her grandmother's watchful eye, powering the spell. A few minutes in there's a black dot in rural Kentucky, and Sheila's upturned brow telling them they have their answer.
+
It's been years since she's seen so much blood, let alone her own, spilling out from the gaping hole left in her mid section. The broken piece of staircase responsible for the damage lay on the floor next to her hand, looking at it with blurring vision, she can't even raise an arm to wipe the sweat from her brow.
Caroline will get Stefan out, she trusts that much from her sister, and maybe she won't have died in vain.
It feels like hours before hands are suddenly on her, too weak to shrug away, until recognizing their voices.
“We need to get her out of here.”
Stefan.
“Step aside Romeo, I got this.”
Caroline.
Lifted up suddenly, she feels like a cloud drifting away, eyes threatening to roll back into her head until Stefan comes into view. One hand on her cheek, he scurries to keep up with Caroline's purposeful stride.
“Will she heal?” Stefan asks.
“She needs blood.”
They set her down in the backseat of the car, Stefan sliding in next to her.
“What are you doing?” Caroline wonders aloud.
“She needs blood,” he repeats. “Drive.”
In motion now, her eyes still don't want to focus, but she feels Stefan shift against her until his neck brushes along her lips. She manages a weak 'no' before his hand is firm on the back of her head, keeping her there.
“I trust you,” he says in a whisper. Over and over again.
I trust you.
/\
Stefan and Caroline are sitting on the couch in the living room.
The sight gives her pause, not sure if she likes this new bonded in battle appreciation they have for each other. Stefan looks up with an automatic smile, which quell her doubts for now. The old picture is atop the table, bringing on a scowl.
“What are you doing with that?” She asks, taking a seat.
“One good thing came out of what happened,” Stefan answers, finger tapping on the photo.
“Do tell,” Rebekah mutters, hand moving to her stab wound, despite it being fully healed.
“We know why I look like him.”
We? She thinks, bristling inwardly.
“He's a doppelganger,” Caroline interjects.
“A what?”
“A Salvatore doppelganger,” Stefan elaborates.
“That means what exactly?” Rebekah wonders, eyes bouncing between the picture on the table and the boy on the couch.
“Not sure,” Stefan answers. “The vampires who took me weren't big on sharing except for that little gem. But it's something.”
“Something to get us started in finding out what the hell is going on around here,” Caroline assures.
We, Rebekah thinks again. Us.
Keeping a straight face is a task she never imagined being so difficult.
/\
The fifties weren't a particularly memorable decade for her, the only thing worth note was meeting James Dean in a coffee shop, before he got famous. Other than that she lived most of it in New York, worked for a newspaper, and smoked too much. Looking back she tends to dwell on the negative: McCarthyism, sexism, racism, and the constant threat of nuclear annihilation. So the thought of a dance themed after such a time, amuses her greatly.
The sight of Stefan when he picks her up, all rolled up jeans and leather jacket, hair slicked with grease and a motorcycle just over his shoulder, has her wondering if she'd forgotten the things to be more fond.
The event is in full swing when they arrive, though her ears feel violated by the modern rendition of a classic song, she still pulls Stefan out to the floor despite feeble attempts to convince her he doesn't really dance. Half a minute in, it's clearly a lie, moving well enough to the music as to not embarrass himself.
Scanning the crowd she spots Elena and Matt dancing a few feet away, Bonnie (who quickly averts her eyes) with Jeremy beyond them, and Katherine leading Tyler Lockwood around like a little lost puppy. Caroline stands in the far corner of the gym, dressed in a somewhat conservative skirt and sweater combo, watching everyone like a hawk.
It's a bit disconcerting, how protective she's gotten of Stefan since the Kentucky incident, always around in some form or another. Stefan doesn't seem to notice, or mention it if he does, insisting time and again that she has nothing to worry about.
They dance most of the night away, he brings her punch, and they talk with his friends who she's slowly come to realize are her friends too. Almost midnight, they're slowly spinning to Blue Velvet, when she says 'I love you' into the hollow of his neck. When she looks up to gauge his reaction, he just kisses her as if he never had before.
The only damper on such a perfect evening are the dead girls found in the parking lot.
/\
Four more people are dead within a week.
The company line is animal attacks, but anyone with half a brain knows it something far more sinister. Bonnie corners Rebekah in the hall, which feels somewhat out of place, as the only interaction they've shared outside the group was in her grandmother's kitchen.
“I know what you are,” she says in a way that's supposed to sound tougher than it does.
“Congratulations,” Rebekah replies drolly.
“Whatever is happening needs to stop.”
“I agree,” Rebekah says, attempting to side step away when a flash of pain blinds her vision.
Still coherent enough to grab Bonnie by the throat, she slams the girl into the nearest wall, hissing menacingly as the pain evaporates as quickly as it appeared. Fear overtaking the young witch's mojo.
“Just because I'm a vampire doesn't mean I'm the one responsible,” said through a fanged snarl. “You'd think the persecution of your kind would lead you to be a little less judgmental.”
Rebekah lets her go, slumping to the floor, and gasping for breath.
“I'm sorry,” she says in all sincerity. “That it came to that, but I am not some soulless killing machine.”
Bonnie looks up at her, defiance clear in her eyes.
“What about your sister?”
/\
Despite her petty jealousies, things between she and Caroline have vastly improved since her cathartic confession. Though her sister still drives her mad with rash decision making, a penchant for drama, and blatant affections for Stefan, their relationship is almost as it used to be.
The doubt, however, eats away at her thoughts. Because she knows what Caroline is capable of and, until now, it has never occurred to her to ask how she's been feeding because there hasn't been a body count.
When she does ask, the reaction is as expected.
“Are you being serious right now?”
“I just need to know.”
“You should already know!” Caroline shouts. “God Bekah, give me a little credit here. I'm not going to fly off the rails and start killing our fair citizens for no reason.”
“Not even because you want what you can't have?”
The look Caroline gives could wither even the strongest of people.
“So that's what this is about,” she says coolly. “You can't stand the fact that I'm so chummy with your boyfriend.”
Rebekah opens her mouth, finds no words to defend herself, and snaps it shut. Caroline folds her arms across her chest, rolls her eyes toward the ceiling, before leveling her gaze back to her sister.
“It's not about me feeling something for Stefan,” she says evenly. “You're afraid that he might care right back.”
Rebekah chews the inside of her cheek, says nothing.
“The bodies are calling cards,” Caroline continues. “Someone is trying to send us a message.”
“What kind of message?”
“You have no idea, do you?” Caroline asks. “While you're off playing the lovesick schoolgirl, rumors of a doppleganger in Mystic Falls are spreading like a gossip on the internet. Who do you think is keeping the threats away?”
Rebekah's cheeks flush with embarrassment, shame, and guilt for doubting so easily despite the many years she's felt it earned.
“I didn't-”
“No you didn't,” Caroline says flatly. “But don't worry Rebekah. Keep going to dances, on motorcycle rides, or make out sessions at the falls. Because at the end of the day, I'm the one keeping him alive.”
Part 3