Fix You

Chapter 12

How wonderful, how beautiful, when brothers and sisters get along Psalms 133:1. A verse the god fearing Giuseppe Salvatore drilled to our heads as children. More specifically mine, because the message was clearly lost on my brothers.

A rapid series of knocks on my front door is what started this. I yank open the door to my house, revealing my incredibly panicked brothers. I've never seen this level of panic from them.
"You're okay." Damon says sounding relieved.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask, puzzled.
"Also last I checked you weren't talking to me so why are you here?" I ask and watch as Damon clenches his jaw in the way that lets me know I hit nerve.
"The Mikaelsons." Damon says and I involuntarily roll my eyes at him.
"What have they done now?" I ask, not bothering to hide how bored I am.
"Almost got you killed." Damon says, downright livid.
"What do you mean almost got me killed? They would never try to kill me?" I say to him, trying hard to not get incredibly defensive.
"During their party, you got linked to them. Their mother had a plan to kill them. And I'm doing that she would have also killed you." Damon says and I look at him.
"Then what did you two do that caused you to be here in a panic?" I ask and neither of them will look at me.
"You assholes killed a Mikaelson without actually knowing if I'd survive?!" I say, the looks on their faces confirming my suspicions.
"You were willing to let me die? And for what? Elena fucking Gilbert? Who is a poor imitation of Katherine for one. But more importantly, at least in my eyes, you were willing to sacrifice your sister for a girl who can't even decide between the two of you and is really just stringing the both of you along for attention." I scream, hands trembling in rage.
"And then you have the nerve to show up here panicked, after you already made your choice abundantly clear. I'm just the fucking spare, right? The one that you can pretend to not see if you don't want to. Get out of my house, now." I snap at the two of them, shoved them back through the door. I slam it shut and start scrubbing the tears from my face. Part of me can't believe they did this to me again. Chose her again. But the larger part of me can, and it hurts just as badly as it did the first time.

For a minute, I think about calling Niklaus but I know he's dealing with his mother, and I don't think I could find his contact through the tears anyways. Instead, I scrub the last of my tears from my cheeks, silently vowing to not shed another tear over my brothers, before calmly walking upstairs to pack a bag. I throw the essentials in before walking to my kitchen and scribbling a note a page and taping it to the door. I slam my bag into the back seat of my car, not really sure where I'm going or what I'm doing. At the last second, I walk to my door and rip the note off. They don't deserve to know where I went. I block Damon and Stefan's numbers before turning my phone off and tossing it into the passenger seat.

I toss my bag onto the bed in the hotel suite I rented, switching on my phone for the first time in hours. Surprisingly there's several texts from Niklaus wondering if I'm okay. I contemplate calling before sending a simple 'I'm alive' message before flopping back on my bed. It's oddly peaceful to not have to field calls from my brothers.

Where are you? A text Niklaus comes through and I sigh.
Took a break from Mystic Falls. I send back, not giving him my exact location so he doesn't feel like he can crash.
Is everything okay? He texts back in under a minute.
Not really, but it's nothing you should worry about. I'll handle it. I respond as I sit up.
I don't think I'm gonna be back for a while, there's a key under the mat outside my front door if you need a break from the manor. I send to him quickly before shutting it off again.

I fall back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, anger and sadness threatening to overwhelm me. I'm so exhausted with feeling all the time. Feeling like I'm never good enough. Feeling like I care more about my brothers than they do about me. I'm tired of worrying and trying to help them fix things.

I sigh to myself, continuing to stare at the ceiling. I know there's something I can do to stop all this feeling. But I've never not let myself not be in as full of control as I can manage.

But some times I just don't want to have to feel. To not have to feel guilty over the fact that I'm still alive, or that I chose the wrong words when talking to my brothers.

But, mostly, I don't want to keep feeling inferior to Elena fucking Gilbert. I am so tired of struggling to get my brothers to care about any little thing in my life. The only time Damon cares is when I'm around a Mikaelson and then he goes tries to help kill them and then doesn't seem to care that he could have killed me. I was sacrificial lamb in his never ending battle to win affection from a woman who barely deserved his attention.

I put a pillow over my face, and scream until my voice goes hoarse. I'm exhausted, physically and mentally and emotionally. I've never turned off my emotions and I know what it was like when Stefan did it. The bloodshed, but maybe for me it will be different. I don't carry the same anger Stefan does, I'm not as bloodthirsty. I've never actually killed anyone. I just need a break.