ꜱᴀᴠɪᴏʀ//ᴛᴠᴅᴜ

II.III

Destin, Florida

March 2011

Mason Lockwood hated his brother.

He hated that he was always compared to Richard when he was a kid because, according to his parents, having a brother eighteen years older than you means that expectations are set and you need to exceed them.

Mason remembers the exact moment he began to hate his brother. He was eight years old, just about to start fourth grade, which he was very proud about because it meant he tested out of third. Something that Richard didn't do.

Richard, who was twenty-six at the time, didn't like that his kid brother had done something that he hadn't done when he was a kid. So, in the true Lockwood untriggered werewolf fashion, Richard lashed out at his little brother.

Mason was sent to the hospital with a broken arm and leg, three broken ribs, a black eye, and some minor internal bleeding.

Richard told his parents that Mason fell down the stairs.

They didn't question it.

Eight year old Mason was too scared to say anything to his parents, knowing what his brother was capable of when he was angry. Fourteen year old Mason began to regret that decision when he was sent to the hospital by his brother again. Same injuries, same story, only this time it was because Mason yelled at Richard when he saw the older man slap his wife and his kid.

After that, Mason learnt to keep his mouth shut. Especially when his brother showed Mason the big hunting knife that he had purchased for a 'collection' that he was starting.

It was the only knife he ever bought.

The hate only grew when Mason triggered his werewolf curse in a freak accident. He was driving his car with his buddy in the passenger seat when a deer ran in front of them. Mason swerved and hit a patch of black ice causing him to lose control of the car, sending him and his friend into a ditch. And since his friend wasn't wearing a seat belt, he was thrown through the windshield.

Mason was angry at Richard because it wasn't fair that his big brother nearly beat him to death twice, one time causing Mason's heart to actually stop for two minutes, and he never triggered his curse.

So, when twenty-six year old Mason learned that his brother was dead, he held a party.

He took all pictures that he had of Richard, which was not a significantly high number, and burnt them all while being half a handle of Jack Daniels deep.

Then he remembered Tyler.

He knew that his brother hit Tyler, but Mason was too much of a coward to do or say anything about it directly. So Mason invited Tyler down to Florida every summer to stay with him, starting the tradition when Tyler was ten.

Tyler was the only reason Mason bothered to go to Mystic Falls for his brother's funeral. He had his bags packed, enough stuff for him to stay until the end of Tyler's junior year, his plan being to have Tyler come back to Florida with him for the summer, his car had a full tank of gas, and he had someone to house sit for him.

But then a brunette werewolf with piercing blue eyes knocked on his door five minutes before he left for Mystic Falls and told him that she was a Seer and that she saw him dying in Mystic Falls. She explained that she wanted to help him.

Mason almost slammed the door in her face.

That was until she mentioned what his older brother did to him. That was something that he never told anyone.