Witch or vampire?

Epilogue

Five years later, I watched my son from our bedroom window as he played in the garden behind the boarding house.

Brannon had grown quite fast and turned out an earnest child with a stubborn streak that reminded me of myself. I had to smile.

The little raven had more in common with me than most people knew, but he also bore a large portion of his mother's genes.

Especially his eyes, those large, deep-blue eyes which made it so hard to resist him. He was curious without end and more than once Helen and I had come under pressure for failing to offer an explanation regarding his various talents and our family.

When he had turned three, we had discovered that he could communicate with ravens just like me. Without being a vampire! Nobody knew if it was due to his kinship with me or because of his mother's genes. And he was fast on his short legs, way too fast for a normal child.

Meredith Fell was convinced it had been the blood I had given Helen after the car crash. We had refrained from telling her about the birds.

Helen and I had never kept her or my talents from Brannon, but we had established rules on how to use them. We played role model for him, teaching him how to keep a low profile.

Helen and I had settled down at the boarding house. She had traded Baton Rouge for Mystic Falls, Matt had employed her as a bartender and we raised our children here. Our children – I still shook my head every time I saw our second-born.

About one year after Brannon's birth, I had asked Helen to be my wife. I had gotten down on my knees, with a ring, flowers and all – and she had thought I was kidding her! I had been pissed-off while she hadn't been able to stop laughing.

Only after the third try she had agreed with tears of laughter in her eyes. Everyone else had been flabbergasted. Stefan had declared he wouldn't believe it until he would hold a written wedding invitation in his hands.

Well, two days later he had received it. I would've loved being a fly on the wall, but fortunately Elena had taken a picture with her phone. His expression had been hilarious!

Things had gone similarly with the rest of our friends – they just couldn't believe it. I knew how they were feeling – it had been pretty surreal for myself, but I had remained adamant about it. And that was why we'd had a wonderful party, organized by Caroline.

Luckily, none of our past foes had gotten a wind of it and our life afterwards. It was as if we were living under a magic cheese dome. I was strongly convinced that Jessica, Abigail and Bonnie had something to do with it.

Our relationship to Bonnie had extensively improved since she had helped rescuing us.

However, almost nine months after an unforgettably intense wedding night, our daughter Laura had been born. Helen hadn't hesitated for a moment that night. She had only reminded me of the consequences, but I hadn't stepped down.

For the first time ever, I had the chance to watch the progress of a pregnancy up close, and it had been fascinating. Months later, we had argued if I should be present during the birth at all, but I had insisted on it. It meant the world to me to support my wife while she feared it would be too challenging for my control. Of course, I had managed. I had prepared myself carefully after all.

Laura had been born a little too early and had to be taken into intensive care. It had been horrible, especially for Helen who had to fight her previous trauma again, but the little one had proven to be tough and had quickly made it back into our arms.

All of this had happened without the aid of my blood. Meredith hadn't dared to give Laura anything since we hadn't known if it would mess with her witch genes.

Our daughter was our little sunshine, always happy and her brother adored her. She was the spitting image of her mother with her red hair and her deep-blue eyes.

Just now she was running on her tiny legs from the patio towards Brannon who lifted her up and swung her around one time. She squealed with joy.

Helen followed her outside and I observed that Laura pulled at her hand and led her to one of the flower beds. The little one touched one of the plants with her index fingers and within seconds the flower grew into full bloom.

Helen looked up to the window with a surprised expression on her face – she always knew where I was.

I sighed and hoped that the three-year-old would listen to my explanation of our rules. Real life is never getting boring, I thought and walked down into the garden...

THE END

A/N: Thank you to all readers.