The Dark Twin|1|✔️

IX

Collin||

Hope's words echoed in my mind like a desperate prayer. Atlas had shut off his humanity. He'd locked himself away in darkness, a place I didn't know how to reach — except that she said I was the key. The only way to bring him back was to remind him who he was, to break through the walls he'd built, piece by piece.

There was no other choice but to bring him back to the school. But I knew it had to be more than words, more than force. There was something we had never said to each other — not once — I love you. That small phrase might be the only lifeline to pull him out of the void.

And then there was the hybrid blood — Hope's blood — a dangerous, volatile gift. It could transform me, bond me closer to him, maybe give me the strength to reach him. I wasn't sure if it would work or what price I'd pay, but I'd do anything for Atlas.

Atlas||

The streets of New Orleans were thick with fog and tension as I walked alone, hunting for answers. My senses caught a flicker of movement — one of Marcel's vampires — a daywalker, prowling in the shadows.

I approached cautiously, voice low but firm.
"Where's Marcel?"

The vampire eyed me, suspicious.
"Who's asking?"

I met his gaze.
"Atlas Niklaus Mikaelson. Marcel's little brother."

A flicker of fear passed across his face, confirming what I already knew: some saw me as my father's darker echo, especially when my humanity was off. I'd only turned it off once before, and I never wanted to feel that numbness again — not here, not in Mystic Falls.

Suddenly, Marcel emerged from the shadows. His expression was sharp.
"Sam, he's good. Leave now."

The vampire disappeared silently.

Marcel fixed me with a hard look.
"You've turned off your humanity. Why?"

I swallowed hard, voice rough.
"I killed my father with a white oak stake. Then my boyfriend looked at me like I was a monster. So why pretend I'm anything else?"

Marcel's gaze softened, and he stepped closer.
"Because you're my baby brother."

Darkness swallowed me whole.

I woke with a start — the cold steel walls of a werewolf cell closing in around me.

I called out, voice raw.
"Hope? Come on out. We all know you called Marcel."

The door creaked open, and Collin stepped in, eyes burning with quiet determination.
"No, I called him. You never told Marcel about me. But Hope — let's finish this."

Then the impossible happened.

My twin sister strode in, eyes fierce and unyielding. In a flash, she snapped Collin's neck. My heart shattered, a scream ripped from my throat.
"NOOOOOOO!"

Suddenly, every barrier, every numb shadow I'd wrapped around my heart, shattered. Emotions flooded back like a tidal wave. Rage, grief, love, and betrayal all collided. I turned to Hope, voice trembling with raw pain.
"I hate you, Hope Andrea Mikaelson."

I heard a sharp gasp, and then I saw it: the love of my life — Collin — his eyes glowing with the unmistakable glow of a hybrid.

Later, when Collin awoke and Hope finally confessed everything — why they did what they did, warning me never to trust Alaric Saltzman — the weight in my chest grew heavier.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," I called.

Collin stepped inside, his voice low but sure.
"I love you."

My breath caught. The words felt like an anchor, pulling me back from the edge.

I looked at him, darker and more dangerous than ever, and I said,
"Why me? Out of all of us, I'm the darker one. I'm dangerous — and I love it. I bring chaos. I don't fight it. I am the dark twin, and no one will change that."

He took a step closer, eyes steady and unwavering.
"At, I don't care. I love you — no matter what. Until forever ends."

Something inside me broke open. I reached out, fingers trembling as I brushed his cheek.
"Col... I love you too."

The weight of years and pain and darkness seemed to dissolve in that moment.

I whispered,
"Please... don't ever leave me. I don't think I could survive that."

He smiled softly, pulling me closer.
"As long as you promise the same."

Our lips met, slow and urgent, sealing a promise forged in shadows and light — a promise to fight the darkness together.

Later, Alone

We collapsed onto the old leather couch in my room, bodies pressed close.

His hands traced my scars, gentle and reverent.
"Every mark tells a story," he murmured against my skin.

I let my guard down for the first time in a long time, letting his warmth chase away the cold inside me.

His lips brushed mine again, harder this time, demanding and sweet.

I tangled my fingers in his dark hair, pulling him closer.

We moved like this for hours — exploring, needing, healing.

In the quiet between kisses, I felt it: hope.