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Old Masterlist

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The Beginning - 1.3k

Chpt 1 - Head Injuries and Fast Healing 1.7k

Chpt 2 - Between Shifts 1.0k

A weight settled beside her, Jeremy.

“Hey,” he panted. “It’s crazy out there.”

Fern nodded, tugging her bag closer. “Why d’you think I insist we eat here?”

Jeremy hummed in agreement, slowly but surely catching his breath. She began digging through her bag. “Did you bring lunch today?” 

“Nah, I’ll just get cafeteria food.” Fern pulled out two sandwiches, tossing one into his lap. “I’d rather you not die of food poisoning, thanks.” Jeremy rolled his eyes but nonetheless unwrapped the sandwich.

“So, how was art?” He bit into the turkey with alarming commitment, stuffing nearly half into his mouth. 

Fern peeled back her own wrapper much more tentatively, shrugging. “We’re starting a new project- a collage. I’m not sure how to feel about it. I really wanted to do some painting this week.” “Why not make a collage out of a painting?” “I asked Ms. Miller, but she said it had to be the magazine kind. Cut-outs and glue sticks, you know.”

Jeremy hummed, cramming the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, finishing it in only two bites. Fern stared at him, her gaze somewhere between disbelief and disgust.

“Did you just— two-bite that?” “Yup,” he mumbled, his mouth overflowing and spewing soggy crumbs. Fern grimaced, pulling herself a little farther from him.

“You’re disgusting.” He only grinned, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “You were in gym right? How was that?” Jeremy swallowed what was left- or most of it, anyway and shrugged. 

“Boring. We did the pacer test then some gym games.” Fern shivered in disgust,

“The pacer,” She mumbled as if she were personally wronged by the test.

“I’m never taking another general P.E. class again.” She frowned.

“I don’t blame you,” He laughed. 

A classroom door opened then, sharp against the quiet. Mr. Saltzman stepped out, his stride purposeful- until his gaze landed on them. His pace faltered. Fern tensed. His gaze caught hers for just a fraction too long– as if knowing something she didn’t. 

“S-sorry, sir, we can- we can move.” She started to gather her things as Mr. Saltzman stood there, staring. A beat too long passed before he spoke, 

“No, no, that’s fine… sorry. I just- wasn’t expecting anyone out here.” He gave a quick, awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. When he resumed walking, the confidence was gone; his steps uneven, almost hesitant. 

“That was weird,” Jeremy muttered. -

The rest of the day passed in a hazy fog. In history class, Mr. Saltzman was acting strange again- well, stranger than usual. When he had released the class to work on some handout, Fern would catch him staring at her, his gaze unfocused, maybe even searching. It was almost as if he was seeing someone else through her skin. When the bell rang and she met Jeremy in their shared English classroom, she was ready for the day to end- to be excused to focus on the mundane in life; groceries, dinner, normal things.  -

The town grocery store was practically barren at all hours of the day- today being no different. Fern pushed a cart down the aisles, somehow choosing the only one with a broken wheel. The gentle squeak made her mind drift as she looked through her shopping list, parking her cart on the far wall of the produce section and leaving to gather an assortment of fruits and vegetables. She was careful with her choices—ever since that one meal ruined by bad tomatoes, she couldn’t look at them without cringing. She set the produce straight into her cart before crossing them off her list. 

A man stood a few feet away, inspecting a pear with dutiful interest- the kind reserved for precious artifacts- art even. When he looked up, his eyes locked onto her as her own scanned her list. 

When Fern felt the weight of his gaze, she glanced up, meaning nothing but a fleeting glance. But then, he smiled. Warm and kind despite his stiff formal attire. It was familiar, not like the way anyone in Mystic Falls had ever been. It felt earned somehow, rather than practiced. 

Fern returned a smile of her own, softer than she’d expected and carried on with her squeaky cart before the strange thought could take hold. 

She ran into the same strangely dressed man again in the cereal aisle. He reached up to grab her a box of Crave from the top shelf- looking at her with a raised brow, 

“This is just sugar in a box, is it not?” His tone was teasing. A blush crept up Fern’s cheeks, she plucked it from his hand and dropped it into her cart.

“It’s still good,” She muttered in quiet defense, choosing one last cereal before leaving the aisle.

She spotted him again in the back, herself grabbing a packaging of fish and reaching for a pack of bacon.

“Should I be worried you’re following me?” His deep baritone carried easily through the quiet aisle, startling her just enough that she turned on her heel, brow arched. “Last I checked, I was here first,” she shot back, setting the items into her cart. “Well then, you must know what’s on my list.” Fern rolled her eyes, a soft smile tugging at her lips,

“Can’t say I’d have any reason to spy.” “Don’t you? Aren’t I a little intriguing?” “Not even a little.” Fern shot him a smile, marking the items off her list and turning towards the last aisle she’d need to visit. 

When she settled her groceries onto the belt, she felt herself relax if only a little- savoring that small satisfaction of a mundane task being finished. “I’m Elijah,” came a sudden, familiar baritone. She jumped for only a second, replying without a glance his way, “Do you like scaring people you’ve just met, Elijah?” Fern said deliberately, emphasizing his name, almost chastising him for the action. 

“Sometimes.” He replied, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

“Fern.” She murmured back, just a moment before the cashier started scanning her things. 

“Are you new to Mystic Falls?” she asked, noticing the cashier chatting with the bagger.

“In a sense,” he said- like there was more he could say but wouldn’t. Her brows furrowed,

“So no?” Elijah sighed,

“When I lived here things were… very different to say the least.” Fern hummed, the cashier finally glancing her way to ask for her method of payment. Elijah reached for his wallet. 

“Card.” They said in unison. Fern shot Elijah a confused glance, “It’s not your turn yet.” She stated, inserting her card into the terminal. 

“I was going to pay for you,” he replied, calm and measured. Fern stared at him, confused and calculating before the cashier handed her the receipt.  

Fern considered leaving then. Calling it a night, retreating to her car and elsewhere. But then, Elijah glanced at her, a playful glint in his eye and Fern stayed put. She didn’t quite know why it felt so easy to banter with him… but something about him… she didn’t want to leave. Not yet. So, she gathered her groceries into her cart and parked them at the wall opposite of the register, then stood by his side, intent to continue the conversation. 

He smiled as she returned, a small, simple gesture that made her heart flutter. “That’s quite the haul,” Fern said, tilting her head to the items on the belt: a pear and a package of chapstick. Elijah smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement,

“Enough to get by.” 

“Y’know, I didn’t expect to see someone like you in a grocery store.” She added after a beat, curious but careful.

“Someone like me?” He raised a brow, sliding his card into the machine. 

“Business-y… too fancy-for-life type of folk,” her eyes narrowing playfully. “Thought someone like you would have people to do your shopping for you.”

“Normally I would,” Elijah smirks, grabbing his bag and following Fern out the door. Fern paused mid-step, shooting him a strange look.

“I’m kidding.” He chuckles, falling in step beside her as they walked to her car. He helped her pack the groceries into the trunk.

“Sure you are.” She muttered with a casual roll of her eyes. 

With Ferns' car loaded up, they bid their farewells. As Elijah began to walk off, she caught herself watching him go, a strange heaviness blooming in her chest.  -

Fern hauled the groceries up the steps to her apartment, each bag heavier than the last. One by one, she emptied the trunk, filling her counters instead with the contents. When the last bag was gone, she locked her car and climbed the stairs, leaning on her door for just a moment to catch her breath before finally stepping inside. She locked the door behind her and began the slow, methodical process of unpacking each bag. The mundane rhythm of sorting produce and tucking boxes away in cupboards felt soothing, grounding her after the strange tension in the parking lot. 

Then her mind flickered, the school day flashing behind her eyes as she loaded her fridge. The distracted stares of her history teacher, the man- Elijah’s knowing smile- the way he seemed familiar in a way she couldn’t quite name. Maybe she was just tired. Maybe Mystic Falls had a knack for luring in the strange. Or maybe, just maybe, there was nothing to worry about at all. 

Closing the last cupboard, Fern settled into the seat at the kitchen counter, her textbook and notebook open, a pencil at the ready. Various colored pens and highlighters littered the small workspace. To keep herself productive (and entertained), she started a movie on her phone; Big Hero 6. 

The soft glow of the screen and the dialogue she’d heard a thousand times helped her focus- or at least made the effort easier. 

The coffee makers came next—each one ancient and temperamental, always taking their time to heat. She stood over them, arms crossed, waiting for the red light to glow before twisting the nozzles and letting the steaming water hiss out of the emptying pots. From there, the routine was mechanical: filter in the brew basket, scooping out the correct blend of grounds for each of the three machines, all muscle memory at this point. She flipped the chairs off the tables one by one, the rubber feet thumping dully against tile, wiped down every surface until it smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, and preheated the ovens.

By the time she checked the inventory and skimmed through the day’s orders, Fern’s head still felt foggy from too little sleep, the kind of heaviness that made every task take a fraction longer than it should. She rubbed her eyes and set out ingredients, frowning when she reached the first order on the list—a caramel cheesecake due at 10:30am. By the looks of it, nothing had been prepped. Either the closing shift hadn’t bothered or they’d left things half-done, and now it would look like she was the one who’d dropped the ball. Her boss would pin it on her if the order ran late, and that thought made her shoulders tighten. She set the mixer going anyway, measuring out cream cheese and sugar in practiced motions before leaving it to hum in the background. While it worked, she turned to the next task, pulling flour and eggs for the bakery’s signature pound cakes so the shelves wouldn’t sit empty when the first customers wandered in.

Her phone buzzed at 4:59 a.m., the alarm she’d set to remind herself to unlock the door for early customers. She silenced it with a flour-dusted thumb, flipped the sign to OPEN and ducked into the back again to wash up. The cheesecake batter was smooth and ready, so she covered the bowl and slid it into the fridge to rest. Next came the crust—graham crackers crushed fine, butter melted just enough to bind them—pressed firmly into the bottom of a springform pan and slipped into the oven to bake on its own. As it browned, Fern moved on to the rest of her routine: trays of muffins lined up, scones brushed with cream and dusted with sugar and a quick batch of cookies ready for the first wave of caffeine-seekers. Between setting timers, she thumbed out a quick text to her manager explaining that the cheesecake hadn’t been prepped by the night shift. Whether he believed her or not, at least it was on record.

By the time her shift ended two hours later, Fern’s clothes smelled faintly of burned coffee, and a streak of cheesecake batter had dried stiff along the side of her hair like paste. As she untied her apron, her coworker came in for the next shift, offering her a polite nod. “Morning,” Fern said, not unkindly, though the age gap between them left little room for conversation beyond that. She left the apron hanging on its hook in the back and stepped out into the cool morning air. The walk home was short, brisk enough to shake off some of the lingering grogginess. Once inside, she changed into clean clothes and rinsed her face, trying to soften the hardened patch of batter without much success. On the kitchen counter lay the same notebook she’d used for homework the night before; she slid it into her bag and set a pencil carefully into its case in the side pocket. After checking the zipper, she swung the backpack over her shoulder. With everything in order, she headed back out the door toward school.

The walk began through her nearly deserted apartment complex, quiet except for the occasional neighbor leaving for an early shift or returning from a third-shift job. The crisp morning air stung her nose and cheeks, waking her more effectively than any coffee ever could. As she neared the main streets, small groups of students began to appear, growing steadily until the sidewalks were crowded with chatter near the school. The weight of her bag tugged at her shoulder with each step, and her fingers absently fumbled with the hardened streak of cheesecake still clinging to her hair, a stubborn trace of the morning lingering on her.

Jeremy tapped his fingers against the desk. When Fern slid into the seat across from him, his eyes lifted to hers for a moment, then shifted slightly downward. “Work okay? Your head… you’re not hurting, right?”

“My head?” Fern blinked, hand hovering over her bag. She shot him a quick, puzzled look before pulling her notebook free. “What’s wrong with my head?”

Jeremy leaned forward slightly, frowning in confusion. Fern settled upright and flipped her notebook open, and he absently reached toward the hardened streak of cheesecake in her hair. “You were all bloody yesterday. You still don't remember?”

Fern blinked, frowning, her mind searching for the memory, but coming up blank. She slid her pencil out of its case and tapped the edge of the page, glancing at him with a puzzled expression.

Jeremy’s fingers froze midair as they accidentally brushed against Fern’s cheek, a faint blush creeping across his own. He slowly pulled his hand back, shifting slightly in his seat, unsure where to place it. Fern, still puzzling over his earlier words, kept her attention on the notebook in front of her, tapping her pencil softly to a slow, steady beat.

“…No? I mean, I remember going to the nurses yesterday- but I don't remember being injured?” Fern’s voice was low enough that only he could hear, her fingers pausing over the notebook as she tried—and failed—to place the memory.

He opened his mouth to say more, but the teacher’s soft reminder to quiet the class signaled the start of the lesson. Jeremy leaned back in his chair, frowning, while Fern shifted slightly, turning her notebook to better face her.

“Hey.. where were you yesterday?” He asked, not looking up from his phone.

“Uh, what do you mean?” Fern asked, twisting the combination lock open and grabbing her math book. 

“You ditched me at the party yesterday, I thought you were just staying outside.” Fern paused for a moment, racking her brain for some kind of reason. But the one she found, didn’t make any sense;

“I was… with your sister.” She murmured.

“I thought you didn’t like Elena.” Jeremy led the duo into their math class, sitting across from her at their respective table.

“I-I don’t dislike her- we just don’t have a reason to hang out or anything.”

“So why did you yesterday?” 

“I don’t know..” She said after a moment, searching her memories for any semblance of a clue of why she’d ditched her best (and only) friend.

“I don’t even really remember yesterday,” Fern rubbed her temples, her headache morphing into something akin to a migraine. 

“Hey, you okay?” Jeremy whispered as the teacher began her lecture. Fern kept her eyes closed tightly, tensely nodding her head with furrowed brows as she fought off the oncoming pain.

When the class had ended, Jeremy had swiftly slung his bag over his shoulder, having haphazardly shoved his used stationary into the bag. Fern was much more methodical, carefully closing her notebook so as not to bend any pages, setting her pencil and highlighters into a pencil case and sliding them into her bag. This to say, Jeremy was rushing her out the door. Perhaps not verbally rushing her, but standing at the edge of her desk while she packed up. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go out back, d’you wanna come with?” Jeremy offered as they exited the math class, Fern shook her head. 

“Nah, I got art this period- I’ll meet you out there for lunch though.” Jeremy shrugged,

“Suit yourself.” 

Fern walked herself to the art studio, feeling immensely comforted by the prospect of the familiar setting. The smell of spray paint and sawdust lingered forever in the air and while this would usually feel like home, the strong scents made her skull pound. 

“Buenos dias,” the Spanish teacher, Mr. Romano greeted, holding open the door for Fern.

“Gracias, senior.” Fern feigned a curtsy.

Sitting at her desk, Fern popped in her earbuds. Not for the purpose of listening to music or an audiobook- but instead to help drown out the noise that filled the room. She grabbed her sketch book from her bag, flipping through the various pages to a blank one and began to make… something. At the time, it didn’t matter, just pencil to paper in jagged lines and smooth circles. After a while, the sketch began to take shape, a body limply placed, a dark hole in the center of the chest. But only when her desk mate mentioned anything did she notice.

“Woah, that’s cool.” Dana had complimented. Fern stared at the picture for a second more, the sight seeming so known but… so out of reach. Fern shrugged,

“Thanks.” 

For the next hour and a half, Fern tried relentlessly and fruitlessly to remember the scene. Was it in a movie? Was it real? Was she just delusional? The more the answers evaded her the more she focused on trying to find them somewhere in her memory. 

Sitting herself next to Jeremy, he offered her a joint, looking away from her as he let out a puff of smoke. Fern considered it for a moment, letting out a hefty sigh as she took it, taking a drag and severely coughing for the next several minutes. Jeremy laughed, harshly patting at her back. Fern passed it back, rummaging through her bag for her water bottle. 

“How was class?” Jeremy asked, passing the joint along. Fern chugged half the contents of her water bottle, screwing the cap back on and rifling through her bag once more.

“Weird… I can’t really explain it but it was just… weird?” Jeremy sat there for a moment, just watching as Fern grabbed a saran-wrapped sandwich from her bag.

“Weird how?”

“Deja vu weird. I drew something I don’t really remember but I do..?”

“Maybe it was a dream?” He suggested, grabbing and taking a bite of Ferns sandwich. 

“Maybe..” She sounded doubtful, grabbing her sandwich back and taking a few bites herself.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you about this morning, are you okay?” Fern shrugged, a wave of pain cascading over her brow.

“I- my head just hurts a lot,” Fern muttered, leaning forward to more easily put pressure on her skull. 

“Woah, what’d you do to your head?” Jeremy touched the back of her neck, where her neck molded into her cranium, the flesh there sensitive and immediately making Fern wince and shuffle away.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“There’s blood in your hair..” He gently removed some specks, being careful not to pull on the strands and he cleared the way to better assess the damage. 

“And your scalp is scabbed over..” Jeremy trailed. Fern struggled, unable to recall what would’ve caused this to happen. Jeremy hugged her into his side,

“I’ll ask Elena later, kay? Don’t worry, Foliage, for now, let’s get you to the nurse.” Jeremy helped her up, walking with Fern slowly to the nurse, offering her a shoulder to lean on despite her insisting she was fine to walk on her own. So, Jeremy urged they walk slow- just in case Fern needed to rest or couldn’t walk any faster. 

When the bell rang and Fern was sat in the nurses office, she felt utterly drained. The nurse was nowhere in sight and Jeremy sat next to her, remaining unmoving despite Fern telling him to go to class.

“You’re more important than P.E… much more important.” 

Fern swung her feet idly, waiting endlessly for a nurse who would seemingly never show. 

“Maybe, maybe we should just go to class,” Fern said, almost twenty minutes into their time alone in the office. Jeremy seemed aghast at the suggestion, 

“Look, I’ll go find someone, just stay here, okay?” Fern sighed, not having a chance to make a counter offer as he had already left the office. 

“Hey, you’re Fern, right?” A brunet asks, entering the nurses office and closing the door behind him. Immediately Fern is on guard. 

“Who’re you?”

“My name’s Stefan,”

When Jeremy and the nurse come back, the nurse does a once over to the area Jeremy talked to her about. 

“There’s nothing here.” She stated definitively, glaring at the two,

“Look, if this is some ploy to get out of class, I’m not impressed. Get out.” 

“Can we at least get a hall pass?” Jeremy pleaded, not believing there to be absolutely nothing to be found.

“No.” Fern sighed, standing from the plasticy bed and dragging Jeremy with her.

“Why was I in the nurses office?” Fern murmured, 

“We missed so much class for nothing!” 

“What’re you talking about? You had this huge gash on your head, here I’ll prove it!” Jeremy stopped in his tracks, spinning Fern around and inspecting the injured area, only to find nothing at all. 

“Well?” 

“I- there’s nothing… that’s not.. how?” Fern sighed,

“We should get to class.. thanks for your help, Remy.” Jeremy stood frozen as Fern walked down the corridor utterly astounded and confused. 

When Fern walked into class, all eyes were on her. This to be expected from someone who is almost forty minutes late to a ninety minute class. Mr. Saltzman paused mind sentence, watching her from the moment she walked in to the moment she sat down before he continued on with his lecture. He soon dismissed the class to read a section of text on their own, afterwards setting a note on Fern’s desk telling her to meet him after class.

“So do you have a late pass?”

“N-no sir, the nurse wouldn’t give me one.” Fern murmured, feeling awkward and isolated standing at his desk. Mr. Saltzman sighed, shuffling through some papers. 

“I can’t just excuse you missing the first half of class, Fern.” He stated, checking his watch,

“I’m going to have to talk with your parents about this. I’ll send them an email this afternoon.” Fern paused, momentarily confused,

“My parents..? I understand that coming to class late is inexcusable and I apologize. But the nurse didn’t give me a hall pass.”

“And how do I know that you were with the nurse?”

“I suppose you could ask her? Or check the sign in sheet. Look, I’m sorry it happened and it won’t happen again.” Fern stated, looking at the clock. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to my next class.” Mr. Saltzman sighed,

“I’ll still be emailing your parents, Fern.” She hadn’t had the time to correct him (or maybe she just wanted him to be embarrassed when he found out the truth) as she rushed out the door to her next class. 

Finally, it was time for Fern to head home. Her last class went quickly, despite the boringness of her English teacher, Jeremy would work hard to make her snicker. 

But, Fern was happy to be homebound at last. She’d need to make dinner… but what? Eggs? Mac and Cheese? Toast?

She really needed to go food shopping. That’s tomorrows problem she’d decided. Trudging up the concrete stairs, Fern was wheezing as she leaned against her door.

“Jesus, I need to work out more,” she huffed. Finally crossing the threshold, she locked her door and sat her stuff on the ground beside the kitchen island. Running a hand through her hair, she let out an exhausted sigh. 

A sudden knock came to her window, her body flinching at the sudden unexpected noise. Cranking the window, she stared at the brunette tiredly, 

“Should I grab him?” She asked, gesturing her head towards the Lockwood estate. Elena, Jeremy’s older sister nodded,

“Yeah, I think that’d be for the best.” Fern sat her book on the dashboard, switching off her car and locking it as she got out. 

“Right, lead the way.” Fern nodded, tucking her keys into a pocket. 

Fern stood about 2-3 inches shorter, they didn’t particularly get along but stayed an awkward amount of civil for Jeremy’s sake. 

About 50 feet from the door, Elena fell to the ground, shortly followed by Fern after getting struck on the skull. 

When she came to, Fern was groggy and disoriented. She felt lightheaded and strangely sticky. When she could, she opened her eyes, the world spinning like a top, making her clutch at her head and immediately shut them again. 

“Fern?” Elena's panicked voice sounded muffled and distant. Fern opened her eyes once more, her gaze flickering around as the room continued to spin.

“Lena?” She sounded horrible. The kind that would have a mother feel for your temperature and insist you stay in bed till you’re better.

“Shh,” Elena soothed, pressing a torn bit of her shirt to the back of Fern’s head. 

“Don’t move..” She whispered. Fern complied, finally able to make out her surroundings, she took a brief look around. She was laid on a dusty, painfully worn couch- her back practically touching the ground. Books littered the floor, many pages ripped from their bindings and scattered around the room. Planks covered barren windows, doing little to stifle the stiff autumn breeze. 

“How’re you… feeling?” Elena asked after a moment, keeping pressure on the back of Fern’s head. 

“My head hurts.” She mumbled back, her voice remaining raspy. Elena pursed her lips, not meeting Fern’s gaze.

“I’m sorry… bout all this.” Elena offered, confusing the younger girl. But, before she had a moment to question her, a man burst through the door. 

“This is a bad idea, Rose,” he began, seeming panicked, erratic even. His eyes shot to Fern, the look in them almost feral. ‘Rose’ sped over to him, taking his face in her hands. The speed of which she moved frightened Fern; it was unnatural, unhuman. For a few tense moments, the duo spoke, Ferns head throbbing painfully making it impossible to focus. She whimpered, clutching at her head, Elena softly hushing her in response. 

A swift knock came from somewhere in the house. ‘Rose’ sped away whilst the man paced the length of the room. Fern closed her eyes, listening to the constant creaking of old rotting floorboards. Soon, two sets of feet approached, the man froze, the creaking stopped. Silence ensued for no more than two seconds. Then a man spoke,

“Human… impossible,” his voice smooth and deep and had the circumstances been different, Fern might’ve swooned at the sound. She pried her eyes open, coming eye to eye with a suited brunet man. For a moment, he seemed surprised- though composed himself rather quickly. But, before the man had a chance to approach, Elena blocked Fern from his view. 

“She’s not part of this.” She stated, her voice unwavering. He glared heatedly at Elena, motioning to Rose. In a second, Elena was in Rose’s grip, out of Elijah’s way and immensely startling Fern.

“Be calm, Elskan..” He whispered, moving slowly so as not to startle her further. His hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheek bones. 

“I won’t hurt you.” He promised softly. Fern sniffed pathetically, her head injury making her delirious she’d decided. The man studied Fern for a long moment, each person sitting anxiously of what he might do.

“You’re hurt..” He stated, his hands moving her face to get a better view of the injury. She grimaced, feeling her skull throb at every small movement.

“E-Elijah,” The homeless looking man called, stealing his attention off her. The man, ‘Elijah’ glared at the other, igniting a series of anxious rambling. 

“Have her, a meal or a-a token of gratitude. Ple-please I beg of your forgiveness,” he finally ended, offering up Fern as nothing more than a bartering chip. 

“So granted.” Elijah stated, a sickly smile gracing his lips before the mans head was detached from his shoulders. Fern sat paralyzed, staring at his neck as it spat like a bloodied fountain. For a moment, that was all there was. The sound and sight of this mans blood pouring buckets out of his biggest artery. Fern couldn’t tear her focus away, entranced by the sight- thousands of sounds and thoughts rushing behind her eyes. 

The man- Elijah rushed over, his hands cupping Fern’s face once more. 

“Don’t cry, Elskan,” he whispered, his thumbs wiping over her tear stained face. But, her eyes never moved from the decapitated corpse. Elijah moved into her field of vision, blocking her from the gore. Still, Fern remained frozen, unblinking. Thinking too much to the point she wasn’t at all. To the point she was just a shell- not alive but existing. Elijahs eyes searched Ferns face, Ferns eyes seeming to look through the suited man. 

“Come, we have a long journey ahead of us.” He spoke, picking Fern up with ease and gesturing to Elena. 

“Wait! What about the moonstone?” Elena called, her voice desperate. Elijah paused, turning to face Elena,

“What do you know of the moonstone?”

“I know you need it.” She said, now much more meek.

“Where is it?” He demanded.

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Are you negotiating with me?” He sneered, looking to a heartbroken Rose.

“First I’ve heard of it.” She forced out. Elijah balanced Fern against his torso, grabbing and throwing Elenas necklace elsewhere.

“What is this vervain doing on your neck? Where is the moonstone?”

“In the tomb,” came Elenas automated reply.

“What’s it doing there?”

“It’s with Katherine.”

“Interesting..”

A sudden shattering came from a floor above, Elijah going tense and holding Fern more firmly to his body in a protective stance. 

“Who else is here?” He growled.

“I don’t know..” Rose said softly. Another shattering sounded.

“Rose.” 

“I don’t know!” She stated much more firmly. Elijah flashed over, gently settling Fern into Roses’ hold, then shoving Elena into Roses’ side. 

“Stay here.” He demanded, flashing away to investigate. 

Fern couldn’t focus on anything, still feeling incredibly overwhelmed and detached. At some point, she was sat down, her body slumped limp against a crumbling wall.

“Fern!” Elena called, searching for the shorter girl. Fern couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move, she could hardly focus enough to hear Elenas approaching footsteps.

“Fern,” Elena whispered, coming face to face with the younger girl. 

“Hey, d’you wanna go home?” She tried again, setting a comforting hand on her shoulder. Fern nodded, forcing herself to her feet. 

“Y-yeah, I wanna go home.” She whispered, taking Elenas outstretched hand, trusting her to lead her somewhere safe.

“She shouldn’t have to live with this! Did you see how she reacted?” Elena spoke to two men whilst Fern sat idly in their car.

So, Fern went home after spending a nice day with Elena and her friends. 

"What was her problem?" Jeremy asked, taking out an earbud. "No clue." Fern settled her bag on her shoulder, "See you tomorrow?" She asked, walking with Jeremy into the corridor. "You're not going to the dance?" Fern scoff laughed, "A 70s themed high school dance? No. I have homework that'll be more entertaining than that." Jeremy laughed. "Yeah I wish I could stay home. Elena's making me go." "Damn, that sucks." "You know.." "Whatever you're about to say, no." "You should come, make the whole thing less unbearable, y'know?" "Nope." "Come onnn, please? I'll buy you food?" Fern perked up, "I choose." "Deal." "Deal." Fern walked back home, now (over)thinking the night and deciding well before whether on not she'd enjoy the outing.

Luckily, women were allowed to wear jeans in the 70s. She paired her blue jeans with the only belt she owned and the only 70s item ever in her possession; a black button down t-shirt with colorful squiggly lines, triangles and dots. And since she (and any sane person) doesn't own a neon scrunchie, her outfit was complete. She laced up her shoes, grabbed her keys, threw on a zip up hoodie and left.

The school was bustling. Not as much for a holiday party assumedly, but still busy enough to be anxiety inducing.

She contemplated leaving for a few minutes, staring at the doors of a self imposed prison. Ultimately, her guilt overrode her need to leave, she heaved a heavy sigh, finally entering the school.. again. The moment she walked into the gym she was overwhelmed with horrible 70s dance music. Ferns already soured mood practically doubled as her anxiety rose with every blast of the bass heavy speakers.

But, as she looked around, she found a lack of one fuzzy haired Gilbert. Her shoulders tensed further, sensing a pair of eyes staring her down. In a room so crowded, naturally Fern wouldn't be able to pinpoint a gaze- which of course tripled her nerves. An arm draped around her, heavy and clad in a dark hoodie. And though she jumped at least a foot in the air, she wasn't scared past the initial startle. She knew this hoodie, she herself had worn it numerous times.

"Hey Jer," She murmured, relaxing only slightly.

"How'd you know it was me?" He whined, having hoped for more of a reaction.

"This is like, your all time favorite hoodie, I wouldn't be surprised if you've never washed it."

Jeremy laughed, shoving her shoulder,

"I wash it!"

"Just.. not often."

"Grooss!" Fern laughed, shoving him back. Jeremy led the duo to the snack table, pouring a drink of punch and offering it to Fern. She snorted in response,

"It's definitely spiked." She winced, pushing his outstretched hand away from her.

"Duh, that's what makes it good." Fern rolled her eyes, settling instead for a canned coke. Jeremy took a hearty swig, gagging at the taste. Fern snickered, taking sips of her own drink.

"I though you said you weren't coming." Dana stated from behind the duo, arm crossed over her chest, her brows furrowed in a glare.

"Y-yeah, sorry.. there was a uh, change in plans." Fern murmured, avoiding Danas gaze and running a hand down her arm for some semblance of comfort. Dana scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, perhaps Dana really was mad at Fern but the next moment, she was covered in Jeremy's punch.

"Whoops." Dana glared, sauntering back onto the dance floor. Ferns eyes immediately puffed with unshed tears, her shirt now sticking uncomfortably to her body, alongside the smell of vodka punch and blaring music, Fern was sent straight into a panic attack. Tears streamed down her face in fat rivers as she ran out of the gym, Jeremy hot on her heels. She paced up and down the hallway, trying to get some semblance of control over herself before she'd decide her next move. She shook her hands erratically, as if trying to wring them of the vodka punch- though nothing was shaken off.

"Fern, Fern breathe." Jeremy stated, taking one of her shaking hands in his and placing it above his heart. The steady rhythm soothed her, gave her something to focus on and slowly, her own heartrate returned to a normal state. Even with her steadied breathing, Fern still felt the effects of her panic, feeling particularly susceptible to slip into hysterical sobs at any given moment. Jeremys hand stayed solid against hers, holding them to his chest.

"Why don't you go shower?" He gestured towards the gym locker rooms.

"It's not ideal, but it's better than sticky, yeah?" Fern nodded, not trusting herself to make a coherent non-hiccupy response. Jeremy peeled off his jacket,

"To change into." Ferns lip wobbled in response. She meant to thank him - say anything really, but a fresh wave of tears stopped her. So, instead, she went to the girls locker room for a shower.

She stood under the steady spray for what felt like ages, running her nails over once sticky skin- the flesh there turning an agitated red. Her anxious tears flowed in time with the water and even as she toweled off, she couldn't stop.

When she had dressed, the sight she saw in the mirror was not a surprise but nonetheless depressing. She looked like Jeremy after a particularly long time smoking. Fern laughed - though it sounded more like a choked sob. Needless to say, she felt like shit and she didn't look much better.

"I'm never going to another one of these." She grumbled, leaving the bathroom, her sticky clothes clutched close to her chest. Jeremy smiled sympathetically.

"I'm um... gonna head home." She muttered, wiping her tear stained face with the arm of Jeremy's jacket.

"I'll walk you home." He offered.

"No that's.. that's okay. I uhm.. need a bit of time alone." Jeremy nods,

"Text me when you get home at least?" Fern nods, sniffling pathetically and heading out.

The school welcomed her, warming her to the bones in minutes. Fern made her way through the student body, the people and noise overwhelming her immensely.

"Hey," She huffed, settling beside Jeremy.

"Here's your jacket by the way." She stated handing the fabric over to the brunet.

"Oh.. that's okay, Fern, you can keep it." Jeremy stated, draping it over her. Fern grumbled about how he'd be cold without it and focused on the various equations their teacher scribbled on the board.

"Nothin' like meth in the mornin'." Fern muttered, packing her things back into her bag.

"I thought you liked meth?" Jeremy asked, standing over Fern whilst she shuffled around.

"Well sure, but not at 7 in the morning." Jeremy shrugged,

"I never liked it." Fern threw Jeremy a playful look,

"I know. I'm off to art, you comin'- or are you actually going to class today?"

Jeremy 'pondered' the question for only a moment as the duo left their math class,

"What a difficult decision, how ever will I choose?"

"You're skipping, aren't you?"

"Yep." Fern rolled her eyes, holding open the studio door for Jeremy.

"What a gentleman," he joked.

"I try."

Dana gave the two a teasing smile,

"If it isn't the two lovebirds, how're you two today?" Jeremy sputtered- sounding like he was choking on his tongue, Fern flushed her ears feeling aflame.

"We're- we're not... together." She muttered. Dana shot them a doubtful look, looking between the duo skeptically.

"Yeah, right." She laughed, looking back to her phone and leaving to the duo to their awkward silence.

Jeremy and Fern stood dumbfounded, avoiding each others gaze. Fern gathered her required materials- a thick board, glue, quite a few magazines and scissors.

"I already forgot what my plan was for this.." Fern muttered, Jeremy laughed.

"Do something else then."

"Easier said than done, my mind is about as desolate as a nuclear wasteland."

"Hey! A nuclear wasteland?" Fern flipped through various magazines,

"It'll have to be very green... and beige... I can work with that."

Looking through all the magazines they had, Fern began snipping necessary photos.

"D'you think it'd be tacky if for the background I cut out all the letters and words and wrote out a warning message?"

"I think that'd be metal."

"Course I'd have to paint it for a kind of dark sky effect..." Fern muttered to herself, mulling over the idea.

By the end of class, Fern was sticky. Glue covered her fingers and a bit of her hair as she tended to hunch close to the paper and accidently glue her hair to it. She had made progress- the background was about a quarter way done (not including the foreground nor the actual reactor).

Jeremy and Fern settled onto the concrete carpeted floor. The history hall was completely vacant, a welcome change to the overcrowded main hallways. Fern pulled her lunch out of her bag, her usual sandwich and apple in her hands. Jeremy made no move to get his own food- from his bag or otherwise.

"Aren't you eating?" Fern asked, peeling off the wrapping of her sandwich.

"Nah, cafeteria food sucks an I forgot to pack my lunch." He stated, picking lint off his jeans. Fern grumbled, poorly halving her sandwich. Fern gave Jeremy the bigger one.

Jeremy did attempt to protest, though with a swift piercing glare from Fern, his voice died down and he accepted the food.

"Thank you." Fern hummed her response, stuffing her own half into her face.

The duo parted ways after lunch, Fern heading towards the history wing and Jeremy towards gym. Fern sank into her seat, realizing almost immediately her teacher was no where to be seen. A certain comfort settled into her bones and she so dearly hoped he was absent.

But, unfortunately, that was not the case. The second Mr. Saltzman walked in, his eyes were locked on Fern. He looked surprised- as if he didn't expect her to be sat there of all places.

His mouth opened and closed quite a few times before noise finally came out,

"Hello." He muttered, finally averting his gaze.

Fern didn't know how to feel. Something about that interaction seemed inherently gross but there was also a part of Fern that was inexplicably peeved with him. Feelings are weird. Fern decided, ignoring herself.

Mr. Saltzman seemed.. out of it- to say the least. For starters, he wasn't really teaching, more so listing the happenstances of various decades in random order. And of course he wouldn't stop staring at Fern.

By the end of class, Fern's skin crawled in discomfort.

"Fern! Uh, stay back a minute?"

She really wanted to ignore him, act like she hadn't heard and keep walking. But, she didn't.

"Yes, sir?" He shuffled through papers- searching for a reason to have her stay back for just another moment.

"Hey, Foliage," Jeremy greeted, coming up behind her, Fern relaxed, just slightly- but enough for Mr. Saltzman to notice. His eyes hardened, his jaw tightening almost painfully but still he forced a smile,

"I've seemed to misplaced your last paper, would you print it again, please?" Fern was confused. Her las printed paper was from a month and a half ago- and it was already graded. Nevertheless, Fern complied and the duo left for English.

Monday morning. A source of pain and mental anguish for most of the population. Fern included. She was incredibly bitter as harsh wind lapped at her face. Her shivers only slightly subsiding when she plopped into the plastic chair of her Chem class. "Mornin," Jeremy muttered from the desk in front of hers. Fern grumbled a reply, settling her head on her lab desk. "Sleepy?" "Oh I'm wide awake after walking a billion years in the cold." She snapped, "Sorry, I'm just f-freezing." She muttered, her teeth clattering. Jeremy took off his jacket, handing it over to Fern. "Jer, no. You'll be cold." He shrugged, "I'm fine, Fern. I deadass sweating- take the jacket." "Even more reason not to- that's gross." Jeremy gave Fern a pointed stare, slowly morphing into a glare until Fern (reluctantly) took the hoodie. Fern sighed, now content and warm. Soon enough, class started and Fern scribbled down notes.

"What's a covalent bond?" Fern snorted, "Jer, we just went over this in class, weren't you paying attention?" "Uh, not really, no." Fern rolled her eyes, smiling fondly at the brunet, "I'll tell you later, we have to get to class." "I'll skip!" He declared, being met with a swift glare from Fern. "Nooo!" He whined dramatically, Fern pushing him in the direction of the history classroom.

After making sure Jeremy went to class, Fern went to the library for her study hall. She popped in her earbuds, sorted through her folders and started working on her homework.

Wrong. A few hours pass and a rhythmic knock comes to her door- right in the middle of Big Hero 6. Fern was thankful she had yet to change into her nighttime wear as she unlocked her door. Standing there was suit man, 5.29 on the dot.

Fern gave an incredibly long sigh. Elijah offered an amused smile, extending his arm for her to take. Fern shut her door for only a moment, gathering her phone, keys and slipping on her shoes. She locked her door, turned and saw Elijah eyeing the box and envelope.

"Oh.. uh they were just left here.." She lamely explained.

"Are they yours?"

"Not sure, there's no address or anything." A look of realization crossed his features,

"I see."

Fern nodded, gesturing for him to go downstairs first.

"Oh, no- please, ladies first. I insist."

"I'd uh, rather not, thanks."

"Very well." Elijah made his way down the stairs, Fern following after to a very expensive looking car. Fern tried not to gawk too obviously, sure she was impressed- but she didn't need him to know that. He held open her door, offering a hand to help her in.

The interior was sleek and rather modest; instead of a screen showing all available amenities, there were buttons. The screen offered acted only as a navigation device. The seats themselves were the most comfortable thing she'd sat on by far. The cushions molded to her body perfectly, embracing her just right. And unlike her own car, this one didn't have obviously replaced polyester, or poorly sewn patches on the seats.

It was... nice.

Elijah himself sat beside Fern, shooting her a pointed look,

"Seatbelt, Elskan." Fern blushed, quickly fastening herself to the vehicle. She was embarrassed she'd taken more time staring at his obvious wealth than preparing for a dinner she didn't want to attend.

The drive started out simple enough, a comfortable silence settling between the two as Fern zoned out. That is, until she remembered, she never told him her address.

"How'd you know where I live?" She murmured, staring out the window, not necessarily talking to but still aiming the question at him. Elijahs gaze flickered to her for just a moment before refocusing on the road.

"Jenna told me." He lied. Fern knew it too. Jenna didn't know where Fern lived. Neither did Jeremy. If Mr. Saltzman had told him, that would be illegal. But she wouldn't press. Not while she was rather defenseless in his car.

As the car moved closer and closer to the forest, Fern grew increasingly paranoid, fear crawling up her veins. Maybe she was being lured to her death.

"Are we... going the right way?" She asked, unable to keep the nervousness from her voice. Elijah glanced at her again, a strange look crossing his face,

"The Salvatore family were once loggers." He explained.

"Before they ran a boarding house." This did little to calm Fern- she had no idea if he were telling the truth. It was only when the massive manor was in sight that Fern let her shoulders slump a bit.

Elijah shifted into park, rushing over to help Fern out of the car before she'd even had the chance to unbuckle her seatbelt. Fern stared dumbly at him for a moment, wondering to herself how he was so fast.

Slowly, she freed herself from the comfortable confines of the car, taking his outstretched hand to help her from the car. Elijah kept their hands clasped as they approached the door, Fern unnoticing as she took in the Salvatores obvious generational wealth. Elijah knocked softly at the door, swiftly being face to face with an obnoxiously smirking Damon.

"How nice of you to join us, please, come in." Damon stepped aside, gesturing to his expansive home. Fern made a move to enter, Elijah- still unmoving- caused Fern to stumble back into him, unaware they were connected.

"Just a moment." Elijah caught her with ease, his eyes never leaving Damons,

"If you were planning anything.. untoward, I would strongly advise you to reconsider." Elijah smiled, a certain malice in his eyes. With that, Elijah pulled Fern over the threshold alongside him.

Fern detached herself from the man, anxiously and uncomfortably raking her nails across her arm.

"Apologizes, Elskan. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." He muttered, offering a soft apologetic smile. Before Fern had a chance to stutter her reply, the remaining guests took notice of the duo, ushering them over. Elijah was quick to strut over, Fern following at a much slower pace.

"Where's Jeremy?" Fern asked a moment later, feeling rather alone in a room full of semi unknown adults.

"Oh, he had a shift at the Grill." Jenna waved off.

Fern practically recoiled in shock. He has a job- and he never told me? Fern frowned, seating herself next to Jenna. Why wouldn't he tell me? Elijah seated himself on the other side of Fern. Andie and Damon passed around plates, Andie "accidently" dropping some food into her lap. Fern sighed, picking lettuce off her lap until the rest was settled in her napkin- then picking up and dumping the contents of her napkin on her plate. This was going to be a hellishly long dinner.

Fern pushed her food around her plate, occasionally stuffing a bite of under seasoned steak or salad into her mouth.

"So, Fern, how's high school going for you?" Mr. Saltzman asked, most definitely abruptly changing the topic of a conversation Fern wasn't paying attention to. Fern shrugged,

"It's fine..." She muttered.

"Oh I'm sure it's great with your boyfriend Jeremy." Damon smirked, watching as Elijah tensed beside Fern.

"We're not-"

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Fern. Everyone has a high school love." Damon continued. Fern slouched against her seat, residing to her fate of being ignored- even in her own conversations. She stabbed at her salad, feeling full more on her nerves than her food.

The adults continued to converse around her, Fern not being addressed again for the rest of the meal.

"Why don't the ladies go clean up while the men have a drink in the study?" Damon offered, concluding the eating portion of dinner.

Fern was gob smacked for a moment. She hadn't heard someone so close in age say something so blatantly sexist in- well, ever. She was more shocked, however, when the women made no comment, just stood and did as they were told. Fern remained unmoving, her brow furrowed.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked after standing from his chair.

"Just dandy." She practically spat, grabbing her plate and walking to the kitchen.

Fern scrubbed her dish, handing it to Jenna who worked on drying- then handing it to Andie who put it away. Jenna gasped suddenly, Fern almost dropping the next plate,

"I forgot about dessert!" She exclaimed, grabbing it out of the fridge and reading the instructions. Fern grasped her chest, waiting for the painful thrashing to cease.

When the dishes were finished, Fern washed her hands and left the already vacant kitchen, finding Damon, Mr. Saltzman, Jenna and Andie- but no Elijah.

"He left, said he had something to take care of." Damon said, watching as her eyes dart around for the suited man.

Fern couldn't complain, she was socially awkward and anxious. Though she couldn't ignore the ever present need to shower after every shift. She'd routinely stumble through her door caked in flour, her sweat making it stick to her even more. Even after a scorching shower, the flower would still find crevasses to stick in.

So, Fern crawled into bed, still well before sunset and fell asleep rather quickly. Her phone rang loudly only about two hours after she lay down for bed. Fern groaned equally loud in response, hating her phone- and caller in that moment.

"Hello?" Her voice was groggy and disoriented, her words instead coming out as 'he--o?'

"Don't tell me you're just now waking up!" Jeremy cackled on the other end.

"It's like.. 7." Fern huffed.

"Did you need something?" She snapped, feeling horribly sleep deprived and upset by her friends unending laughter. Jeremy snickered only a second more,

"Just wanted to hang, I'm going to the Grill..?" Fern thought about it for moment,

"When?"

"Uh.. right now?" Fern huffed- almost cried. She'd have loved to hang out with Jeremy but she was also exhausted.

"I... 'd love to. But I'm super eepy seepy, alas."

"Nah, it's chill, go back to bed, broski." Fern hummed, hung up and burrowed back into her covers.

The next morning, Fern woke up at 9am. A disgusting time to be awake, truly. So, Fern stayed nestled in bed, thumbing through her favorite romance novel. Regardless of a plethora of spelling errors, cringy plot and two dimensional characters, the story held a special place in Fern's heart.

The book had once been her mothers, worn and loved, highlighted and written over in her moms script. She found it funny how her mother had corrected most of the book in red pen- practically re-wrote it really. It might've been a bit weird, reading a romance novel and thinking of her mom, but, it was one of the few possessions of hers Fern still had. When she'd finished her book (again), a few hours had passed and Fern was starving. She considered rummaging through her cabinets for what little food she had - but then she thought of Jeremy and how she'd slept through his outing invite the day prior.

+ Hey Jer, wanna grab somethin to eat?

+ Yeah, chill + The grill?

+ Ye, sure

+ Cool, I'll meet you there in 5 ish

+ 👍

Five minutes would not be enough time as she still lay in her bed, clad in baymax pajamas. She dressed herself as quickly as she could in a pair of brown corduroy pants, a cream sweater and horribly worn tennis shoes. A second later, she added a belt after realizing her pants would not stay up on her journey.

She arrived only ten minutes late- to which she was shocked she'd made it in so little time. Panting, she settled herself across from Jeremy,

"Hey," She heaved, Jeremy snickered.

"Hi."

"Sorry I'm late," She said after a moment of heavy breathing. Jeremy shrugged.

"It's fine, just hoped you weren't ditching me again." Fern grumbled incoherently,

"What kind of psycho is up at 7 on a weekend?"

"Fern, it was 11."

".. oh." Fern shrugged,

"Still." Jeremy gave a breathy laugh, his face morphing into a lingering dazed smile. She rolled her eyes, thanking Matt as he brought them waters. He took their orders, Jeremy with a basket of fries, Fern with a bacon burger.

Fern closed her eyes, resting her head in her palm.

"Sleepy, Foliage?" Fern hummed in response,

"Hunger, body shutting down-" her arm dramatically fell out from under her chin. Jeremy nodded solemnly,

"Here lies Foliage, stolen from us far too soon," he wiped a fake tear from his cheek. Fern snickered.

"Dead people don't laugh, Fern." He chastised, smiling fondly back at her. Fern rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out,

"I no longer play by your rules, mortal."

"If it isn't baby Gilbert," a raven haired man called, sliding into the booth beside Fern.

"And who is this adorable friend of yours?" Though Jeremy's mood visibly soured, his eyes never strayed from the (now noticeably uncomfortable) Fern.

"Fuck off, Damon." Damon smirked, wrapping an arm around Fern,

"I'm Damon," he purred, trying to entice the young woman. Fern smiled uncomfortably, her face forming more of a grimace than an actual smile.

A tense silence settled among the trio as Damon reached up and twirled a lock of Ferns hair in his fingers. His hand dropped as Matt approached with their orders,

"A burger with fries and a side of fries."

"Thanks Matt." Fern murmured, her discomfort suddenly stifling her appetite. Damon picked up a fry, setting it at her mouth- when she didn't budge, he shrugged and popped it into his own mouth.

"What do you want, Damon?" Jeremy practically growled out, his jaw so tense it was a surprise it didn't break.

Damon munched on another fry,

"Who says I want anything?" A woman approached their table- one Fern recognized from the news; she came on just before the weather guy. She slid into the now full booth beside Jeremy.

"Hi! I don't think I've met either of you! I'm Andie, Damons girlfriend." Andie practically snarled that word at Fern, seeing how close the two were (much to her own displeasure). Fern averted her gaze, smushing herself further into the wall of the booth.

"Hi..." Fern muttered, staring at her untouched burger.

"Loosen up Andie, you're scaring the poor girl." Damon forced his arm around Fern, pulling her into his side with ease.

Then three more people approached the table.

"A fuckin party." Jeremy bit out angrily. Amongst the three was Jeremys legal guardian- Jenna (known to Fern as Ms. Sommers)- their history teacher- Mr. Saltzman, and suit/stalker man, Elijah. Fern wasn't quite sure he could be considered a stalker yet, but he did make her very uncomfortable. Elijahs eyes were glued to Fern - or more specifically, the arm wrapped snugly around Fern from the second he entered the restaurant.

Fern contemplated leaving for a long moment- though ultimately decided against leaving Jeremy with the bill. She was better than that.

So, she slumped back against the booth (and unfortunately Damon). The adults of the group talked amongst themselves, Fern pretending to be anywhere but there. Perhaps her apartment- or maybe somewhere nicer with high ceilings and glass roofs... that's a greenhouse, Fern. Okay, so maybe she'd rather be in a greenhouse.

Until Jenna called her name,

"Hm?" Her eyes met Jennas, though she could feel the stares of everyone at the table.

"We were talking about having a dinner party at the Salvatores, you in?"

"Oh, uh..." Before Fern had a chance to lie,

"Of course she's coming, I'll pick you up, say, 5.30?" Damon interjected, smirking down at Fern.

"I can't!" Fern declared,

"I have.. l-leftovers." She muttered, much more meek, kicking herself for the lame excuse. For a moment, the adults seemed to ponder what was said, but ultimately she was ignored.

"I will pick her up." Elijah stated, glaring daggers at Damon.

"Good idea! Damon and I will have some hosting duties to attend to before guests arrive!" Andie beamed, shooting Fern a dirty look of her own.

"You want somethin to eat?" He offered, rolling off the couch. "Uh.. sure," Fern felt awkward, significantly awkward. Jeremy shuffled through kitchen cabinets, finally offering Fern a package of goldfish. Fern thanked him, munching on the comfort food as he led her to his room. "I've got Brawlhalla, Minecraft and... uh I think that's it for multiplayer." Jeremy said, sorting through game packagings. "Minecraft?" Fern offered, sitting herself on his bed. Jeremy popped in the disk, turned on the console and tossed Fern a controller.

For a few hours, Fern and Jeremy played almost mindlessly. That is until a frantic knock came to his bedroom door. Jeremy sent Fern a strange look, tentatively opening the door to his sister. She seemed spooked, pale. "What's up?" He asked hesitantly as to not further scare his sister. Elena didn't meet his eyes, instead looking on the other side of the door, then locking eyes with Fern. "You okay?" Fern asked, watching Elena nod slowly, "Yeah- yeah! Just.. uh thought I... lost something but I remember where it is now." Elena rushed out, smiling nervously and waving goodbye to the duo, speed walking away. Jeremy shrugged, shutting his door and turning back to Fern. "We have potate." Fern smiled, harvesting from their little farm. "Potate!" Jeremy yelled, running in a little circle. Fern laughed, checking her phone and suddenly standing. "Shit, I've gotta go. Thanks for having me, Jer." "Yeah, here, let me walk you out." Walking downstairs Fern kept checking the time- as if willing it to slow down. "Right, see you next week," Fern waved, on the verge of running away. "Bye!" Jeremy yelled.

Fern was already late, she hoped he wouldn't be there yet. Just not yet. Luckily, Jeremy's house was only a few blocks away. Unfortunately, that included an intersection light that takes like eight minutes to turn. So, Fern stood (impatiently) waiting for the light. "Do you need a ride, Elskan?" Suit man -- Elijah rolled down the window of his car. Fern practically jumped out of her skin, startled by his sudden presence. "Uh, no thanks." Elijah stared at her as if not expecting that response or even considering it as an option. Before he got a chance to respond, the light changed and Fern ran down the street.

"Hello there, Elskan." A suited man- the suited man spoke. Ferns head whipped around, finding the isle empty aside from the duo. She stared at the man for a moment, he just seems so familiar... "Sorry, I think you've got the wrong person." She offered a tight lipped smile, moving around him to continue her shopping. "Wait!" He called, seeming desperate as he reached out for her. Fern turned back to him, staring oddly. The man cleared his throat, dropping him arm and adjusting his suit. "Sorry... I'm sure it's you. We met just a few days ago after all." "I've never met you." Fern stated definitively, grabbing a package of bread from a shelf. The man stared at Fern, looking upset for a brief moment before regaining a monotonous demeanor. "In that case, allow me to introduce myself, my name is Elijah." He stated, holding out his hand. "Fern.." She went to shake, instead her wrist being lifted to his lips in a chaste kiss. "Nice to meet you, Fern." He smiled, like that wasn't the weirdest interaction anyone has ever had in a grocery store. "Uh.. yeah, you too.." She mumbled uncomfortably. After that ordeal, Fern expected this Elijah man to leave her alone- but, he followed her throughout the store, helping her grab items from taller shelves and trying to make conversation. Fern didn't really respond much, however- trying not to give him the wrong idea-- that she was comfortable. When Fern stood in the checkout lane, Elijah finally left, apologizing whilst taking a call. Fern was quick to pay and load up her car, eager to escape his attention.

By the time Fern lugged her groceries to her door, she was exhausted. Her body ached after her weight lifting class- and now wither her groceries, her arms felt like jello. Putting her things away, Fern collapsed on the couch. She was tired but she didn't want to sleep, not quite yet. She'd been sleeping far too much directly after school. So, she texted Jeremy. + Ayo, whatu doin? + Bout to hop online + U? + Want sleep but not yk + Ah + Alas, I cannot assist with that dear foliage + Play cards or somethin idk + Brooooing + *Boring + lol

Fern sighed pathetically, stretching out her limbs and dropping her phone on the floor. She ran her hands tiredly over her face, I could use a nap. Fern forced herself back into a sitting position after having practically slouched off the couch. She contemplated leaving the couch but ultimately decided it to be too much effort and flopped back. Prepared to spend her night on the couch, Fern made herself comfortable laying back and grabbed her phone from the floor. Before getting the chance to even unlock her phone, a swift rhythmic knock came to her front door. Fern flinched so violently she fell off the couch. Jumping to her feet, Fern approached her door cautiously. Looking through the peephole, she found no one at her door - but a box. It was simple with brown cardboard and clear shipping tape. But there were no markings on the box whatsoever. No shipping address, nor return address. Fern was anxious. She didn't know what this was -- if it were dangerous or if it were actually for her. Fern poked the box, hiding behind her door as a shield. When the box made no weird noise nor exploded, Fern contemplated opening it. But, her paranoia got the better of her. With her foot, Fern pushed the box to the side, then closed and locked her door. She slumped against her door and sighed. Checking her phone, she groaned. Barely ten minutes had passed. Fern huffed, deciding to go to bed early after all.

When her alarm blared the next morning, Fern contemplated turning it off and going back to bed. Then she considered Jeremy and with a heavy sigh, she switched off her alarm and got up. Fern rubbed exhaustedly at her face, she really didn't want to move. With every fiber in her body, she willed herself to get up, changed and out the door. Once locking the door, her foot met paper. Looking down, there was an unmarked envelope. Fern stared at the envelope for a few minutes, suspicious of its contents, she set it atop the box. Then, she walked to school. The weather was getting colder and Fern was getting increasingly more worried. If it was already this cold in October, Fern was doubtful her winter wear would do her any good.

By the time she got to school, she was miserable. She sat beside Jeremy and laid her head against her desk. "I hate school.." She groaned, her eyes drooping. Jeremy leaned back against his chair, his arms crossing, "Then why're we her? We could ditch." Fern stared at Jeremy for a few moments, "So I walked for ten minutes in the cold for nothing?" Jeremy considered her for a minute, "After first then?" "After second." Fern negotiated, looking forward to ditching and hanging out with Jeremy. But, she was also looking forward to her art class and working on a new project. They were moving onto a collage unit and Fern was excited. There was something about recycling random pictures and supposed 'junk' that she found peaceful. It was easy, almost thoughtless but beautiful in the passions portrayed.

About 4 minutes into the seemingly endless class, Jeremy passed Fern a drawing of a simple smiley face, Fern adding to the drawing and passing it back to Jeremy. This continued for the entirety of their lesson, finally ending with a detailed drawing of a derpy looking man standing in a luscious park. Fern dated the paper and shoved it into her messenger bag, Jeremy briskly leaving class whilst Fern stumbled behind him. "Hey, I'm gonna go and hang out back, d'you wanna come?" Fern shook her head, "Nah, I got art this period- I'll meet you out there for lunch though." Jeremy shrugged, "Suit yourself."

Fern walked herself to the art studio, feeling immensely comforted by the familiar setting. The smell of spray paint and sawdust lingered forever in the air, paint stained desks made up most of the room. "Buenos dias," the Spanish teacher, Mr. Romano greeted, holding open the door for Fern. "Gracias senior." Fern feigned a curtsy. Sitting at her desk, she popped in her earbuds and grabbed her worn sketchbook. Fern wasn't paying much attention as her pencil sketched marks into her book, only coming back to reality when her desk-mate sat next to her. Then she took notice of her portrait. The rough outline of a man impaled into a wall. "Woah, that's cool." Her desk mate, Dana complimented. Fern stared at the picture for a second more, the sight seeming so known but... not being able to remember what from. Fern shrugged, "Thanks." For the next hour and a half, Fern tried relentlessly and fruitlessly to remember the scene. Was it in a movie? Was it real? Was she just delusional?

Sitting herself next to Jeremy, he offered her a joint, looking away from her as he let out a puff of smoke. Fern considered it for a moment, letting out a hefty sigh as she took it, taking a drag and severe coughing for the next several minutes. Jeremy laughed, harshly patting at her back. Fern passed it back, rummaging through her bag for her water bottle. "How was class?" Jeremy asked, passing the joint along. Fern chugged the contents of her bottle, screwing the cap back on and rifling through her bag again. "Weird.. I can't really explain it but it was just.. weird?" Jeremy sat there for a moment, watching Fern grab a saran-wrapped sandwich from her bag. "Weird how?" "Deja vu weird. I drew something I don't really remember but I do..?" "Maybe it was a dream?" He suggested, grabbing and taking a bite of Ferns sandwich. "Maybe.." She sounded doubtful, grabbing her sandwich back and taking a few bites herself. "Where were you yesterday? I tried to text you but you didn't respond." "It's crazy, I was hanging out with Elena- but I don't know why?" Jeremy looked at Fern oddly, "Where?" "That's the thing! I don't know! It was yesterday and I couldn't tell you a thing about it. Just that we hung out." Fern stressed, taking a particularly harsh bite of her sandwich. "That's.. really weird." Was all Jeremy could say, his brows furrowed in concentration. Fern sighed, "My head hurts too much for this." She fell forward, grabbing an apple from her bag. "Woah, what'd you do to your head?" Jeremy touched the back of her skull, the flesh there sensitive and immediately making Fern wince. "What's wrong with it?" "There's blood in your hair.." He gently removed some specks, pushing her hair out of the way to see her head more clearly. "And your scalp is scabbed over." "I don't- I don't, why?" Fern struggled, unable to recall what would've caused this to happen. Jeremy hugged her into his side, "I'll ask Elena later, kay? Don't worry, Foliage." Fern gave a sad smile, then taking a bite of her apple.

When the bell rang, Fern felt drained. Her head throbbed and she desperately wanted to cry. But, she stood up, waved at Jeremy and said, "See you next period." With that, she trudged her way to history class, almost an exact second before the bell declared her tardy. Fern sunk into her seat, grabbing all the required materials for her class from her bag. History class was boring. It usually was. Mr. Saltzman tended to drone on about little facts on various decades he'd obviously spent years procuring. Sometimes the tangents he went on about had no real relation to their class and more about the myths and folklore of the time- to which there was a separately dedicated class for. Sometime he'd even talk to himself for a few moments. Point is, Mr. Saltzman is weird, Fern doesn't like his class.

But, Fern told herself to stay awake. She was her friends designated driver after all. A sudden knock came to her window, scaring the crap out of her. Cracking her door open, she stared at the brunette. "uh... hi?" "Hey. Are you taking Jeremy home?" Elena- Jeremy's sister- asked. "Yeah. Should I grab him? Is he shit faced?" "Yeah I think that'd be best.." Fern sat her book down on her dashboard. "Right, lead the way," She nodded, standing from her car. Fern stood about 2-3 inches shorter than Elena. They didn't really get along- but stayed civil for Jeremy's sake. About 50 feet from the front door, Elena fell to the ground, shortly followed by Fern after getting struck on the head.

When she came to, Fern was groggy and disoriented. She felt lightheaded and just gross. Sticky gross. When she could, she opened her eyes, the world spinning like a top, making her clutch her head. "Fern?" Elena's panicked voice sounded muffled and distant. Fern opened her eyes once more, letting them adjust before she started looking around. "Lena?" She sounded horrible. The kind that would have a mother feel for your temperature and insist you stay in bed till you're better. "Shh," Elena soothed, pressing a piece of her shirt to the back of Fern's head. "Don't move.." She whispered. Fern complied, her eyes wearily scanning her surroundings. She was laid on a dusty, painfully worn couch- her back practically touching the ground. Books littered the floors, many pages ripped from their bindings and scattered around the room. Planks covered barren windows, doing little to stifle the stiff fall breeze. "How're you... feeling?" Elena asked after a moment, keeping pressure on the back of Fern's head. "My head hurts." She mumbled back, her voice not clearing. Elena pursed her lips, not looking Fern in the eye. "I'm sorry.. bout all this." Elena offered, confusing the younger girl. Before she had a moment to respond, a man burst through the door. "This is a bad idea Rose," he began, seeming panicked, erratic. His eyes shot to Fern, the look in them almost feral. 'Rose' sped over to him, taking his face in her hands. The speed of which she moved frightened Fern; it was unnatural, unhuman. For a few tense moments, the duo spoke, Ferns head throbbing painfully, making it impossible to focus. She whimpered, clutching at her head, Elena softly shushing her.

A swift knock came from somewhere in the house. 'Rose' sped away while the man paced around the room. Fern closed her eyes, listening to the constant creaking of olden floorboards. Soon, two sets of feet approached, the man froze, the creaking stopped. Silence ensued for no more than two seconds. Then, a man spoke, "Human... impossible," his voice, smooth and deep though seemingly stoic. Fern pried her eyes open, coming eye to eye with a suited brunet man. For a moment, he seemed surprised- though composed himself rather quickly. But, before the man had a chance to approach, Elena blocked Fern from his view. "She's not part of this." She stated, her voice unwavering. He glared heatedly at Elena, motioning to Rose. In a second, Elena was in Rose's grip, out of Elijah's way, startling Fern. "Be calm, Elskan.." He whispered, cupping her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheek bones. "I won't hurt you." He promised softly. Fern sniffed pathetically, her head making her delirious she'd decided. The man studied Fern, each person sitting anxiously of what he might do. "You're hurt.." He stated, his hands moving her fact to get a better view of her injury. She grimaced, feeling her skull throb at every small movement. "E-Elijah," the homeless looking man called, steeling his attention off her. The man, 'Elijah' glared at the other, igniting a series of anxious rambling. "I beg your forgiveness," he finally ended. "So granted." Elijah stated, a sickly smile gracing his face before the mans head was detached from his shoulders. Fern sat paralyzed, staring at his neck as it spat like a bloodied fountain. For a moment, that's all there was. The sound and sight of this mans blood pouring buckets out of his biggest artery. Fern couldn't tear her eyes away, entranced by the sight- thousands of sight, sounds and thoughts rushing through her mind. The man- Elijah rushed over, his hands cupping Fern's face once more. "Don't cry, Elskan," he whispered, his thumbs wiping over her tear stained face. But, her eyes never moved from the decapitated corpse. Elijah moved into her field of vision, blocking her from the gore. Still, Fern remained frozen, unblinking. Thinking too much to the point she wasn't at all. To the point she was just a shell- not alive but existing. Elijahs eyes searched Ferns face, Ferns eyes seeming to look through the suited man. "Come, we have a long journey ahead of us." He spoke, picking Fern up with ease and gesturing to Elena. "Wait! What about the moonstone?" Elena called, her voice desperate. Elijah paused, turning to face Elena, "What do you know of the moonstone." "I know you need it." She said, now much more meek. "Where is it?" He demanded. "It doesn't work that way." "Are you negotiating with me?" He sneered, looking to a heartbroken Rose. "First I've heard of it." She forced out. Elijah balanced Fern against his torso, grabbing and throwing Elenas necklace elsewhere. "What is this vervain doing on your neck? Where is the moonstone?" "In the tomb," came Elenas automated reply. "What's it doing there?" "It's with Katherine." "Interesting.." A sudden shattering came from a floor above, Elijah going tense and holding Fern more firmly to his body. "Who else is here?" He growled. "I don't know.." Rose said softly. Another shattering sounded. "Rose." "I don't know!" She stated much more firmly. Elijah flashed over, gently setting Fern in Roses' hold, then shoving Elena into Roses' side. "Stay here." He stated, flashing over to investigate.

Fern couldn't focus on anything, still feeling incredibly overwhelmed. At some point, she was sat down, her body slumped against a crumbling wall. "Fern!" Elena called, searching for the shorter girl. Fern couldn't speak, she couldn't move, she could hardly focus enough to hear Elena's approaching footsteps. "Fern," Elena whispered, coming face to face with the younger brunette. "Hey, d'you wanna go home?" She tried again, setting a comforting hand on her shoulder. Fern nodded, forcing herself to her feet. "Y-yeah I wanna go home." She whispered, taking Elenas outstretched hand, trusting her to lead her somewhere safe.

"She shouldn't have to live with this! Did you see how she reacted?" Elena spoke to two men whilst Fern sat idly in their car.

New Masterlist

❤️ I update every Wednesday at 10.00 am for those curious ❤️

The Beginning 1.2k

Chpt 1 - Unknown Anxieties 1.0k

Chpt 2 - Grocery Shopping and Art Class 1.0k

Chpt 3 - Family Ghosts 700

Chpt 4 - Unwanted Guests and Party Plans 1.2k

Chpt 5 - Mediocre Food at a Mediocre Party 1.3k

Chpt 6 - Mondays 800

-Brief finals hiatus-

Chpt 7 - Weird Teachers 1.1k