V. HAZY STATE OF MIND

   THE first thing that she felt was something cold against her skin. It was an odd sort of feeling— whatever it was. It was solid, pressed against her flesh, and blocked only by the thin fabric of her nightgown. Her fingers twitched at her sides, moving in a way that felt normal but caused her body to ache. Pressing herself up onto her palms, she rested back on her elbows for a moment— the sudden movement causing her vision to blur in and out.

Her mind felt hazy— as though there was a thick layer somewhere in her mind— making her lucid but not entirely able to process what was going on. It was frustrating— she wanted to know what was happening, but it was as if her body was not in tune with her mind just yet.

Bleary-eyed, she blinked several times, pushing herself off her elbows and into a sitting position. Her vision cleared, but what she saw did not help to ease her confusion. She was sitting on what appeared to be a large piece of marble— multiple shades of black, gray, and white swirling around, up and down the slab in an intricate design.

Four figures were standing around her, but she didn't focus on their faces. The dark green hue of their cloaks stood out to her, hiding a fair amount of their figures behind the fabric.

Her eyes flickered around the room, squinting in the minimal light provided from the torches she noted on the walls. The sound of shuffling caused her to turn her head to the side— her chest tightening at what she saw.

Her brothers.

Alive.

Her twin stumbled towards her, staring at her as though he hadn't seen her in years, "Ivy?"

"Stefan?" Ivy peered behind him, her eyes burning as she felt a tear slide down her cheek at the sight of her older brother, "Damon? I don't understand. Where am I?"

Ivy noticed the woman standing beside Damon when she patted him gently on the shoulder, gesturing to the exit of the room with a nod of her head, "We will give you time."

The four women who were surrounding her stepped back from the table; walking out of the room in complete silence.

Ivy was at a loss. Pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, and placing her chin on top of her knee; she eyed her brothers, repeating her previous question, "Where am I? I don't understand what is going on."

Stefan approached her and before she could entirely process the movement, she realized she had already flinched back; frowning to herself when she watched the pain cross Stefan's face; quickly replaced with a neutral expression. "You're safe, Ivy."

Damon stood silent behind Stefan, his head tilted as he looked her over. His eyes found Ivy's when he spoke, "How are you here right now? Dad said you died."

At the mention of her father, her eyes darted around, looking for any sign of the man that had fathered them. Her stomach felt tight and her throat mimicked the feeling as she thought about her father, "Is he here? Stefan, please tell me he isn't here."

Stefan looked conflicted— attempting to step towards her but decided against it. "He isn't here. I told you, Ivy, you're safe here."

"He isn't outside, is he?" Her eyes moved to the door and her arms tightened around her legs— almost as though making her as small as possible would make her invisible.

"No, he's not anywhere nearby, okay?"

"Okay."

With Stefan's reassurance, Ivy allowed herself to relax. Her limbs loosened from the tense form she had, but she kept herself small. Looking her brothers over, she felt her brows furrow and her nose wrinkle. "What are you wearing?"

She watched as Stefan peered down at his clothing, brushing his hands over the fabric with a small laugh. "Just clothes. Ivy, I don't know what's going on."

"What do you mean?"

Damon finally stepped in her direction, his hands shoved into the pockets of whatever sort of pants he was wearing. "Ivy, you've been gone."

"Gone?"

"Dad told everyone you were dead."

"He told me he was going to. I just don't understand how you're here. I watched you die."

Her brothers shared a look before Stefan turned back to her. "Ivy, what all do you remember about Katherine?"

With those words, it finally seemed to click in her head.

The rounding up. The carriages. The vampires. The church. Her brothers being shot.

"She turned you?"

"I don't think she meant to that night, but we had her blood in our system when we died."

Ivy nodded, brushing her cheek across her nightgown to catch a tear that had been lingering on her skin. "I'm so sorry, Stefan. I know that you never wanted the burden of being a vampire."

Her twin flashed her a smile that for so long, had been solely reserved for her. "It's alright, I've had a lot of time to accept it."

"What do you mean you've had a lot of time?"

Damon moved a step forward, finally standing beside Stefan in front of her. "Ivy, you've been gone for years."

"Gone? I don't understand."

"We thought you were dead, but we found you in the tomb below the church tonight."

"Stefan, what year is it?"

"Ivy, I don't think,"

Her eyes clashed against him, narrowing slightly, "Do not avoid the question, Stefan. What year is it?"

With a sigh, he finally answered her question: "2010."

IT took Ivy a second to process what Stefan had told her.

   Her lips parted, but no words followed the movement. She could feel her eyes grow in size and her brows drew closer together. Her arms tightened around her legs as she tried to understand.

   It made no sense.

   The last thing she remembered was the cruel grasp of her father, running his calloused fingers through her hair, bunching a chunk of it in his hands, and slamming her head against the wood of the carriage.

   Subconsciously, her fingers moved up towards the place that her father had gripped. Her fingers twisted through her hair, finding the wound completely healed, but her hair remained coated in her blood that was dry to the touch.

   The panic set in faster than she could ward it off.

It caught her off guard with a sharp intake of breath. Her arms that were wrapped around her legs tightened— keeping her knees against her chest. Her chin was pressed against the top of her knee, the ivory fabric of her nightgown catching the tears that had begun to fall.

Despite the rapid heaving of her chest, she felt as though she couldn't breathe— choking on her breath with a cough that was followed by a choked-up sob.

Despite her vision being blurred by her tears, she could tell Stefan was moving in her direction and although deep down she knew his intentions were only to console her, her body launched itself away from him, "Please don't. Please don't touch me."

Another sob followed as she buried her face into her knees. Her hands grasped at the fabric of her nightgown that brushed against her legs. She bunched the fabric in her hands; as some sort of an attempt to ground herself.

"Ivy, hey, listen to me," Stefan's voice was clear, but it felt distant. Like it had been muffled by her distress. She tried to clear her mind, to ease the panic that was running rampant in her head.

"Come on, Ivy," Damon was kneeling in front of her, his hands still in his pockets but his presence closer than before. "Come on. You're safe. We aren't going to let anyone hurt you. Come back to us."

Her head lifted, her chest continuing to move up and down, but slowing down in movement. The white of her knuckles was stark against the tan skin of the back of her hands. The cries she was letting out were short and choked before they slowly came to a stop.

She sniffled, unwrapping her arms from around her legs to wipe at her cheeks with the sleeve of her dress. When she looked at Stefan, she could see the relief flooding his face, noting his hand on Damon's shoulder.

"How," her voice was shaken, a hiccup followed before she spoke again. "How, how am I here? I don't understand."

"We don't know," Damon stood up from the kneeling position he had been seated in. "Nothing makes sense."

"You don't," Stefan pursed his lips. "You don't feel hungry, do you?"

"Hungry? No. Why would I feel hungry?" She eyed Stefan as he let out a sigh of relief. "You thought I might have been turned?"

"It's the only explanation there could be. Ivy, you were in a hidden room in a tomb underneath the church. The church that burned down over a hundred years ago."

"I don't understand what is going on. The last thing I remember was father," Ivy paused, looking around again as though her father was going to appear. "The last thing I remember was father taking me towards one of the carriages. He was so angry with me, with all of us."

Ivy looked at Stefan, eyeing the way she could see Stefan's jaw clenching, his cheek tense with the movement. She stared at him before she finally spoke, her voice quiet and timid, "Father, he isn't still around, is he?"

Stefan shook his head, "No, he's not. He can't hurt you anymore, okay? You're safe here, Ivy. We won't let anyone hurt you."

Finally unwrapping her limbs from her defensive placement around her body, she extended her hand towards her twin.

Stefan eyed her hand for a moment— seeming to contemplate if she was truly there or not. After his second of hesitation, he placed his hand against hers, smiling at the way her small hand wrapped around his, holding it tightly.

She mimicked the movement to Damon who didn't hesitate as Stefan did. His hand covered a majority of Ivy's, but her fingers curled around his hand, holding onto him tightly. "I have so many questions for you both."

Stefan reached towards her with his free hand, brushing her hair away off her forehead before pulling back, "I have a lot of questions I need to be answered too." He glanced around the three of them, "I think we all do."

With a look towards the door, Damon straightened his shoulders, "I have a feeling someone may be able to answer some of them."

________

qotd: would you rather be a
werewolf, a vampire, or
a witch ?

copyright © -loonylupins