mikaelsonsister:

HER ENTIRE BODY FREEZES AT HIS TOUCH. when he speaks, only her eyes move to meet his, and she nods her head meekly. she doesn’t even dare breathe. without a doubt, kol would have killed him. if niklaus had told him to, even if kol had just gotten impatient and bored with the babysitting job. he would have killed him without a second thought. and she hates that, back then, when she didn’t know jeremy — when she didn’t love him — she wouldn’t have spared kol killing him any time. but it’s different now. everything’s different. and she can’t even imagine a time where she didn’t care about him because now — well, along with hope, he’s her whole world. she couldn’t do this without him.

and, for some reason, she knows what’s on his mind. she can feel it.  ‘ you’re nothing like him. ’  she finally says.  ‘ maybe you’re not like me, ’  but she still thinks he is,  ‘ but you are nothing like kol, jeremy gilbert. if you believe anything i say, let it be that. ’  rebekah’s words are firm, there’s no question in them. and, after another beat, she presses a quick kiss to her cheek before she stands. he needs his space, and she respects that. one thousand years, and no one had ever respected her need for space. niklaus, especially. until now. until they needed her to be away from them, to protect hope. so, she understands his plight. 

she’s more relieved than she’s ever been in a thousand years when he says he won’t turn it off. this is hard… impossible, even. but she doesn’t want him to lose everything that makes him… him. ‘ how about you go and shower? i’ll clean up here. ’  and she’ll do it herself this time, she won’t compel the neighbours to do it like she normally would. because it’s probably best if he’s not around humans right now.  ‘ and maybe you poke your head in on hope? ’  she suggests, and before he can argue, she continues.  ‘ there’s a reason her name is hope. she’s a beacon of light in this dark and dreary world. — and you won’t want to attack her, don’t worry. she’s part vampire, and part werewolf, remember? ’  the original cracks a half smile.  ‘ you should be more scared of her. one bite… and she is teething. ’

there’s a dull ache in his chest when she pulls away. the spot on his cheek once graced by her lips flashes hot and cold, devoid of the warmth her act of devotion provided. he’s unable to suppress the sigh that passes through his lips. his emotions are all over the place, and rather than saying something he’d regret (or maybe he wouldn’t– he is a vampire now, after all. a soulless, lifeless vampire who just murdered the couple who was helping him. maybe he is expecting more from his undead self) – jeremy just nods and moves past her deeper into the house.

in the bathroom, his clothes are tossed about carelessly before stepping into the shower. he turns the water as hot as it will go, and just stands there, allowing the molten lava to slam into his back. his head hangs limply at the neck, eyes staring in the direction of the ruddy drain without really looking. i hate what i am. it’s impossible not to. you don’t want this, jeremy. you don’t want this. the voices overlap in his head, swirling warning and condemnation around him with the steam. this may be the first time he lost control, but he knew and rebekah knew that this was his future. even if he learned to keep his supernatural impulses in check, there would always be nights like this– nights where he couldn’t stomach to exist inside his own skin; nights where he wanted to tear the very flesh from his bones and burn it all to ash.

you don’t want this.

you don’t want this.

“i don’t want this.”

when his vision finally regains focus, jeremy realizes he’s punched through the tiled wall before him. he retracts his limb through the jagged pieces, revealing the gashed and bloodied knuckles of his right hand. before he very eyes, the wounds heal, leaving his skin crimson-stained again but otherwise unharmed. and he curses it all. no person, mortal or immortal, should have this power. it’s unnatural and unfair to the rest of nature; it’s little wonder his ancestors– and their ancestors before them– stood against this perversion. what would his father think of the monster he’s become? what of his mother?

the water cuts off, and he numbly reaches for a towel. rather than wipe himself down, jeremy just secures the fabric at his waist and stumbles out into the hallway. the hairs on his skin prick up when he approaches hope’s room, but his nerves get the best of him and after lingering by the closed door for a moment, he presses on towards the guest room he’s been calling his own. scattered around are the possessions of a dead boy, objects he no longer feels comfortable claiming. he’d like nothing more than to tear it all to the ground, erase any reminder of the life he’s lost. he hasn’t even told elena yet. the only thing stopping him is the peaceful angel snoring quietly down the hall.

he finds himself before a mirror, his fingers digging trenches into the very wood of the vanity top as eyes he does not recognize stare back. “what the fuck am i supposed to do,” the vampire finally vocalizes to his hollow reflection. somehow, he senses he’s no longer alone. “–all that death, and i’m still hungry.”