The Original

Life Full Of Loss

Genevieve knelt on the beach, her bare knees buried in the sand. She wanted to stand, to go to her parents bodies, but she couldn't find it in herself to move. She felt nothing. Empty. Hollow. Not to be unexpected when you are without humanity, but she had felt parts of it flickering back when her mother and father were in danger. But now, she didn't feel anything. Time seemed to move so slow, and the noises around her were drowned out by the rushing blood in her ears. She didn't know how long she sat there, until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Genevieve," Damon began as he, too, knelt beside her. "They're gone."

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She lifted her head, and met his eyes, which were full of sadness and sympathy. Pity. 

She hated it.

He looped an arm under her armpit, and helped her to her feet. It was an effort not to tumble to the ground again. He lead her back towards the line of trees, where everyone else stood patiently waiting. Or at least, they seemed patient. But she could see on their faces that a few of them were exploding with questions. She started to walk past Klaus, but he grabbed her arm roughly, keeping her from going any farther. Damon moved in front of her, getting in Klaus' face.

"Back off, Klaus. Before I rip out your heart and feed it to you," he threatened.

"Sister?" Klaus growled.

She looked him dead in the eyes, her own glinting with a look that told him to shut up, but he didn't pay attention.

"What the hell are talking about, oh ancient one? Who's sister?" Damon continued.

"Why don't you ask your girlfriend," Rebekah came up beside Klaus, eyeing Genevieve with distrust.

"Gen, what are they talking about?" Alaric asked. 

Gen looked between them, not sure what to say. Then she made eye contact with her brother. She couldn't stand it.

She ripped her arm free from Klaus' grip, and stumbled backwards, before turning around, and walking down the beach, far off towards the cliffs, her arms wrapped around herself. The others watched her go, no one daring to move after her.

The ocean breeze blew cold against her skin, but she couldn't feel it. She kept her eyes forward, not really sure where she was walking to. Everyone else was miles behind her, and she wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been walking. Just that it had been a while. She was close to the cliffs now. She could hear the waves smashing against the rock face, the sound sending shivers down her spine in remembrance of that fateful night. When her sister had changed the course of her life forever. 

Sister.

She hadn't called Circe that in centuries, nor had she been called that by Circe in even longer. She had run from the fact, because she couldn't face the fact that her sister was so evil she supposed. But she wondered deep down if there was more to it. 

She stopped walking forward, and instead just paced back and forth over the same few feet of sand, running her fingers through her hair, trying desperately not to lose control. But she just couldn't take it. 

She turned towards the sea, and let out a wail, falling to her knees, as a wave of energy burst forth from her, sending the waves rolling back, flattening the line of trees behind her from the force of it. She opened her teary eyes to see the damage around her, including the crater that now encircled her in the sand.

The sun sat low in the sky, a beautiful mix of colors through the horizon. The waves were now still as the dead. Everything was silent.

"Why didn't you tell us the truth?" Alaric asked.

She didn't know when he got there, or how he had appeared so silently. But she didn't really care. She turned to him.

"What would you have said if I had? What would they have said? My sister is a monster. It's no wonder I am, too."

"I wouldn't have cared," he protested.

"No? My sister wishes to commit mass murder, and enslave the entire world, and you don't care? I find that very difficult to believe."

He sighed, and walked over to sit beside her. "You're right. I probably would have cared some. And the others...they probably would have wondered if you weren't actually in on it. But I know you. And I know you would never."

Genevieve could feel the tears rising once again, and she turned away.

"Don't," Alaric stopped her. "You don't have to hide your tears. I know you have your humanity back. That you've had it for a while. You don't need to hide from me."

She faced him again, meeting his eyes. "Did you realize, too, that I was only without my humanity for a few hours? Everything I did...everyone I killed...it was of my own volition. I felt- feel-all the guilt that comes with killing someone. But I didn't want to stop. How can you sit there and act like I'm not a monster? Like I'm not someone to be afraid of?"

"Oh don't get me wrong, I am terrified of you," he laughed. "But I'm not letting that fear ruin our friendship. As for what you did, and not being ashamed...I might be disappointed in you but I'm not ashamed. Besides, you're a few thousand years older than me. I know you've done some pretty messed up stuff. Hell, so have I. But if we define ourselves by all the crap we've done, then what are we but complete failures? We have to learn to live with the bad, just as we do the good. Because life is a mix of good and bad, not just one or the other."

"Thank you, Alaric. For never giving up on me," she murmured. 

A lump formed in her throat as she tried to hold in the tears, but after a moment, she gave up trying. She leaned into him, burying her face in his chest. He looped his arm around her, pulling her in close, trying to give her some semblance of comfort and safety. 

The tears came hot and fast, her breaths turning to choked gasps. Her eyes burned, but they didn't stop flowing. She cried and cried, and he just sat there with her, in no hurry to move or to make her stop."