When Athena Medici first arrives in Mystic Falls, Virgina, she is still Lyla Medici.

She's still wearing her thick-rimmed glasses, carrying the excess baby fat that just refuses to go, and is so painfully silent that she's practically unnoticeable.

But that was all quickly and painfully derailed when her mother received a panicked phone call from New Haven.

See there was a time where Lyla had an older sister. Where they were a family of four, instead of three.

Elizabeth Medici, Lyla's older sister by seven years, had a nervous breakdown at the end of her second year at Yale, and every plan Lyla had went flying out the window, only to be replaced by her plans that directly involved her sister.

A sister who immediately comes home.

A sister who sometimes feels like a stranger to Lyla.

And Lyla has been doing anything and everything remotely possible to keep her sister here. She's being the perfect daughter, doing extra chores and not giving her parents any stress at all. She does all she's told to do, not bothering anyone with any of her childish problems, all while she watches.

As closely as she dares.

While nobody has actually explicitly told Lyla what happened in New Haven, she's been able to hear snippets from conversations going on all around her, and she's learned more than she ever needs to.

She cries the first time Uncle David - confirms what she suspected, and she hates the man a little bit for being so blasé about it, even going so far as to blame her mother's side of the family for 'bad genes.'

Elizabeth's 'nervous breakdown' is actually a euphemism for a suicide attempt.

Lyla's at that age where she understands, but also doesn't.

So, in trying to comprehend properly, she does what she does best and reads about it. She visits the library over the summer - only when she's sure her mother is home - and she spends hours reading about depression and psychology on various websites. It's definitely not happy reading, and she finds learning about the struggles people go through begin to affect her own mood.

It makes her sad; makes her accept her own reality.

It's not as if she doesn't recognise the signs in herself. She's never really been happy with herself. She's too fat and she's too ugly. She's too quiet and too intense for her age. She's been hated enough in her lifetime to wish she didn't exist on numerous occasions. She's wanted so badly to disappear, convinced that everyone's life would just be so much better and simpler if she weren't around.

It's a shock to her system to learn that her sister entertains the same thoughts.

Lyla doesn't immediately talk to Elizabeth about it. She wants to, but doesn't really know how. It would be easy to blame the parenting - there parents have always put a lot of intentional pressure on their daughters to be perfect - but it's a lot more than that.

Uncle David is at least right about some of it.

The Medici girls are genetically predisposed to be diagnosed with anxiety disorders and clinical depression. It's apparent in both sides of the family, with their Mother losing one sister and one cousin to suicide already. She has another sister with bipolar disorder and attempts of her own, and their mother has been fighting a battle with alcoholism for a while.

And after Elizabeth runs away to a place she can't come back from...her name isn't allowed to be spoken. It's just the three of them, and Lyla quickly becomes Athena. The Goddess of wisdom and battle strategy.

Because if she is going to survive this thing inside of her, she's going to need a hell of a battle strategy.

Bad genes, Uncle David had said, and Lyla sometimes thinks he's right.

Elena always knew Athena would be the one to ruin her life.

She'd known it the moment she laid eyes on her when they were kids, maybe even before that.

They didn't talk much freshmen year, they were friendly, but only through Caroline. Elena didn't really like Athena. She was viscous and kind at the same time. Rude yet polite. Real yet entirely false.

She was...cold.

Acting as if nothing ever mattered, so unapologetically harsh.

It was the summer after freshman year, for some reason Elena and Athena were fighting.

It was probably over nothing, per usual, but Athena had snarled and snapped at her, her face devoid of anything, just blank passivity. And then the anger washed away from her being and was replaced with sorrow, and somehow Elena was left feeling guilty.

It wasn't fair.

Because Athena was the one to hurt Elena.

Athena hurt her, did her best to make Elena's life miserable, and even though it didn't work (except for when it did) that's not the point.

Elena's the victim here.

And all she wanted to do is yell at her, tell her how obtuse and unfair this whole situation is. She wanted to hit her.

But she didn't.

"You look really pretty today Athena."

Inwardly Elena cursed herself as she meets Athena's watery eyes.

"I'm tired, Elena."

The Gilbert girl moved to sit by her, feels herself deflate as she placed her hand over Athena's.

"Me too."

This is how it begins.

It is a rather uneasy partnership at first. Her scar tissue, her self-hatred, both lying as the girls tried to forge a friendship, or at least something akin to trust.

Athena never begged forgiveness for being mean, or even offered understanding.

But she's sad and enchanting and surrounded by cold so Elena always let it go.

But not really, because that anger sat deep within her, growing into something twisted.

Eventually, Elena tried to break her back a couple of times. (But Athena was much better at causing permanent wounds) There were times where it looked like she might just succeed. That big mouth of Athena's would go silent, and gold eyes would glisten, and her jaw would slacken.

But she always bounced back.

Athena Medici was fucking invincible. Trying to break her only left Elena with a shattered fist, metaphorically speaking.

It seems the only one who could break her was herself.

No one saw it coming. (A part of Elena saw it coming but she likes to pretend that part never did.)

Athena was the girl who told jokes and took all insults with nothing more than a shurg. Everything was laid back and nothing was ever a big deal- it just was.

And it made Elena angry. So unreasonably angry because she couldn't undertsand why.

Athena was fine.

Athena was okay.

Nothing was wrong with her. So why?

And then she came back as if nothing happened, only she became more.

People always admired her despite her cold exterior. Now she was warm and everyone wanted to sit in her light, or maybe it wasn't light at all, maybe it was just heat.

Elena doesn't know. She doesn't understand what's going on beneath Athena's skin.

All she knew was that Stefan was drawn to it, to her.

She watches them arrive. Late as all get out, Athena, Lexi, and Stefan.

(Elena had called Stefan and nearly begged him to attend).

They share easy smiles amongst themselves and look so close, and jealousy boils beneath her skin. Because why Athena, out every girl? Why the only one who's ever made Elena question her worth?

But she forces a smile and approaches Stefan, because she's not giving up.

Not on this.

And Athena can fuck off if she thinks otherwise.

Athena's angry. The arched brow and the all-to familiar glare is sign enough that Elena should be running, far, far away right now.

But she doesn't.

She just holds onto her hand, forcing her to stay close.

Her hand felt loose in Elena's grip, it was like she wasn't even trying to hang on.

"Why Stefan?" Elena finds herself asking, her hands shake and she wants to break into Athena's skin. "Out of all the options you have why did you have to choose Stefan."

Sometimes Elena just felt so stupid around Athena. She knew she wasn't a certified genius, but Elena Gilbert wasn't stupid. It shouldn't matter that Athena could keep up with the references Stefan would make about some book commonly thrown around in AP literature, because her and Stefan were...they were...epic.

And Athena just stares at her and walks away.

Like she's nothing.

After the third time she has to decline an offer to dance, Athena is ready to pull out her own hair. She knows, of course, that she could have attended this birthday party with any number of people as her date, but she just wasn't interested. She's treating this entire evening as part of her friendship responsibility, which means there's no time for... enjoyment. She wouldn't even know how to do that if she tried.

Really, what she would like to do now is sneak out the back and go up to her bedroom, lie on her carpet and stare at the ceiling.

"Athena?"

Her gaze snaps up to look at a sophomore boy, smiling at her with all the hope in his eyes. "Hello, Peter," she says easily, smiling back at him.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks, his earnest eyes tugging at what's left of her cold dead heart. "Pretty please?"

She chuckles lightly, says, "Sure," and lets him lead her to the dance floor.

"She's just dancing with him because he's safe," Lexi whispers to Stefan. "It doesn't mean anything."

Even if it doesn't, it doesn't make it hurt any less. "Will it always feel like this?" he asks.

"Probably."

"You're lucky."

"Am I?"

"The person you like actually likes you back."

Lexi can't stop her grin at the mention of her love, but she quickly schools her features. "That may be so, Salvatore, but the person I like also knows."

Athena lets out an unexpected giggle when Peter spins her and, for the first time all week, her smile is open and genuine. So, predictably, it floors the boy, and he stumbles slightly, which makes them both laugh.

"I thought for sure you would be a terrible dancer," Athena finds herself saying.

Peter pretends to look insulted. "Why? Why would you say such a thing?"

She laughs now, stepping forward and then back again. "You're really tall," she says.

He shrugs. "It does make me a little uncoordinated," he admits sheepishly. "I'm still growing into these pesky limbs."

"But you're not terrible," she clarifies.

"You're actually very good," he comments.

"Surprising, isn't it?"

He nods his head, his expression one of awe and something very serious. "I think there are many things surprising about you."

Athena places a gentle hand on his shoulder, suddenly knowing he's too young and good and pure for all the darkness living inside of her.

Damon couldn't help but soften at the sight of Athena.

She was unaware. And alone. Off to the sidelines after dancing with a boy and just observing everyone and everything around them.

She was wearing a form-fitting golden top, with lovely blue jeans that certainly brought out her curvaceous form, with a gold and green hairpiece that secured half of her intricate ringlets into place.

A cheerful melody began trickling out. Caroline, wobbling slightly towards the girl, brightened with a flash of excitement while grabbing for Athena's wrist; causing her friend to gasp with credible bewilderment. The blonde then proceeded to drag her friend out onto the dance floor, spinning around in a wild circle while clasping tightly onto her friend's outstretched hands. Athena laughed, shaking her head at Caroline's expense. Before long, there was a sea of girls twirling around the dance floor; and they all proceeded to spin and twirl and dance for the entirety of the lively song.

Once the dancing ended, and the music had shifted into a slower melody, Athena sauntered over to the edge of the dance floor where Damon was standing.

Once she had reached him, the girl smiled with exhilaration and inquired, a little breathless herself, "do you not dance, Damon?"

Aware of the many surrounding eyes and ears of the other party-goers, Damon chuckled and shook his head slowly back and forth. "No, Medici, I don't."

"Athena!" She corrected him stubbornly, fixing her face into a phony pout.

"Athena," Damon began, drawing a steady breath as he flicked his gaze back onto the witch's beaming face, "I prefer to casually observe… from the corner."

Athena lifted her chin and folded her arms at her chest, eyeing Damon suspiciously. "You don't dance? – are you certain that you're actually the 'fun' brother?"

Damon laughed loudly, despite himself. Once he had regained his composure he grinned widely and placed his empty glass casually atop the bar to his left. He met her intense stare and murmured with apparent dalliance, "I'm not so sure; you tell me which one of us is more fun."

"You're losing your rank, I must say –oh!"

Athena stopped short as Damon grabbed gently at her wrist, freeing her arms from their folded position at her chest. He then twirled her around, twice, and caught her against his knee; holding her for a moment within the protection of his arms. Athena's eyes were wide with shock, and her lips were parted slightly as she drew in rapid, startled breaths. Her chest lifted and dropped in a rhythm that didn't quite match the tempo ofthe music.

He straightened, pulling her upright with him, and released his hands while clearing his throat - loudly.

Athena proceeded to then laugh in the most charmingly cheerful way, glancing to Caroline in turn.

Unlike Athena, Caroline stared at her wth wide-eyed consternation; and it struck Damon -immediately- that his behavior may have been boldly misinterpreted.

Regardless, a dark and persistent voice whispered, Damon would do anything to keep that smile -pure and sweet- upon Athena's face for just a little while longer.

"So, you can dance!"

Damon shrugged his shoulders up, briefly, and teased, "beginner's luck."

"Hardly." Said Athena, with a coy smile.

Out of the corner of his eye, Damon could see Elena's glare, boring into the side of his face. And Stefan, her dance partner, frozen, but also to discover the pained expression that had taken hold of Stefans' astonished face.

He offered Lexi up like a lamb to be slaughtered.

And like most lamb.

She would have ended in blood.

If it wasn't for interference of Athena.

Damon isn't a creature of guilt.

And yet he can't get to sleep.

It's unsurprising, of course, but the exhaustion finally catches up with him and he tumbles into a restless slumber.

He dreams of Athena's eyes, dark and distrustful.

He dreams of Athena's screams and tears, loud and frightening.

He dreams of Athena's pain, ringing on a loop in his ears.

He dreams of blood.

Stefan drank human blood.

Athena had been reckless wrapping her body around Lexi so the only way to hurt the vampire was to go through her.

When the officer aimed that wooden bullet, ready to shoot Athena in the leg and then he did, Stefan just...he just reacted.

Biting through flesh. Taking down three officers and ready to go for Caroline's mother. Until Athena muttered some incantations and the sheriff slumped over in a deep sleep and he was held in place.

"She won't remember when she wakes up."

It was only then did Stefan dwell on how much of an aphrosidasic the scent of her blood was.

"Stefan," Lexi presses, hearing seeing his hesitance.

"They were going to hurt you," he whispers brokenly. "They were going to hurt her."

"It's okay," she assures him. "It's okay."

"She already hurts so much," Stefan says. "I couldn't let them hurt her any more."

"I- the ripper-"

"No."

"Lexi-"

"Look at you Stefan," Lexi hugged him close, pulling him towards the mirror. "You stopped. You didn't drain them dry. You killed them to save her because some part of you recognized you needed to stop. That she needed to be taken care of first."

And yet that same hunger, that twisted thing that begged for control, surged beneath his skin.

She's not strong.

When Athena was thirteen her father told her she was weak-willed. He wasn't cruel about it, it was just something he said one day. "You could be amazing, 'Thena, if you weren't so weak willed." He was smiling and her mother didn't say anything. That's how Athena knew it was true.

She hates this, this violent thing clawing at her chest.

And Elena dosen't help.

"You knew all along they were vampires? You knew and said nothing!" The girl sounds...betrayed, and is looking at her like there's something so wrong with her. Like she's emotionally disabled.

Athena sighs.

"Neither did you, but I suppose only Elena Gilbert is allowed to keep secrets, isn't that right?" The girl stepped forward and by the way Elena pulled back, wide eyes and all fear, she made a terrifying picture.

It's not that being unkind to Elena is some force of habit that requires manual override, it's just that she's angry and she hurts.

Her leg fucking hurts from the wooden bullet getting shot through it. It hurts.

And she fucking loves it.

Lexi is too afraid to leave him despite Damon. And when Athena comes the next day, limping and whimpering, Stefan offers her his blood.

The idea of seeing her lips smeared with him, of taking from him, of being her sole provider and protector leaves him unimaginably warm. And he wants.

He wanted to get to the heat of her. He needed to be inside of her. He needed to know what made her. And it wasn't physical. It wasn't sexual. It was...he slowly lowered his head until it rested between the valley of her breast, and in that position he found what he sought. The steady thump of her heart.

But he won't rip into her.

His ripper has more sense than that.

He just wants to keep her.

"Thank you," Athena whispers against his skin.

Stefan just sighs. "Athena - "

"I don't care what you say," she murmurs, gently interrupting. "I'm saying thank you and you're accepting it."

Stefan's eyes slip closed, the fight leaving him. "Yes, dear."

Damon had made himself suspiciously scarce, and for that Athena is grateful.

Much to Athena's long-suffering annoyance, Stefan spends a worrying amount of time with her during the first week of her recovery. (Due to her refusal to drink any blood.)

Whether it's out of guilt or some sick sense of masochism, Lexi doesn't know, but she finds it bothers her to no end.

Lexi watches them carefully, searching and waiting for the moment their tentative 'coupling' explodes, because they all know it's going to. It's only a matter of time before one of them loses patience with the other, because Athena is a terrible patient and Stefan is a doting carer.

It's inevitable, really.

Something's got to give.

It happens a week later while Stefan is walking Athena to her next class. The corridors are relatively empty, given that everyone else is on their way or already at their extracurriculars.

For some reason, it irritates Athena. She doesn't want Stefan to have to adjust his schedule for her. She doesn't want him to feel as if he has to. All of this; it's suffocating, and she can't seem to accept that Stefan is doing any of it because he wants to, and not because he feels obligated to.

"I think people have finally stopped staring," Stefan says conversationally.

Athena snorts. "At you, or at me?"

He tilts his head in thought. "Both," he finally decides. It's not as if they're that far from each other, anyway.

"How do you feel about that?" Stefan asks, his voice quiet.

She quirks an eyebrow. "What are you my therapist now?"

"I'm just wondering how you're doing, Athena."

"I'm fine."

Stefan wants to call her out, and, without heading his own warning, he does.

And, predictably, it escalates quickly, with Athena on the hurt defensive and Stefan on the persistent offensive. Questions are asked and deflected, demanded and avoided, until Athena practically growls in frustration and distaste as she grabs for her bag off Stefan's shoulder and squares up.

"Nobody asked you to do any of this! Dammit, Salvatore, I can take care of myself!" she snaps. "God knows I've been doing it long enough!"

Stefan is left utterly dumbfounded when Athena storms off without once looking back. What the hell? He's tempted to call after her, but the sound of slow clapping stops him, and he spins around to find a blond boy lounging on one of the window sills, his knowing eyes on him.

"Well done," the boy says, ceasing his clapping.

Stefan furrows his brow. "Excuse me?"

"I said well done," he repeats, sliding his feet to the ground and rising. "In all the time I've known Athena Medici, I don't think I've ever seen her react so... strongly. So, congratulations."

Stefan feels supremely uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but, who are you?"

He moves towards him. "How rude of me," he says, holding out his hand. "The name's Leo. I think we have World Geography together."

Stefan shakes his hand, somewhat distractedly. "Stefan Salvatore," he says. Then, his curiosity getting the better of him, he asks, "You know Athena?"

"I don't think anyone actually knows Athena," he says, somewhat darkly. "But, yes, I suppose I do. We dated for a couple of months sophomore year."

"Oh."

He gives him a curious look. "Don't worry," he says. "I'm sure my relationship with her is long forgotten. It was more of a show, really. She was never quite into me, you know?"

No, Stefan doesn't know, but he still nods.

"Like I was saying, I've never seen anyone quite get under her skin the way you do," he says. "It's kind of funny, in a truly not funny way."

Stefan isn't sure what to make of any of this conversation.

"She's a special one, that Athena," he says wistfully. "She doesn't let just anyone in close enough to see it, so I'd be careful, if I were you."

Stefan swallows audibly, unsure how he feels hearing things his subconscious already knows.

"You keep pushing and pushing," he says, almost conversationally. "It's all good and innocent now, but you don't know her at all. You keep calling her out for always being in control, but you have absolutely no idea what she's been through. You don't know how alone she forces herself to feel, so the guilt doesn't eat her alive. You don't know anything. Because, if you did, you wouldn't push as much as you do. She may look strong, but she's fragile, and you need to be careful, Stefan." He closes his eyes for a moment. "I get scared that, one of these days, you're going to push just hard enough for her to fall off the edge."

Once again, Stefan is left shocked, rooted to the spot, as the blond head walks away from him.

What the hell?

Like, just, what the actual hell?