everyonelives | for the rest of us death will be a relief

Not that I'm aware of. We literally just had our exams.

[She's sure that they can't be graded yet. Professors are lazy and things probably take time. She then looks up at him and rolls her eyes.]

And no, I haven't been ignoring her calls. I haven't even gotten any, and turning off my phone isn't a way to get me to actually talk to her.

Unless it's punishment.

( He spies the TV behind her, still on mute. Moving over to the remote, he unmutes the volume on a commercial advertising Taylor Swift's latest tour.

Excuse your brother, he's listening to the snippets from her latest album. Watching her perform. There's a clip of her and Travis Kelce and their -- He sets the remote down. He turns to his sister. )

I know you're like Beyhive or whatever, but, how many kids do Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce have?

I don't know. One?

[She is not a Swiftie, no offense intended to Swifties, she just doesn't vibe with her kind of sad girl music. She'd rather have a bop, more often than not.]

Who's Travis Kelce again? Is that the soccer player?

Football. And, I thought, like, three. But, the TV says one. Look, this is going to sound - well, classic Gray, but can you check your bedspread and sheets? The color?

( Maybe he's going crazy and they're having Wifi or signal-issues.

While she does, though, he returns to his room to grab his phone from the -- )

Steph, did you grab my phone? And charger?

No, I have not touched your stuff. I am not like inconsiderate other people who can't seem to keep their grubby little paws off of things that aren't theirs.

[She takes a deep breath before heading back to her room and blinking at it.]

I thought they were purple, but I guess I was wrong. It's blue.

At least Luanne asked?

( He reaches around the nightstand, ducks down underneath. Even checks the top, middle and bottom drawers.

Coming back into the hallway, he concludes: )

No, they were purple. Like mine were green and are now blue. Did anything happen with the TV a few minutes ago. Like a few minutes of static? The water pressure crapped out and went real cold at the end of my shower. Before you started having signal problems.

( He doesn't know what it all means. )

What time are mom and dad meeting us downstairs?

I don't remember and now we can't text them.

[Since her phone is dead and his is gone.]

Why don't we just see if we can go find somewhere with those old landline phones and we can call them?

[Seems easy enough and also she's starving. They can get some appetizers or something.]

( Something really weird is going on, he decides, but he's also hungry. )

Maybe this apartment's just a deadzone.

( And maybe their benefactor breaks in and changes sheets while they're out of their rooms. Extra turndowns.

A few minutes later, Gray curses. )

Shit, my wallet's missing, too!

( A beat. )

I put it in my bag.

( He tries calming down. He's just stressing out. Emerging, holding his bag, he holds up his wallet with his other hand and slips it into his pocket. >)

You remember the last time you saw me with my phone? Maybe I left it in the Uber?

No, you brought it in from the Uber.

[That much she remembers.]

You said you wanted to charge it before dinner.

[She glances down at her phone, and exhales a small sigh of relief as she sees her card tucked into her phone wallet.]

I have my credit card. We can use mine until Mom and Dad get here.

[Little does she know that it doesn't ... work. Whoops.]

I know.

( Because he's the responsible one. )

We better not have a Barbarian Air B and B.

( Their owner just right underneath, taking their things, changing the sheets out from under them. He tries to breathe through his frustration. )

We were supposed to meet mom and dad at Rousseau's. They probably have a landline. Or a better signal. Maybe they're already down there, trying to get in touch with us.

( Maybe someone's laptop so he can log into Find my iPhone.

He doubts they're trying to get in touch with them, but he doesn't know why. Something's nagging at him. )

Great. Let's go. I am starving.

[And off they go to head to Rosseau's. The bar is easy enough to find - it seems like it's the only place to drink in the Quarter based on the number of people in it. Stephanie scans the tables and booths, looking for familiar faces, and when they land on the bar she finds something both expected and not at the same time.

There is her father, sitting at the bar, chatting with a woman - but that woman is not her mother. In fact, she's many things that Elena Gilbert is not. Blond vs. brunette, sharp edges where her mother has soft curves. She doesn't know who this woman is, but her heartrate is thundering in her ears as the woman leans in and kisses her father and Stephanie Salvatore, usually so quick and decisive when it comes time to act, has no idea what to do.

All she can do is stare. But somewhere under the shock there is anger.]

Me too.

( The quarter's big, this is only one corner, but it is a pretty big corner. It's a popular spot and as his sister scans, his eyes also fall on a familiar figure. Different haircut. Little more leather than their dad wears, but it's him. Chatting with a woman's nothing. He's always flirtatious, but he's devoted to their mom.

It's close-talking. No big whoop.

And then it's more. )

Steph, he - he wouldn't.

[The first thing she does is take a picture.

She and her mother do have their differences, but this is beyond their issues, this is something else entirely. She almost immediately wants to delete it, torn between not wanting to look at it, and it feeling like a betrayal to her father who she's always favored.

The blond walks away, getting called away by someone else on the other side of the room. That's when Stephanie's anger bubbles over and she's moving before Gray can stop her, charging up the bar and saying in an angry hiss:]

What the actual fuck, Dad?

( Damon Salvatore is working on himself. He has some therapy sessions under his belt. He has something casual, but fulfilling, going on, and he's purposefully let a lot go for the time being. Stefan has accepted that he only be let in the loop for matters of life and death, and even then, Damon's not there anymore. He knows if he's needed or wanted, he'll be called.

Freya gives him a little attention before she's called away for some kind of witch-shipping issue.

Before he can ask her if it's an issue with shipping a witch or witch supplies that were shipped - or a secret third option -

He looks around at the other patrons, some of which are regulars, including the bartender, and the woman behind him wouldn't be called dad. But he's also not a dad. )

Am I the dad you're referring to, because I don't have any children and I'm a little worried about your alcohol intake if you think I am your dad. Well, between that and how you're clearly underage in a bar confronting your "dad," ( he says, using quotation marks ) but, I'll by you your next one if you show me a picture of this guy. He must be handsome.

( Gray, coming in right behind with, "Dad, she --" confuses him, too, because he's already had to explain this once.

Now, he's just ... whatever. )

If this is the part where I learn I have some ancient Greek ancestor I never knew existed...

[Stephanie's face sets, as she looks down at her phone and flips through the albums on her phone until she finds the graduation picture with her and her father and holds it up to his face.

His response only makes her angrier, but she tries to tamp it down so she doesn't look like a hysterical idiot.]

Are you Damon Salvatore? Because if you are, then I'm pretty fucking sure you're my father.

( Well, that looks like him, with shorter hair and less intensity than he's sported his, oh, entire un-life. He looks genuinely happy. And there she is. Elena, smiling, with an arm around him. His hand is on this guy's shoulder and she, his "daughter," is showing off her diploma.

He looks from the photo to them. To this kid's hair, his jaw-line. His eyes. This girl's anger. The flare of her nostrils. Her eyebrows. Sense of style.

He could see it. But, he didn't forget this, this has never happened. He didn't get the happy ending, didn't go mortal, didn't have kids...

"Steph," Gray says, always noticing details, including their father's signet ring, which used to be spelled for daylight, one he stopped wearing. One he still keeps in a box. But, one he's wearing. )

What.

[She hisses at her brother because she's waiting for an answer from her father. She's wanting for an answer for the way he's decided to just royally fuck up their lives. She follows his eyeline to the ring on her father's finger and she shrugs.]

He's wearing his ring. So what?

[She's not always so good with the details. Or maybe her mind just doesn't want to go there just yet.]

Yes, I'm wearing my ring. And apparently, everyone on the Peanut Gallery knows what will happen if I take it off. Which, tells you that you can't be my kids. I'm not Klaus, I'm not part anything. ( now he feels like he's skirting discretion with these strangers.

He evaluates the two of them, too, sighs, and gestures for them to sit in the two seats that are now free. ) Look, I don't know how to explain your photo, other than, like I said before, some unknown family line trickling on down to someone looking exactly like me getting my name, but I have experience with family lines. All the look-a-likes? Don't share names. They actually don't like doing it. So, bring me Damon Salvatore, because one way or another, we're taking a trip to the social security office.

[Stephanie doesn't sit. She's too wired, too angry, too confused to think of settling into a chair across from this man who is her father but isn't and she definitely doesn't have enough chill considering that woman can come back any moment.

So she does what she does best: delivers a dramatic closing line before storming off.]

Okay, I don't know what kind of crazy, Twilight Zone world I've walked into but I am going to go and try to stumble back out because I want to go fucking home.

[And with that she walks right out of Rosseau's, onto the streets of the French Quarter.

Probably not a smart place for her to be but hey, at least the Quarter is safer than it used to be.]

( Gray doesn't know what to say, either, because he's learned from his cousins about prison worlds and Hell world and the Other Side, and pocket dimensions, but not whole other worlds. It's something he can't even hold space for, but he can be a good brother.

His sister takes off and he's right behind her, leaving Damon - fuck, new and improved Damon fishing out his phone because the craziest thing just happened, Stefan, or Cami, she's his therapist now. and then he gets the alert. Dean Winchester's alert he's still a part of. "Blasts from the past?" he says out loud. Damn it, he goes to take off, following behind. He tells Cassie that he had to go do something, please explain to Freya he'll call her later.

Outside, Gray calls after his sister. )

Steph, wait up!

( He catches up to her, but doesn't stop her, just keeps walking in whatever direction she wants.

And then he's in front of them again, leaning against a pole and Gray jumps. )

Jesus. ( he says, holding his sister if she reacts, too, instinctively stepping in front. ) We get it, we're in Bizarro world, she asked you to leave us alone.

( Semantics say she didn't but, Damon can't.

"It's all very me, storming off in a huff. The pout's on point, too. And the horror. Why don't we take a seat at this nice café and compare notes. See if we can't get to the bottom of this." It's really all he can offer. "Running around this city isn't going to help you," Damon thinks. "Especially, if something really weird is going on. And I'm the familiar face you got. I will even explain Freya."

It's kind of a take it or leave it offer. More, they have no choice, because he's getting to the bottom of it. Damon's staying off the group chat for the time being, though.

Maybe this is all a ruse.

"I'm going to make one," he says, holding up a finger. "Phone call. Do me a favor. Sit here. Don't move. Order something. Breathe. And I'll be right back," he says.

Gray, feeling like he has no choice, still checks in with his sister to see what she wants to do, but Damon has a call to make to one of the only people he trusts in this city right now.

He doesn't know what Lindsay's doing, but in the middle of the busy street, he looks back at -- whoever these kids are and dials Lindsey's number.

"Come on, pick up," he says. )

[Stephanie doesn't know if she has an appetite anymore, but she will sit in the cafe while he makes his stupid phone call and try to sort through this tidal wave of complicated feelings.

Lindsay, however, has learned that while she needs both Damon and Klaus' help for wedding planning, having both of them in the same wedding planning sessions means nothing will get done, so she's split their time accordingly. Tonight, it's testing caterers, and while Klaus goes to negotiate (read: threaten) rates, she and Beck are enjoying the food.

Her phone rings, and she excuses herself from her fiancé's side while going to answer:]

Do you think it's rude to sign up for wedding cake tastings if we already know where we getting the wedding cake from?

[She clearly has not realized that Damon's world has turned on it's head.]

( He reminds himself, tomorrow, after his next session with Cami, he has another venue check with Lindsay. Damon is about aesthetics and style. Well, probably. If these aren't his kids. How can they be his kids? How is that possible? He watches as the guy stares at him and the girl - she needs to do something besides pout. )

Rude, no, a waste of everyone's time. Maybe. But, you get free cake. Speaking of free cake, your friend Mia lives her whole different life, right?

I'm not sure how that relates to cake, but yeah. When she got called, a whole alternate timeline unlocked in her brain, why?

[She and Mia are close enough that she's getting invited to the wedding but not close enough that she could have been a bridesmaid, so she's curious as to why Damon is bringing up that specifically.]

And that timeline, it was as real as you or me, or the two teenagers who found me at Rousseau's, bitch-slapped me with their words, and showed me a picture of me and Elena at their high school graduation.

( That has something to do with cake. )

Me, Elena, and them. It's a long story, I'm casually dating someone and the spunkier girl freaked out. Because I'm cheating. On their mother. Elena.

[Lindsay is silent for a moment, trying to process that statement. She looks back at her fiancé, before turning back to the door.]

I'm sorry, are you saying that you've been accosted by two of your children with Elena from an alternate timeline?

[Because that feels well ... nuts. But also not out of the realm of expectation for a Slayer.]

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