Done With This Graceless Heart
…
Summary: Set after 3x22, and after Klaus has been put back into his own body. Matt and Rebekah build bridges, but not before exchanging a few home truths that will surely change their relationship forever. Platonic Matt/Rebekah.
…
The first time she catches his eye after the dust has settled regarding Elena's new situation (she couldn't help but grimace when she found out; now she's stuck with that miserable, petulant, know-it-all for all eternity, and she has nobody to blame but herself), she's more than surprised when his eyes actually lock on hers, and there's no trace of visible contempt there.
Perhaps the real emotion that shows punches her in the gut even more.
Guilt.
He's equalling his own failure to stop the truck in time with her despicable (depending on which side of the argument you fall on; pro-Original, or pro-doppelgänger) decision to stand in the middle of the road, watching with flat, vacant eyes at the tragedy unfolding, and she finds she hates that.
The only chivalrous human being in this entire town shoulders her own crimes on his so young shoulders, and she knows what guilt can do to you if you choose to burden yourself with it. It wears you down, ages you, turns you into a fraction of what you were. It turns you inside out as you try and come to terms with it, but in the end you can never abolish guilt once you've accepted it into your world; you just have to carry on like it's not inside your mind, gnawing at it even when you're not entirely focused on its presence.
If anyone deserves even a fragment of happiness in this entire town, without even knowing his history, Rebekah understands it's Matt. His selfless aura pulses as bright as the strongest star in the universe, and she can relate to him in so many ways, and so the only decision she's ever made which (she'd felt) she'd been completely justified in doing is now tainted with regret.
And that's the first time she's ever felt that Elijah may have been right the night after they'd stopped their mother from casting the spell to end their entire existence.
"Mother made us vampires, but she didn't makes us monsters. We did that to ourselves."
A tainted, bloodstained soul is always going to look that much more corrupted next to a pure one, but all the same, she cannot help but reflect on the bitter irony in the fact all she's ever wanted to do is live a human life (and actually attend a bloody dance for once) and in the quest to achieve that, her actions have done nothing but torn apart the lives of other humans.
….
She learns to drive.
It's harder than she first thought, but she achieves a license and purchases a cute little Ford Focus (although she's yet to discover why the guy who sold it to her gave her such a conflicting look of desire and contempt), and the first time she breaks down somewhere, she contemplates calling her brother for help.
But she's always had too much pride for that.
In the end, a rustic car, making the most irritating clanging sound as it makes its presence known, appears, and she watches Matt brake before coming over to inspect the damage. He opens the bonnet, mutters a few choice words she doesn't understand, and without directing a single word towards her, returns to his car, pulls out some sort of kit, and gets to work fixing her car.
She's never felt so awkward in her entire life; and this is coming from a girl who once single-handedly coordinated a fashion show in Paris. She's a people person through and through (although she tends to maim or kill the ones that displease her, so that may be a moot point), so the fact his presence has thrown her a curve-ball she cannot deal with is astonishing.
He fixes it within seconds, and she dares to throw him a grateful smile, but his face tightens.
"Engine's fixed. Probably the only mistake of your life that even can be fixed, so..."
He leaves that sentence hanging, backs away slowly, and disappears as though doing that particular good deed has left a black mark on his soul.
She ducks down, ashamed at admitting his words scorch her more than they should, but it's more than that.
His thinly disguised contempt for her, for once, affects her. She wants to see the warmth in his eyes, wants him to look at her with anything but that cold disinterest which, strangely enough, burns more than the contempt.
She wants to see him smile again; and it sickens her that she's the reason his sky may never be quite free of stormy clouds ever again. She's the sole reason why his shadow seems to consume him, leaving very little light in his world, and she hates that she hates herself for it. Kol, her darling idiot brother, may not always have the ability to let intelligent thoughts cross his lips, but he is right on one point.
Humans and vampire relationships are just something to actively avoid. It all used to be a lot simpler when she fed from them, and that was that. When you stop and talk to one, you're reminded of everything you once were, and that's when matters become complicated.
Too complicated, in fact.
….
She resumes school, although it's utterly tedious. Truth be told, she wants a sense of normality, even though she knows she'll never attain it. She attends her classes, occasionally answers the odd question, but with a sense of boredom to try and match the tone of the room, but when it comes to the end of the day, she lingers a little after school, waiting to see if he'll surface at all.
Occasionally, he does, wearing that resigned look she knows ironically he's resigned himself to wearing for the rest of his life.
His eyes meet hers a couple of times, but he doesn't ever respond. By now, she's used to the men in her life not indulging her with their attention, but it's a sign of how much she's changing (around him, specifically) that she no longer throws a tantrum like a brat when his eyes avert from hers, the tiniest of scowls the only sign that he's registered her even being there.
She's never felt so isolated before. Elijah frequently scolds hers for matters he would've ignored before; Klaus never speaks to her, unless it's to yell at her, or to mutter remarks clearly meant to make her feel guilty; Damon and Stefan have just stopped acknowledging her altogether.
For a girl who thrives off attention, her world has completely turned inside out because of an act she felt had been necessary to protect her family. All her good intentions have been painted black, and put on a pedestal to show how every dark deed ever committed in history seems paler in comparison to what she'd done, which she finds extremely unfair.
How is she supposed to redeem herself when there's nobody to redeem herself to?
It's like being the sole survivor after an apocalypse, and she's been charged with the task of nursing the world back to health. It just can't be done without someone there to acknowledge, or even support, her efforts.
….
She's pissed off with Klaus.
Like furiously pissed off, which, she understands, is a bit of an oxymoron, but she doesn't care.
One of his stray hybrids started being extra cocky towards her, and it seems her darling brother didn't extend his protection policy to his own sister, so now she's locked in a physical fight with someone who matches her strength.
He tries to bite her, and she attempts to rip his heart out, but he predicts that move and flips them so he's poised in the exact same position. She lets loose a shriek-borderline-howl, and goes in for the kill, but then he gets her on her back, and somehow has a stake in his hand, so she takes a moment to sneer at the pathetic weapon, before realising it's still going to fucking hurt, so this asshole needs to die, and she's beginning to think maybe her brother set this all up to punish her (like she needs punishing anymore).
And then, out of nowhere, there's the sound of tearing flesh, and bones crunching, and the hybrids' head just slides forwards, which she neatly dodges, even as a spray of blood decorates her face.
In front of her, looking slightly shell-shocked, stands a frozen Matt, whose heart is racing a little too fast for her liking. His cheeks are a little flushed, even though the rest of his skin is a pale white in colour, and she slowly rises to her feet, wishing she could utter something, but she's frozen too, and she's never been tongue-tied for anyone before.
She's almost human in his presence; she hasn't quite worked out if that's a good thing, or the kind of fact which will wreck her entire world, but either way, it's nice to know someone out there cares whether she lives or dies, although maybe there's another motive behind him helping.
So her tone takes on a defensive stance.
"I could handle that. I didn't need to be rescued," she responds haughtily.
He stares at her, his gaze cool and his jaw clenched.
"Yeah, you looked like you were doing just fine," he says sarcastically.
Okay, maybe she deserved that.
"I'm an Original. You're human." Why is she stating the obvious here? "He could've killed you, but me...I'm a little more durable."
"Okay. My mistake." He shrugs, stepping backwards with his hand outstretched. "Forgive me for wanting to lower the death toll here." He strides away, barely glancing back as he adds, "God knows there's been enough death around here already."
"Wait," she calls, striding after him, her heels clipping on the ground, and he sighs before turning around.
"What?"
She frowns at his tone, but doesn't rebuke him. In her mind, she still revisits the moment he'd draped a coat around her shoulders, even though she'd tried to tell him she didn't get cold, but the words had simply slid into the cold night, and she'd smiled up at him, warmed by the look in his eyes.
"Thank you," she says, somewhat bluntly. "I didn't need the help, but I appreciate it all the same."
"It's okay to admit you need help sometimes, Rebekah," he cuts across her impatiently. "You don't think I see how alone you are now that everybody is punishing you for what happened to Elena? You don't think I get it?"
Her jaw sets; she blinks back tears because she is so not having this conversation with him.
"I'm fine," she says, overcompensating for the sheer rejection she feels by filling her tone with a confidence she just doesn't have. She stares at him. "Why are you continuing to be nice to me when I'm the reason Elena is a vampire?"
Whatever warmth had filled his eyes is now gone. Evaporated. Non-existent.
He shuts down before her (clearly Elena's name is a sore point; noted), and she watches with a degree of helplessness as her last ally shrinks away at the sight of her, and she feels completely alone.
"Goodbye, Rebekah," he delivers, with a degree of hurt in his voice, but she can't figure out what that hurt even means, let alone how to heal it.
And this time she doesn't stay to watch him leave. She turns on her heels, and strides away, with the intention of consuming all the alcohol this town has to offer until she forgets why misery seems to be her new best friend these days.
…
"Why so glum, Bekah?" Kol remarks, sliding her a shot from across the bar.
She's both irritated and glad he's rolled back into town; glad, because he's the only one in this whole town who couldn't give a damn about what she's done (he doesn't give a damn about Elena either, which is a bonus), but irritated because he's about as sympathetic as a rock in regards to how she's feeling.
"I told you. Nik and Elijah keep shutting me down," she grumbles. "I'm sick of their hypocrisy."
"They'll come around," Kol reasons. "They'll stay on their high horses until it suits them to do otherwise." He knocks back his own shot. "Frankly, the only thing I'm disappointed about is that you chose to execute your plan in such a boring manner. Why did you not set the girl on fire? After your tens of thousands of complaints about her, I figured if you were ever going to end her miserable life, you would've made her suffer first."
A ghost of a smile flickers across her face.
"I didn't exactly have enough time to make her suffer, Kol." She downs her own shot. "Besides, from what information I gathered on the girl so far, her parents died the same way, so I figured maybe suffering the fates her parents had might just be cruel enough without going to any extra effort."
Her brother whistles lowly.
"Wow, Bekah. That's cold even for you." He grins. "I'm proud of you, sis."
Normally, she would've thrived on the compliment, but it feels like an empty gesture; a symbolic representation of why her life is going absolutely nowhere right now. Even with the support of Kol (who, let's face it, has never possessed a moral bone in his entire life) she can't help but feel lonelier than ever, and she covers that up with an indifferent façade and fifty shades of sarcasm layering every remark that escapes her crimson lips.
And when she turns her head a fraction, she realises she always forgets to take into account this is where he works, until her eyes lock with his, and she sees the disgust and heartbreak ripple across his face, like disturbed water, and she knows he's heard every damn word she's uttered.
She turns her head, lets her hair fall across her eyes (to hide the shame) and proceeds with her course of self-destruction, one alcoholic beverage at a time.
….
Eternity tends to stretch anyway, but it seems to go extra slowly for a vampire with family issues, and a temper as fierce and uncontrollable as the untameable ocean, and a raging urge to feed and tear and destroy just to get rid of this unbearable ache growing inside her.
But she endures.
Barely.
For a slow dying flower deprived of its much needed sunlight, she's doing pretty well considering the circumstances. But she's losing her petals, and succumbing to the darkness, and she's trying to claw her way back with every breath she possesses, but sooner or later she wonders whether even the brightest star must collapse at some point, like it's an inevitability she has to face.
It's almost funny (except it's really the opposite), but she's been on this earth for a thousand years, and the only thing that's made her feel even close to being alive and human is when a small town boy shrugged off his jacket to slip around her shoulders, even though really she's cold by nature anyway.
How pathetic is that?
….
The next time she encounters Matt, she's walking at night, looking for some lost soul to drain dry (she ignores her brothers' cold advice not to raise the death toll here any higher than it already is, figuring if they're punishing her for her mistake, she might as well punish them for theirs) and he brushes past her, eager to get home.
"Matt," she calls, but he ignores her, and finally her patience is at its limit.
She speeds forwards, grabbing him a little rougher than she intended, and pushes them down an alley, her eyes flashing with irritation.
"What?" he snaps, barely flinching at how intense her stare is.
"You gonna keep walking past me and pretending like you don't keep saving me?" she demands, tilting her head to one side, unwilling to admit that what she's really feeling here is hurt. It's easier to pretend it's just anger.
"Why not? It's a good system for both of us," he retorts. "I get to actually be of some use and help, without anybody knowing that I'm helping you, and you get to live another day, being the unfeeling bitch that you are."
"So this comes down to you feeling useless, is that it?"
"No, Rebekah, it comes down to the fact that while I was unconscious, my best friend in the entire world let herself drown just to save my life," he snarls, and she's almost ashamed to admit she's a little turned on by the strength and passion in his voice. "And the way you talked about it to your brother..." He wraps his hands around his head, looking up at the sky, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Do you even get what it's like to feel guilty over something you'll never be able to change? Have you ever felt anything other than this desire to just ruin everyone else's lives? Huh?!"
"That's not fair," she snaps. "Have you any idea what it's like to have your own mother try and kill you, to tell you that she's doing it because she loves you right before she goes and possesses your own body to do her own dirty work?"
They are at a stalemate, locked in a battle involving their own demons, and it's not exactly a pretty picture. In reality, she should be cherishing moments like this, because ironically, despite the subject matter, this moment right here is a human moment; the whole arguing-with-a-boy moment. But she's reminded of the reality the moment that thought passes through her mind, because those fleeting human moments soon wither and fade, committed to memory because they're all she has left to hold on to, and she finds a lone tear falls down her cheek before she can stop it.
"If you hate me for so much for what I've done," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do you still act like the perfect gentleman around me? My own brothers refuse to exchange more than a few words with me, the Salvatores won't even look at me, so why are you – the one person who has reason to hate me more than any other – still so damn nice to me?"
"Maybe because I don't want to be like everyone else and get revenge simply because there's no other way of dealing with you," he retorts, exhaling sharply, the tension radiating from his body almost visible, so palpable is it in texture. "I've only just sort of got on board with the idea of vampires in the first place, and the way I see it, all that's happening here is we're all just attacking and defending and retaliating all the time. I'm tired. I'm tired of losing people. I'm tired of my friends fighting my battles for me. It shouldn't be like this. My life used to revolve around paying bills and working at the Grill and school. Now it revolves around all that plus defending my friends from monsters who want to kill them."
"Is that what you think of me?" Her lip almost trembles at the question. "That I'm a monster?"
He exhales again.
"I thought you might've been one of the exceptions," he admits. "I kind of liked how you asked me to Homecoming like it was going to be the best night of your life. I kind of liked that when you weren't being a bitch to Elena, you actually could be...well...nice."
She gives a shaky laugh.
"You sound surprised."
"I am," he says flatly. "Because judging by the rest of your family, no offence, the word 'nice' seems to be a foreign word in your world. You try and protect each other, and I get that – believe me, no one gets that more than me – but there's a line." He pinches the ridge of his nose. "There's always a line, Rebekah. And you cross it. Frequently."
She purses her lips, unsure how to proceed after that little speech. Not a single lie has crossed his lips, but there are things he will never understand. There are parts of history he will never learn at school, moments he's never been privy to that explain why her family are the way they are, but it works the other way too. She's sure he has his secrets, his memories that have defined him as a human being, and there's definitely a story behind every worry line encroached along his forehead.
In some ways, he's more complicated than her entire family are, and she likes that about him. She likes him full stop, and that scares her for so many reasons.
"If it helps, Matt, I'm sorry you were in the truck when I stood in the middle of the road," she says, and it's not the apology he probably wants to hear, but she'll never be sorry for what he wants her to be sorry for. "I saw an opportunity to protect my family, and I took it. You saw the same when you took out Finn."
"I didn't know much about Finn, but he seemed like a good guy," Matt admits, looking faintly remorseful. "I kind of wish he was the one we hadn't taken out."
"If it weren't for my mother, there would never have been a reason to take one of us out in the first place," she tells him. "It's survival of the fittest, Matt. It'll always be vampires versus humans, and the Salvatores would do well to remember that. Very rare is it that you find examples of lasting relationships – friendship or otherwise – between vampires and humans that didn't lead to one turning the other." She begins to walk away, hesitating before turning back to give him the faintest of smiles. "You're a good friend, Matt, and the best and brightest of what is human."
"Okay, I'm not really understanding what this is," he calls after her, the confusion evident in his voice. "I still...can't forgive you for what you did."
"I know," she replies, somewhat morosely. "And I can't forgive you for what you did to Finn. He was my brother, no matter what. I could've snapped your neck in retaliation, or tortured you in some way."
"So why didn't you?"
She shrugs.
"Maybe you're not the only sick of fighting all the time. I try and be human, but being a vampire means it's not always easy to. Fighting and being a predator is what comes natural to us. It's only after all the bloodshed and violence that we let our humanity in just a little bit, if for no other reason than to remind us that we still have it."
She walks off, still hearing the sound of his heavy breathing even as she speeds away. She memorises the sound of his heartbeat, commits his smile to memory, and lets out the breath she's been holding.
She knows she has to leave town. She should've left the moment after she'd made Matt lose control of his truck, but something compelled her to stay. Maybe it was for her brothers. Maybe it was just because she had nowhere else to go. Or maybe, quite possibly, it had to do with making sure Matt survived, although she hadn't really taken that into consideration before causing his truck to swan dive off the bridge.
And she thinks about Elena's decision to save Matt before herself, and wonders whether she doesn't respect her just a little bit for that. She'll never quite like her, but she and Elena share a few things in common. A desperate need to protect their family. A burning ache for a consuming love, and just to belong.
And, of course, not leaving out their shared affection for a boy with sunshine blonde hair, and a gentle smile, with warm eyes that sing of a soldier who will always carry on fighting, no matter what.
A/n: No idea what compelled me to write this one-shot, but I had to make it about Mabekah. :) Adore these two. Hope you enjoyed anyway :) Might write them again in the near future.