19|UNDER CONTROL

Gemma jolts awake when her comforter is ripped off of her, her eyes snapping open as she sits up with a start. Her eyes quickly find Damon's and she glares, her eyebrows drawing together as she gazes up at him. "What are you doing?"

"How can you sleep through that?" He yells, waving his arms around in the general direction of Stefan's room.

"I took sleeping pills last night," she replies as she slips out of bed. She straightens her pajamas before stretching, a yawn escaping her lips. When she still feels Damon's stare on her, she widens her eyes for emphasis. "Dude, what?"

"Go ask him to turn it down!" Damon whines, his shoulders slumping. Gemma does nothing and he huffs, grabbing his cup of blood off of her nightstand and stomping out of the room. Curious, she follows behind him to see the scene unfold in her younger brother's room. "Could you turn it up a little bit?" Damon questions as he shuffles into the boy's room. "It's not annoying yet."

"Sorry," Stefan pants, doing push-up.

Gemma watches him with narrowed eyes. Exercise, she thinks in distaste. Couldn't be me.

Damon turns off the music before speaking again, "when are you going back to school?"

"Soon."

"Oh, come on," Damon groans. "Just drink already, this self detox is not natural."

"Don't goad him, Damon," Gemma hisses. The last thing they need is Stefan going on a bender and murdering the townspeople. It'd be a hell of a clean up on aisle Mystic Falls.

Damon smirks and puts down his cup next to Stefan, watching him with amused eyes.

"Can you get that away from me, please?" The youngest Salvatore snaps.

Gemma moves forward and grabs the cup, holding it firmly between her hands as Damon gives her a thanks for ruining all of the fun look.

"How long did it take you to wean yourself of it the last time you indulged?" Damon asks. Stefan ignores him, continuing to do push-ups and Damon exhales heavily, shaking his head. "That's not good."

"I'll be fine," Stefan says. "It just takes a little bit of time."

"I don't get it; you know, you don't have to kill to survive. That's what blood banks are for. I haven't hunted a human in... God, way too long— and Gemma, she doesn't even crave blood enough to make a dent most times."

Gemma side eyes him, "because I'm not greedy, Damon. People need that blood."

"Yeah," he scoffs. "Me."

"Oh, my God."

"It's completely self serving," he confesses. "I'm trying to get the town off the trail of vampires which is not very easy considering that there is an entire tomb of them running around."

The female Salvatore shifts uncomfortably, the thought dawning on her. With all of the dramatics and unloading all of trauma, she had completely forgot they still had a problem. The woman assumes they'll never completely have peace in Mystic Falls, not at this point.

"What are we planning on doing about that?" Stefan wonders.

"We are not going to do much of anything if you don't have your strength. There's nothing wrong with partaking in a healthy diet of human blood from a blood bank. You're not actually killing anyone."

"I have my reasons," the younger brother says vaguely. He stops doing push-up and he stands from the ground, putting his hands on his hips as he matches the stare of his two siblings.

"Well, what are those holier-than-thou reasons?" Damon urges. "You know, we never actually discussed this. I'd love to hear this story."

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Stefan grits his teeth, "watching me struggle?"

"Very much so."

Gemma exhales and leans against Stefan's desk, watching her siblings bicker. She knew Damon didn't hold much resentment for Stefan anymore. Maybe it's just the eldest siblings pride getting in the way of admitting it.

"I hate to break it to you, Damon, but I..." He pauses, "have it completely under control."

"You do?" Damon hums, "well, then you should just carry on, making the rest of us vampires look bad." He shuffles toward the door and lingers in the threshold, flashing his brother a dry smile. "Have a great day, Stefan."

"That was tense," Gemma comments once the raven haired man disappears. She moves from the desk and trudges closer to Stefan, stopping in his tracks whenever the youngest Salvatore's eyes get stuck on the cup of blood in her hand. She covers it with her palm, giving him a tight smile. "You're doing great, Stefan. Don't let Damon push you too much."

He nods stiffly, watching her as she begins to leave the room. "Gem," he calls at the last minute. She turns to face him, her eyebrows raised in silent question. "You're doing great, too. I'm... I'm proud of you."

She swallows thickly, her chest swelling with a newfound warmth for her brother. Her lips pull into a wide smile and she ducks her head, leaving the room with her shoulders less heavy.

\\

Gemma walks alongside Willow on the sidewalk, her hands shoved into her jacket pocket as she gazes straight ahead. The therapist had invited her for a friendly walk, which Gemma assumes is just another way that Willow will try to poke and prod into the Salvatore's head.

"How are you?" Willow finally breaks the silence, her arms moving by her sides while she walks.

"I'm..." Gemma pauses, searching for another word. She remembers that Willow hates how often she uses the word fine. Willow says that fine is just another word for bare minimum contentment. Maybe she's right. "I'm okay. I took some sleeping medicine last night because after the session, it was kind of rough."

"How so?" Willow wonders.

Gemma stutters in her step when she leans too far to the side, her arm bumping into Willow's side. She smiles weakly at the woman's light laugh, inhaling softly before continuing to speak. "I just felt drained. Almost like I wasn't exactly sure what to do now that it's all out in the open. Keeping all of those secrets and feeling burdened by them was a big part of my identity. I feel like, maybe... maybe I can figure things out now."

"Have you made the connection on why those secrets stopped you from developing into the person you can be? Or the person you want to be?"

"I've always wanted to be better, to be more. I guess I just felt like I didn't really deserve to be free from all of it. It happened to me, it was mine. It almost... it almost feels like I was comfortable in all of it."

"Sometimes that happens," Willow comments as they turn down a different block, Elena Gilbert's house coming into view.

The girl had called Gemma and asked her to come over as soon as she could. While the female Salvatore was anything but ready to see Elena again, the human sounded frantic over the phone so she agreed.

"You let sadness keep you company for so long that when you're ready to kick it out, it almost feels solemn. Like it's the only constant that's ever been in your life."

"Yeah," Gemma whispers absently. "Yeah, it does feel like that."

"So," Willow grins widely. "Progress obviously takes time, but what's your first order of business? As a new woman, what's your goal to get better?"

The woman exhales slowly. If she thought confessing all of the trauma was hard, she was dead wrong. Gemma doesn't even have a remote idea of what she wants to do with her life, not that she can do much. Eventually she'll have to move on and start fresh, like most vampires—with a moral compass— do.

"I'm not sure," she admits. "Something to keep me busy during the day, maybe? I get sad when I'm not distracted. I start dwelling, and then drinking."

"Well, you have your sessions with me..." Willow hums, "unless you want to see me more than once or twice a week, we should start looking for more hobbies. What do you like to do?"

"Read," Gemma answers unsurely. The woman loved a good book but most of the time, her mind strayed from the paragraphs onto more dreadful things. "When I was—" Human. "A little happier, I used to like photography. I'd hike for hours trying to find the perfect picture."

"Right, well, being in the middle of the woods alone in Mystic Falls of all places probably isn't the best idea," Willow mutters, her eyebrows furrowing together as she contemplates.

"What are you talking about?" Gemma's breath hitches, her eyes searching Willow's expression for any signs of knowing. It was no secret that Mystic Falls had its special quirks, but she didn't think the blonde had any idea what goes on behind closed doors.

"All of the animal attacks a while back," Willow replies, looking at Gemma worriedly. "I know they caught the mountain lion but going into the woods seems a little risky, Gemma."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. I won't go, I promise."

"How about starting off with something smaller? Why don't you get a plant? Gardening helps, I've heard."

"You've heard? Aren't you the therapist?"

"Tomato, tomato."

"No, I—"

"I'm sure Elena's waiting for you," Willow cuts the woman off as they finally make it to the end of Elena's small driveway. She flashes Gemma a smirk and wiggles her eyebrows before skipping off down the sidewalk, her floral patterned blouse fluttering in the wind as she bounces.

"Okay," Gemma trails off. She shakes her head in disbelief before trudging up the sidewalk to the front porch. If it weren't for having to knock on the door, she'd have shoved her hands into her pockets to hide the trembling of her fingers. She wasn't ready to face Elena yet, not after the day before. Elena's reaction wasn't bad per say, but the human didn't exactly reassure Gemma's worst fears either.

Before the vampire can dwell any further, the door swings open and Elena peers up and Gemma with kind eyes. "Hi," she greets. "You wanna come in?"

Gemma makes a vague sound of confirmation before following Elena into the house, pausing once she gets past the doorway and the door shuts behind her. "So, um, what am I... what did you need?" Elena wordlessly points upstairs with an expectant look and Gemma freezes, her eyes going wide. "You want me to go in your room?"

Elena scowls and grabs Gemma's arm, pulling her up the stairs with a newfound haste. She urges the woman into her room and shuts the door, running a hand through her hair with a distressed look. The vampire takes it upon herself to sit on Elena's bed, cradling the human's stuffed bear to her chest while she waits patiently for Elena's to speak.

"I'm worried about Stefan," Elena finally says.

Gemma nearly collapses onto the bed with frustration. This house call was about Stefan?

"He says that everything's okay, but he's clearly struggling. How long is it going to take before he goes back to normal?"

"Well, look at it from his perspective. You've deprived yourself of something for nearly a century and a half, sort of." Gemma figures she better not mention the Ripper of Monterey debacle. "You've spent all of that time trying to rid yourself of the guilt and pain from it all, and... and it's all just gone in a matter of seconds. Of course he's struggling, Elena. It'd be concerning if he weren't. Give it a few days."

"It's been a few days."

"Okay, give it a few weeks."

"He's not himself, Gemma. I'm worried."

"Who is Stefan, really?" Gemma falls back into Elena's bed, "maybe he hasn't been himself this whole time and that's the problem. Maybe—"

"Oh, my God, who are you?" Elena groans, "I miss broody Gemma, she was more forward with answers."

"Okay, give me a minute." Gemma hardens her face and sits up, staring at Elena with a blank expression. "I say we chain him up and torture him until he tells us the truth. It half ass worked for Fredrick."

Elena gasps, "Gemma!"

"What?" Gemma questions, "you said you wanted me to brood."

"I just need help with this."

"Elena," the vampire sighs, giving the girl a serious look. Gemma tried to be light hearted with the girl, she tried to let her know that it would be taken care of regardless of what happened, but if Elena wanted real answers, the Salvatore would most definitely give them to her. "The Stefan you've seen thus far is not the Stefan that'll exist if he's drinking human blood. You've seen him reigned in and caring about humanity, but that's not even close to how he'll act whenever he's off of the animal stuff. If you think for a second that he's the holier-than-thou boy you've painted him out to be, you're wrong. We all have wickedness, peach. Blood is his."

Elena inhales sharply, shaking her head. "He's not Damon, Gemma. Not even close."

"No," Gemma stands and gently hands the girl her stuffed animal, a sympathetic smile gracing her lips. "He's worse."

\\

Gemma nervously twists the rings on her fingers as she shuffles up the stairs of the Founder's Hall with her two brothers. She had seen the celebration as an excuse to follow Willow's stern instruction of wear something colorful, stop drowning yourself in leather jackets and loose fitting jeans. Gemma rather liked her own style, but she thought she'd give the alternative a try. So here she was; clad in a pale pink, floral dress and tan shoes. Her hair falls down over her shoulders and for once, she's grateful because she can use that as a curtain for when she doesn't want to speak with people.

"Oh God," Stefan groans silently, throwing his head back. "I shouldn't be here."

"We could just leave," Gemma pipes up.

"Come on, don't be downers, guys," Damon tells them. "It's a party for the founding families! That would be us. That would be rude to skip it."

Gemma mocks Damon under her breath as she follows him inside the building, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Stefan's behind her. If she has to endure this, so does he.

"I really liked you a whole lot better when you hated everybody," the youngest Salvatore comments as he comes to a stop on the other side of Gemma.

"Oh, I still do," Damon muses. "I just love that they love me."

"I'm not sure if you know this, but you're really narcissistic," Gemma informs him, her eyes crinkled in concern. "Do you need a session with Willow? I can get you one."

"You're a dick."

"Mhm," she turns her head to look at Stefan, her eyebrow raising whenever she sees him biting the inside of his cheek. "You feelin' okay?"

"I'm good, I'm fine," he brushes her off.

"Willow says that the word fine is just a diversion."

"Willow says a lot of things," Stefan reminds his sister.

"No cravings?" Damon interrupts their conversation? goading his beother. "No urges? Is that whiskey you've been drinking all day doing it's job?" Stefan laughs dryly, avoiding Damon's eyes as he continues to taunt him. "We are who we are, Stefan. Nothing's going to change that."

"Nothing will make you happier than to see me give up, will it Damon?"

"Whatever, it's inevitable."

Stefan roll his eyes, "I'm gonna go find Elena."

Damon watches him go with a smirk, waving him off. "Don't embarrass me, young man!"

Gemma side eyes Damon before shaking her head and shuffling into the room that had been turned into a makeshift dance floor. She weaves through the small crowd of people packed together and heads toward the bar, sliding onto a stool and flashing the bartender a small smile. "Can I get a glass of wine, please?"

He nods with an easy grin before turning to make her drink, leaving the woman alone to her thoughts. Before the bartender can deliver the drink, her younger brother is idling up to her side and demanding a whiskey from the already busy man.

"Drowning your sorrows?" Stefan hums, his eyes glazed over.

Gemma stares at him, "no. Are you already drunk? We just got here."

"They offer drinks around every corner," he replies.

"Just because they're offering, doesn't mean you take them."

The bartender turns and hands Gemma her wine, immediately busying himself with making Stefan's drink next. Gemma takes a slow sip of her drink, ignoring Stefan's smug look.

"You take them, apparently."

"I'm of age," Gemma sniffs. "You're seventeen." She says rather loudly, watching as the bartender tenses at her words. He turns to look at Stefan and the boy glares at him until he finishes making the whiskey.

Stefan takes the cup from him as soon as he turns around, huffing whenever the man rushes to the other side of the bar.

Gemma raises her eyebrows and looks over her shoulder whenever Stefan raises his arm and waves. The surprised, wide grin of Elena Gilbert greets the vampires, the human giving her boyfriend a skeptical look as she shuffles up toward them.

"Hey," Stefan greets her with a sloppy kiss to the cheek. "How are you?"

Elena pulls back, peering up at him. "Are you drunk?"

"Okay, I know it's a little weird, especially considering I'm not Gemma—"

"That's rude," the said woman interjects.

"—but it's really helping me. The alcohol takes the edge off."

"You're totally that drunk high school guy at parties sneaking booze."

"Yes, he is," Gemma agrees. "Excuse me, bartender sir, he's underage."

"Gemma, stop it," Stefan snaps.

Elena looks between the two concerned, "do I need to be worried?"

"Oh, no!" Stefan exclaims, waving her off. "You don't need to be worried. It's just until the cravings go away. Listen, I think we should enjoy it while it lasts. Would you like to dance with me?"

The female Salvatore snorts, drinking a larger gulp of her wine. Willow told her to change her choice of alcohol, to find something that wouldn't help her swim in her sorrows.

"You hate dancing," Elena reminds him. "I usually have to beg you."

"No, no, no, you have to beg the sober me. The drunk me, there is no begging necessary."

"There's really no one dancing."

"Feed everyone alcohol," Gemma says. "That'll help."

"Or it's because they need something better to dance to. I'll be right back," Stefan flashes a grin before striding away toward the DJ.

"Yeah," Kelly Donovan's drunken voice slurs from behind Gemma and Elena. The Salvatore turns toward the woman and raises her eyebrows in question. "That's not gonna work. I already tried to bribe the guy with twenty bucks and a date. He said Carol Lockwood has complete control over the music choices."

"You'd be surprised what Stefan can accomplish when he puts his mind to it."

The music abruptly changes and Kelly makes a sound of excitement, muttering a "thank God" under her breath before shuffling onto the dance floor with Stefan. Gemma shakes her head in disbelief before downing the rest of her wine and leaning against the bar. "He looks like he's having fun," she comments.

Elena hums, her smile tight. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Gemma pauses before nodding, "we always are. You learn to take things in stride after being alive for a century."

"Gemma..." Elena trails off, her voice lowering. "How are you?"

The female Salvatore side eyes Elena, her lips twitching. "I'm okay."

"If you ever—"

"I have Willow," Gemma cuts the girl off, her smile turning strained.

"You have me too," the human frowns.

"I do," Gemma agrees. "With all respect, you've already heard me dish out the worst of it. The last thing I need is for you to hear how bad it is on the inside, too."

Elena sighs and leans against the bar next to the vampire, peering up at her with wide, doe eyes. "It wouldn't change how I look at you, you know? I still look at you the same after yesterday."

"You're lying," Gemma deadpans.

Elena scoffs out a laugh, "I'm not."

"You are. Nobody's the same after hearing that. You're fooling yourself."

"Maybe you should just accept the fact that I respect you enough to disregard your past."

Gemma turns to the girl, eyebrows raised. "I don't want you to disregard it, Elena. I want you to know about it and be my friend anyway. You can't act like it isn't there."

Elena states at the girl, her eyes challenging. She crosses her arms over her chest and sets her lips into a thin line, the thick silence building between she and Gemma. "You're looking for me to treat you differently because of your past."

"No, I—"

"Yes," Elena argues. "I've talked to Willow too, you know. You can't just become self destructive, not with me. I'm in this for the long haul, Gemma."

The Salvatore smiles dryly, flashing Elena her teeth. She picks up a fresh glass of wine and raises it for a toast, her eyes darkening. "To the next sixty years then, little human."

Elena's lips pull into an amused smile before she plucks the glass out of Gemma's hands, taking a long sip from it before handing it back to the vampire. "Let's hope you make them count."

••

Gemma stands next to Alaric in the middle of the room, people excited to hear Mayor Lockwood's speech bumping into the pair left and right. The female Salvatore has half a mind to flash her fangs at them but considering they're surrounded by founding family members, it wouldn't be the best idea.

"How often do you talk to Jenna?" Ric questions, looking down at the dark haired woman for a short second.

"We don't, really. We just find ourselves at the bar and it goes from there."

He laughs shortly, nodding.

"Oh, by the way," she turns to him with an awkward smile. She wasn't overly friendly with Alaric like her big brother was, but she figured he deserved some kind of thanks for his help. "I know you didn't do it for me, but thank you for helping Damon save Stefan and I that day. I don't think we would've made it out of there without you."

Alaric blinks, taken aback. "You're welcome," he tells her. "I saw the shape you were in when they got you out. You didn't deserve that, Gemma. I was glad I could help."

"You also seem to be getting along with Damon—"

"Stop telling lies about me, Gemma." The said man appears next to Alaric, his eyebrows drawn together like they always are when he's concerned about something.

"What is it?" She wonders.

He hums, "I killed uncle John."

Gemma stills, "Elena's uncle John?"

"That one, yes."

Alaric looks between the two siblings with wide, but not alarmed, eyes.

"That's the problem? From what I've heard, the guy's a dick."

Damon smirks before pressing his pointer finger to his lips, hushing his sister. "Mayor Lockwood's speaking."

Gemma hesitantly directs her attention to the front of the room where Mayor Lockwood stands, a wide grin gracing his lips. "Thank you all for joining us tonight. In just a few moments, we will officially begin the countdown to our upcoming Founders' Day celebration and it's a very special one this year. The one hundred and fiftieth birthday of our town!" A bell on top of the table is wheeled in next to him and his grin widens if possible. "And... I'd like to welcome back one of our town's favorite sons to do the honor of ringing our official charter bell. John Gilbert—"

Gemma splutters on the wine she's drinking, her coughing covered by the roar of applause ringing around the room.

"Would you please join me up here?"

John strolls up to the front of the room, his eyes not straying from Damon as a smug smile threatens to break out on his lips. "One hundred and fifty years of community, prosperity, family. We take care of each other, look after each other, protect each other." His eyes narrow, "it's good to be home."

"Look at his right hand," Damon murmurs as the room applauds again.

Gemma does as he says, not understanding. "I don't—"

"It looks like mine," Ric wiggles his fingers.

"Yeah, and that would be a big coincidence if he didn't just come back from the dead five minutes ago. Where the hell did you get that ring?"

"Isobel," Ric breathes. "My wife."

"Who gave birth to Elena, under the medical care under the esteemed Dr. Grayson Gilbert."

"John's brother," Gemma blurts. "This is all kinds of messed up."

"Do you think John knew Isobel?" Alaric asks.

Damon sets his jaw, "I think John knows a lot of things."

••

not edited

i'm so sorry it's been so long, lovely babies 🥺 thank you all for being so compassionate and loving about Gemma's past. i tried my best to accurately, correctly, and without crossing a line, write her trauma in the way it needed to be said. all of the feedback was so kind and i really appreciate all of the nice words. i want you all to marry me, like right now.

right now. 💍

also HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!! you're all so important and so loved, and so so valid. 🤎