I never imagined my life to be so strange, but I was a vampire and a dopplegänger—everything was bound to be strange. In front of me sat a man that looked like Stefan. It wasn't him, or Silas, but a dopplegänger that had been living in Atlanta. His name was Tom, Tom Avery, and he was a paramedic at the Atlanta Metropolitan Hospital. What shocked me the most was that he looked more like Stefan than Silas did, but it was because of the generosity that appeared in his green eyes. 

   When Caroline, Enzo, and I found in him in a house that used to belong to a witch—Enzo killed her by throwing the doorknob at her head—Tom Avery was in a coma-like trance in the basement. I couldn't do it, so Caroline began to strangle him to kill him. It was then when he woke up, when he began to take deep breaths and glanced around the room in fright. His eyes landed on each person for a couple of seconds, but when they landed on me, it was as if he had seen a ghost. He slowly stood and walked over to me, laying a hand on my cheek and asked if I was real.

   At that moment, I didn't know what to say, or what to feel. Why would he ask me if I was real? Did he know me? Had I known him before? It was strange, because his touch on my cheek felt a lot like Stefan's touch, but not the same. It was warm and gentle, but not as warm as Stefan's. I took a step back and turned to Caroline, wide eyed and my heart hammering against my chest with so many thoughts running through my head. 

   "Calm down," Caroline compelled him. "You can trust us."

   "Bonding with him will only make it harder on you," Enzo said from behind us. "You too, Clara."

   "Shut up," I said, waving a hand in his direction. I was too distracted by Tom Avery, by my thoughts about this man.

   "Your our friend," Caroline continued to compel him. "Your our friend and you mean the world to us. Do you trust me?"

   Tom nodded. "Of course."

   "Good," Caroline smiled. "Now, I promise, you won't feel a thing." She sped back and snapped Enzo's neck, surprising both Tom and I. 

   "What's going on?" Tom asked, scared.

   "We're getting you out of here," Caroline said, glancing back at me. "There's a lot of things we need to figure out."

   I nodded. "Like, how the hell does he know me?"

   "Yeah," she breathed, running a hand through her hair. She turned to Tom and gave him a smile. "Come on. I know where we can go."

   It was strange being in a car with a man that looked exactly like Stefan. I wondered if that was how Stefan and Damon felt when they saw Elena for the first time. They must have felt like this, strange and confused and wondering how could they look so alike. I didn't feel like that when it came to Silas because there was something different between him and Stefan: Silas was pure anger while Stefan was just generosity and love. Tom, on the other hand, was generosity and love, but he was also something Stefan wasn't. Human. That was the difference between the two, one was human and the other was a vampire.

    We ended up sitting in the diner we were first at when we arrived to Atlanta. I sat besides Caroline, watching Tom Avery gobble down the food. She had asked him several questions about how he ended up in that house, and his answered were all muffled with his mouth full. He raised a hand and chewed thoroughly.

   "Hazel seemed nice," he said, referring to the witch Enzo killed, "so you know, uh, why not have dinner? So I showered, picked her up, and that was it—that was the last thing I remember for four months."

   "She kidnapped you that night," I said with a sigh. "Had you locked up ever since, and hid you away from anyone that knew magic."

   "Yeah," Caroline nodded. "Okay, now to what we're really wondering: how do you know Clara?"

   "Clara?" he questioned, looking confused. "Who's Clara?"

   "Me," I said, furrowing my brows.

   "You're Clara?" He looked confused, worried, slightly scared. "You're not Emma?"

   I glanced at Caroline and then at him, shaking my head. "No, my name's Clara Forbes. Who's Emma?"

   "Clara, she must have been one of your dopplegängers," Caroline said, staring at me with wide eyes. She turned to Tom. "Did Emma look like her?"

   Tom nodded. "Exactly like her," he said, his voice sounding distant and in awe.

   "Who was she?" Caroline asked. 

   "She was, uh, my wife," he revealed, smiling shyly. 

   "I'm sorry, what?" I asked. My eyes were wide, my heart was beating fast, and I felt as if what he just told me had to be a prank.

   He scratched the back of his head and looked down at the remainder of his food with a shy smile. "She was my wife," he repeated, his smile widening a bit. 

   "Okay, wow, I wasn't expecting this..." Caroline mumbled, glancing at me with a confused face. "Um, how did you-how did you two meet?"

   "We were friends since childhood," Tom began. "In the eighth grade, I asked her out. To be honest, I think I had a crush on her ever since the fourth grade, but I always thought that she was too good for me. In the eighth grade, I got the balls to ask her out, and she said yes." He let out a soft laugh and shook his head, as if he were remembering what he was saying. "When we were seventeen, uh, she got pregnant."

   "Oh, no," I mumbled, laying my head on my hands. I hated how each of my dopplegängers had been pregnant at some point, including myself. What I despised about that was how they got to meet their children, when I hadn't.

   "I thought it was bad at first," Tom continued, "but then I realised that there was nothing more that I wanted than Emma. So, I asked to marry met when we found out, she said yes. The night of our senior prom, she was giving birth. Six months later, we were married. We had our fights, and there were times when we absolutely despised each other, but I loved her, and I wouldn't mind going through all of that again if it had the same outcome of where we had a son and were married."

   "You speak of her like she's in the past," I said, frowning. "Why?"

   Tom's smile faded. In place, there was sadness. I knew that sadness too well, because I had gone though it countless of times. At that moment, I glanced down and wanted to apologise, but the words didn't leave my mouth.

   "About six months ago, she, uh, died," he said, quietly. "Car crash. I was one of the paramedics that responded to the call."

   I stopped breathing, then. How was he feeling at that moment? He was recalling the moment he saw his wife mangled between cars, the moment he lost the woman he loved, and I felt horrible for even asking about her. I felt horrible because we shared the same face.

   "And your son?" Caroline asked, quietly, as if she were afraid of the response. I, too, was afraid of the response. 

   "He, uh..." Tom trailed off as the tears began to emerge from the corner of his eyes. "He was also in the car." He let out a soft laugh and shook his head, quickly wiping away the tears. "I don't know why I'm telling you my whole life story."

   "It's because I compelled you to," Caroline said. "And to stay calm and not worry."

   "You should have been more specific on the stay calm part," I mumbled, seeing the few tears that still fell from the corner of his eyes. I felt horrible, terrible; I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. At that moment, I wanted to be back in Stefan's arm, to kiss him, just because I didn't want to think of the horrors Tom Avery must have seen. 

     "Why do you want to know so much about me?" he asked, glancing from Caroline towards me.

   Because we have to kill you, I thought with a frown. Instead, I pushed a smile forward. "We just want to make sure you're a good guy."

   "No skeletons in the closet," Caroline added with a nod. "That sort of thing."

   "And?"

   I stared at him for a while, then smiled. "You're one of the nicest people I've ever met," I said.

   He smiled and nodded, and began to eat his food once again. While chewing, he stopped and looked up at me. "I'm sorry, but why do you look like her?" He continued to stare, his face filled with bewilderment.

   "It's a long story," I said, glancing down at my hands as I shook my head. "You already know about witches, so I guess I can tell you about doppelgängers. You see, Emma was my doppelgänger. Every hundred years, or so, one of us is born, and well, it gets complicated from there on." I didn't want to mention the part in which we always fell for someone that looked like him, and then died. No, he didn't need to know any of that.

   "There's a German folklore about that," Tom said, beginning to eat again. "That is one sees their doppelgänger, it's bad luck."

   "It's a good thing Stefan isn't here, then," Caroline joked, letting out a small and awkward laugh.

   "There's a famous account that John Donne saw is wife's doppelgänger in 1612 Paris, on the same night as the stillbirth of his daughter," Tom continued, frowning. "But, these things can be symptoms of schizophrenia or epilepsy. Yeah, that must be it."

   I furrowed my brows and shrugged my shoulders. "If that helps you take all of this in, then sure." I sighed and continued to watch as he ate. 

   "You two are nice," he said between chewing. "I do remember the two of you saving my life from that Hazel. So, if there's anything I can do to repay you, let me know."

   I smiled at him. All of the sudden, he began to choke on his food. He reached for the glass of water and took a swig, then choking again before taking another swig of his water. For a moment, my finger itched to grab the water away from him and let him die, that way I didn't have to kill him.

   Before I left Mystic Falls with this quest of either saving or killing Stefan's doppelgänger, it began with Elena being injected with the same virus Damon had, but worse. Before Katherine died, she injected Elena's body with a dose of the venom that had werewolf venom, which will obviously be terrible for a vampire. She was trapped in her dorm house by a witch that was being taught magic from Bonnie.

   Stefan, on the other hand, was trapped somewhere with a bunch of Travelers. One of them, named Sloan, was the one keeping him safe. If I could even call forcing him to tell her information about the doppelgänger safe. She tried to fry his brains several times to get information, sort of like Tessa did with him when she tried to get Silas back. But I, being the wonderful girlfriend, threatened to kill her quite graphically. I surprised everyone, even myself with those words. 

   I sighed. "Well, what we need from you is something I can't take," I said.

   "I don't understand," Tom said, furrowing his brows. 

   "Well, you don't have to," I said with a soft smile. "You just remind me of someone that means the world to me."

   "Well, he's one hell of a lucky guy," Tom smiled. 

   "Yeah," I breathed, glancing down. I took a deep breath and looked at him, right into his eyes. "After this, you're going to get on a train, ride it until you find a place you like; meet a pretty girl; settle down; and be happy for the rest of your long, long life," I compelled. "You're going to think that your wife and son are in a happy place, and you're going to be happy because that's what she would want for you." When I finished compelling him, he began to eat again. I let out a small smile. "Go easy on those carbs," I said. "I hear they're killer."

   A few minute later, after he had finished eating, I turned to Caroline. "We can't kill him," I said with a frown. "I can't kill him."

   "Yeah," she breathed, nodding. She turned her upper body towards me. "Can we talk about how he was married to your doppelgänger? I mean, this was went to me."

   "I think you forget the part where my doppelgänger always dies," I said, making a face. "And this time, they already had a child. And just like everyone that has the same face as me and has a child, they also die." I closed my fist around my jacket and took a deep breath, shaking my head. "I always knew I was cursed, but I didn't know it would cost others their life."

   "Clara..."

   "I know I shouldn't blame myself," I continued. "I should blame Helen and Silas and Tessa, because the three of them began all of this for love, but... I can't help but blame myself, too. I have her face, Helen's, and then Emma has my face, and he was married to her, and it must be so painful when he looks at me and sees the face of his dead wife." I turned to Caroline and frowned. "So, you see, this is why I blame myself so much."

   Before Caroline could say anything else, Tom came back. He drank the rest of his water and smiled at us, telling us that he was full. I laid a twenty dollar bill on the table and stood, smiling at him and saying that we should take him home to pack. He nodded, a bit confused at first, but then remembered that he was leaving. It was a good thing that I had compelled him, because he reminded me oh so much of Stefan. The generosity in him was something amazing. 

   "I don't think I've ever eaten so much in my life," Tom said as we walked across an underground parking lot.

   "Well, it could have been because you were in a coma-like state for four months," I said, giving him a small smile.

   Caroline let out a chuckle. "I don't think anyone has eaten that much in their life."

   "Then I suppose it was a fitting last supper," a voice joined.

   I turned to see Enzo standing behind Tom, a menacing look in his eyes. I shook my head. "No!" Before I could move towards Tom, Enzo had already snapped his neck. I stood over his body with wide eyes, surprised. "Why the hell did you do that?!" I yelled at Enzo, pushing him by the chest. 

   He took a step back by the force of my push and shook his head. "Because you aren't the only one that cut a deal to save someone's life," he said. "The old flame I mentioned, Maggie, the Travelers claim they know where to find here."

   "He had a life," I hissed. "Something none of us have!"

   "Get over it," Enzo said. He rolled his eyes half way, but stopped and turned to me. He took a step forward, standing a bit too close to me. "He wasn't Stefan, Clara. Get that through your head." He leaned closer, his lips close to my ear. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes for the people I love." He leaned back and looked down at me. "The Travelers moved to some junk yard outside Mystic Falls. Feel free to tell Stefan you're the one that saved his life." He turned and left, leaving Caroline and I alone with a corpse. 

   I stared at Enzo's back before looking down at Tom Avery. His eyes were opened in a perpetual state of shock. I reached down and pulled his wallet from his pocket, opening it as soon as my eyes landed on it. It wasn't the money that I was after, but a picture, and I found it. Right in the centre, between the dollar bills and numerous credit cards, was the picture I was looking for. It was a picture of him, of my doppelgänger, and their son. Their son was a small boy of about seven years old, with blonde hair and dazzling green eyes just like his parents. He had a wide smile, innocent, just like a child's smile should be.

   I wondered whether my child would have looked like that if I ever got the chance to meet it. Would he have the same innocent smile as this little boy? Or would it have been a girl? So many thoughts ran through my head, and I couldn't stand them. I pushed the walled back into his pocket and put the picture in mine. One last look at Tom Avery was all it took for me to walk away and join Caroline at the car.

   "He was right," Caroline said after a long time of silence. "He wasn't Stefan, Clara."

   "He didn't have to die," I said, looking from the window to her. "Stefan didn't want him to die either."

   "It was between him and Stefan," she said with a frown. "Who would you have chosen?"

   "Stefan," I answered immediately, without a second thought. "I would have chosen Stefan."

   She nodded and let out a sigh. "To be honest, I sort of agree with Enzo. He may have had Stefan's face, but that wasn't him."

   Caroline dropped me off at the Traveler's camp, which wasn't that hard to find. She said she needed to take care of something, which I thought it could have been checking up on Bonnie and Elena. I thanked her and made my way through the camp, pulling my jacket closer to me, to look for Stefan. He sat on the back of a car, alone, staring up at the stars. 

   I walked over to him, feeling my heart rate accelerate with just him standing there. "Stefan?"

   He turned to me and smiled. "Clara, hey." I took a seat besides him, wrapped my arm around his, and laid my head on his shoulder. He laid his head on top of mine. "Are you..."

   "A big failure?" I finished for him, sighing. "Yeah. I'm also exhausted and a bit cranky."

   He chuckled, and laid a kiss on my forehead. "It's good to see you, Clara," he said. "So, why don't you tell me what happened?"

   "I just did," I sighed, making a face. "I failed, Stefan. I couldn't kill him, not even to save you, and that makes me angry..."

   "You do realise you're feeling guilty for not being able to kill someone, right?" he asked, chuckling. 

   "I'm feeling guilty because you're still a prisoner," I said as I lifted up my head and looked at him. "I'm also feeling guilty because I couldn't kill him to save you. You know, I compelled him to leave. He would have, but Enzo killed him."

   "I'm too important for them to let me go," he said. "And that would be another reason to hate Enzo."

   I let out a chuckle, but shook my head. As I sat there, so close to him, I was reminded of the picture that sat in my pocket. Slowly, I pulled it out and ran my finger through the glossy part. With a sigh, I showed it to Stefan. "This was him," I said, softly. "His name was Tom Avery, he was a paramedic for Atlanta Metropolitan Hospital, and he had a family."

   Stefan grabbed the picture from my hand and stared down at it. "Is this..."

   "Her name was Emma," I said, laying my head back on his shoulder as I continued to stare down at the picture. "They were high school sweethearts. She got pregnant at seventeen, he proposed, she had the baby on their prom night, and they married six months later." I pulled myself closer to Stefan. "She and the kid died six months ago."

   "How?" Stefan asked, quietly.

   "Car crash," I said. "He was one of the paramedics that responded to the accident." I let out a soft scoff, one that was filled with a bit of pain. "I don't know why, but I feel like crying."

   Stefan wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him, his other hand caressing the back of my head. "I think I know why," he said. "It's because this could have been us. We could have had this life. We could have been happy, with a family, human."

   "But, we're vampires," I said, closing my fist on his shirt. "It's scary, you know, thinking of all of these possibilities that could have been. Sometimes, I think that we should have been more cautious. I think of all the things we could have changed, all of the possibilities that could have been changed if I could have done so many things differently."

   He let out a chuckle and kissed the top of my head. "Clara, I don't being this," he said, softly. He pulled away and smiled down at me. "I don't mind being this because I feel like this would have been the only option in which I could end up with you."

   "I mean, if you tried harder back then," I smiled. 

   He tolled his eyes, but leaned down and gave me a kiss. It was gentle and calming, just a simple sign of love that made me smile when I felt down. I pulled away and bit my bottom lip, smiling small. "I love you, Stefan," I said.

   He smiled. "I love you, too, Clara."

   Sometime while talking, we had fallen asleep on the back of the truck. Stefan had his arm draped over my stomach as my my hand was placed over his. It was the sound of the Traverlers chanting that woke me up. When I stirred, Stefan woke up as well. We sat up and looked at each other. He grabbed my hand and helped me get down from the truck so we could go investigate. We hid to see what the Travelers were doing. The Travelers were gathered around a fire, passing around a bowl and drinking from it. It was a scent I knew well—blood. They were drinking blood.

   "Those buckets..." Stefan muttered. "They're drinking my blood, and Elena's."

   "Oh my God," I said, surprised. "Why?"

   He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure..."

   Sloan, the witch that had tortured him for the information of Tom Avery, stuck a torch in the flames and then set one of the Travelers on fire. Suddenly, they all went up in flames.

   "What the hell are they doing?" I wondered out loud, glancing at Stefan.

   His hold on my hand tightened. "This is it," he said, glancing back at me. "This is how we can get out. Come on." As he tightly held my hand, we sped away from the camp as the Travelers screams echoed through the night.