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Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement is intended
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There was a lot of history leading up to the moment Damon plunged that stake into Lexi's heart. The seeds of her destruction were planted a long time ago; carefully nurtured with jealousy, and fertilized with resentment.
I wrote a series of five stories chronicling the events that led up to Lexi's death at Damon's hands. They should be read in this order:
First Seed - Story ID 8837170
Seed of Her Destruction - Story ID 8190540
Another Seed is Planted - Story ID 8773864
Seed to Sprout - Story ID 9232598
Seed to Sprout to Toxic Weed – Story ID 9869542
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New York 1977 - Billy's - A club in Manhattan
The music was loud and raucous, but it battled to be heard over the noisy crowd. The beat of the drums was occasionally punctuated by the sound of broken glass, disturbing no one, since it was second nature for the regulars to duck the shards flying through the air.
Damon had just satisfactorily concluded his transaction with Billy when a disturbance on the floor caught his attention. Engorged and blackened veins under his eyes as well as his elongated canines betrayed his excitement.
Billy half rose from his chair and twisted to follow Damon's gaze. "Hey, be discreet," Billy warned.
"I kill people and give you their ids. You let me feed in your club. Discretion was never part of the deal." Damon's reasonable tone and charming smile made Billy briefly shut his eyes in exasperation and then abruptly leave in a huff.
Damon waited a moment, watching him shove open the swinging door to the back room office, before purposely heading towards the man looking for trouble. Damon fully intended to give him some. He came up behind the rocker, almost wrenching the guy's arm out of its socket, forcing a pain filled cry to escape from his lips. The noise was quickly muffled by one of Damon's hands covering the man's mouth and roughly forcing his head back, baring the throat and the attractively pulsing artery.
As Damon went in for the bite an iron hand descended on his shoulder whipping him around, making him lose his grip on his victim.
"Hey!"
A stunned Damon recognized both the voice and the face from the past. "Lexi?" Damon's tone expressed his surprise while his sneer conveyed his dislike.
"You're gonna feed on him right here? You're getting sloppy, Damon." A sternly disapproving Lexi reprimanded him.
Damon's brow wrinkled in disbelief. What on earth was she doing here? He looked her over from head to toe. Her hair was straight, a big necklace hung round her slender neck, and she wore a white bra bandeau and a mini skirt. A big change from the forties, but to give the devil her due Lexi was always at the forefront of fashion; be it the 1860s or the 1970s.
He decided the best course of action was to just leave, but she wasn't about to let him escape. She followed him out the graffiti strewn back door, into the garbage littered alley, never once interrupting her constant harangue. "That explains everything. Your switch is off," she declared in a tone that brooked no opposition.
"I can't even hear my prey over your constant babbling," he complained all the while thinking how much he hated that know-it-all lecturing tone she was famous for.
He kept walking, fruitlessly hoping she would go away, but she wasn't done. "You aren't covering your tracks. We heard about you back in Mystic Falls."
He swung around to face her, eyes wild. Things clicked into place for him. "So, Stefan sent you! Hmm! I thought we were off again in our endless eternity of on again off again misery cycle." Damon's cynical reply masked his inner jolt. Stefan cares.
"Lucky for you he cared just enough to send me to you. So . . .Why'd you flip it? What traumatic event was too much for Damon Salvatore to handle?" She tried but couldn't keep a superior smidgeon of sarcasm from her tone.
Damon made no attempt to hide his displeasure as he symbolically turned his face away from her. Lord, will she not go away and leave me alone? Damn Stefan to eternal hell for siccing her on me. "Leave it to Beaver. Fifties bored me." Anger curdled his tone. And this time he swung his entire body away from her.
She roughly grabbed him, stopping him in his tracks, and forcibly turned him back around to face her. "Well, it's the seventies now, and that is going to get you caught and killed."
"I'll take my chances!" His voice held a wild animal snarl. For a third time he attempted to leave, but once again she prevented him.
Damon protested, "Look you and Stefan have a thing. I get it. He falls off the wagon. You pick him up." Sarcasm dripped from his tongue. "He gets redeemed . . you get your Florence Nightingale jollies. Well, I'm not him."
Her face hardened as she listened to him.
"And I don't want or need you." He exaggerated his facial gestures to emphasize his contempt.
She stepped up to him, invading his personal space, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Too bad, cause you got me."
He looked to the side incredulously. Why was she doing this?
That night marked the first of a seemingly endless series of nights. She was like a blood hound following him everywhere, never letting him out of her sight. Not every moment was bad. As long as she managed to stay off her soap box they had some good times.
One night they were part of a packed crowd rocking to the music of a new band. Lexi was really into them, pumping the air with her fist, letting out a joyous scream. Damon bobbed along more calmly.
A drunken guy rudely bumped into Lexi, making no attempt to apologize. She wasn't one to let something like that go by, and she immediately pushed him back. "Hey!"
That wasn't enough for Damon. He grabbed him by the lapels and showed fangs and eye veins. The guy practically fell over himself trying to get away. The vampires caught a whiff of piss as he wet himself from fear. Lexi gave Damon a comradely nudge, and they exchanged amused glances, in harmony with each other.
Another night they chose a beautiful black girl to feast on. They had her between them and when they came up from her neck to savor the taste and smell of her blood Lexi's eyes fluttered from the intoxicating sensations. Damon reached over to slowly, sensuously wipe a smear from Lexi's chin. She batted his hand away, shaking her head from side to side in warning. He desisted, holding up one hand in a placating gesture. They held each others' eyes for a moment before returning to feed on the girl's blood.
But no matter how good the moments they shared the nights always ended the same . . with Lexi torturing him. Damon thought he would go nuts. She was relentless, hammering away at him, never giving up. He had to bite his tongue not to scream the truth. He wouldn't admit it to her. Wouldn't give her that power over him. Wouldn't give her that satisfaction.
But every night before he passed out in a drunken stupor that passed for sleep the same thoughts ran through his head. The same refrain over and over again. You're so eager to know why I turned it off. You're the reason. Remember when you talked me out of going with my brother to Egypt? When you made me leave him? When I left without telling him why? When I let him think I didn't care because you said it would be for the best?
It wasn't just about him, Lexi. I needed him. I needed family.
You're wrong that I feel nothing, Lexi. I feel rage. I feel hate.
You left me hollow and empty. My little brother would have kept me stable. Given me a reason to live while I waited to release Katherine. He would have given me purpose. Keeping him on track would have kept me on track. I would have stayed stable for him.
But no . . You butted in. You took over. It was you he had to turn to. You wouldn't let anyone get between you and him. You had to be his savior.
You stole my brother.
You made me feel guilty. Made me feel I would hurt him.
You left me floundering trying to find a purpose for my life.
You left me feeling only emptiness . . .only loneliness.
You stole my brother from me, Lexi.
You took what was mine.
You'll get yours, Lexi.
One day you'll get yours.
He endured it for six months. Six long months, and then he knew she would drive him crazy if he didn't do something about her. So he planned, and finally the night to put an end to it came.
"Tell me about her, " she demanded.
"No!" Damon whined from his position flat on his back, one hand clinging to a half filled liquor bottle.
"What did she look like? What did she sound like?" Lexi started her usual relentless interrogation. By now she did it by rote with almost no inflection in her voice. "Tell me everything you remember about her." She just had to keep it up. "Everything."
Even Billie was disgusted by the endless repetitions. "That's my cue," he said, running his eyes over the bar. He sighed and added as he left, "Have a nice fight. Try not to break anything."
Lexi half turned, raising her bottle in a silent goodbye to the departing vampire.
Damon slowly sat up, complaining, "Every night. Every night we get wasted. The second I bottom out you have to bring up Katherine."
"Because you loved her and love is THE most powerful emotion. If I can just get you to remember how you felt about her." Lexi was so sure of herself.
Damon slammed his liquor bottle down on the counter. "I don't wanna remember her. I mean why do you care so much?" His exasperation bled through his words.
"Do you remember how we first met? It was 1864 Stefan had just killed your father . . made you turn into a vampire, and he was killing his way through Mystic Falls. You hated him." She inhaled, acknowledging, "Rightfully so."
Damon raised his eyebrows in agreement, pursing his lips and nodding, curious to see where she would take this.
"But before you left you asked me to help him because no matter what happened he was still your brother." She walked around to the front of the bar to face him. "And you cared about him." She put her bottle down and Damon pressed his lips together. "Now you need help, and he cares about you. We both do. Let me help you!" she pleaded. "Tell me about Katherine."
"Talking about Katherine is not going to help me." Damon disputed. Now is the time to put my plan into action. He hopped off the bar and once again she was in his way.
"Why not?" she demanded.
"Because she's not a person I care about." He let his eyes soften and roam over her face.
She was taken aback, and she searched his eyes not sure what was happening here. "You flipped." Her eyes were startled. "You flipped the switch. Why didn't you tell me?" She was confused by what she thought was happening here.
"Cause I barely felt it at first. But every night it's got stronger." He carefully controlled his eyes, making it seem like he was drinking in the sight of her.
She swallowed nervously.
"It worked." He filled his voice with wonder and lovingly cupped the sides of her face, pushing her hair back. "You worked."
She was astonished at first and doubtful, but gradually his show of sincerity convinced her, and a pleased smile lit up her face. She reached in to meet his kiss and return it.
They started out tender, but quickly turned up the heat and the passion. He pushed her against the wall, and she met him with enthusiasm. On the bar . . . on the stage . . . and finally, as planned, on the roof. Over and over again he went at it, making sure she was exhausted. He never lost sight of his goal. His eyes popped open long before dawn. He moved cautiously, stealthily using the equipment he had previously stashed for just this occasion.
The painful burning rays of the early morning sun woke her. She rushed to the door leading off the roof, at first confidently trying the handle, only rattling it with increasing force when she found it locked.
"Good Luck!" A falsely cheery sing song voice jeered from the makeshift bed they had made the night before. "I spent all night reinforcing it."
She looked increasing concerned.
"It was tough. I had to be real quiet not to wake you up," he elaborated.
Worried now, trying not to give way to panic, she demanded, "What is this?"
He walked over close to where she hid, using one upraised arm to support his weight against a post, and said one word. "Payment."
"For what?" She still didn't understand why he was doing this.
He pretended to think for a moment. "Ah, for the last six months of my life. For the nagging self righteous platitudes. I'm paying you back for six months of you." His eyes were hard and cruel.
"Your humanity isn't back on." Realization struck her. "Is it?" Her breathing was heavy, the strain, the fear showing.
"Never was," His taunt was cruel.
"So this was all just a . . ." She was truly hurt.
"A joke." He finished the thought for her. He looked up at the sun, smirking and added, "A big fat lie. The best part is you believed it." He was openly laughing at her naivety. He walked in closer to her, but stayed just out of range, mocking, "You thought I was like Stefan."
She looked like an angry cat.
"A wounded little bird you could nurse back to health," he continued, running the back of his hand down her face. She angrily grabbed his hand to remove it.
He closed his fingers around hers. "But he's a victim. I choose to be this way."
He gripped hard, pulling her hand out into the sunlight, enjoying her scream of agony as she burnt. She used her superior strength to yank her hand out of his grasp, panting with pain as he mocked, "Enjoy the day. Hear it's going to be a scorcher."
He vanished, easily jumping off the roof, leaving her there desperately searching for a way out.
He straightened his clothes and spared one last look up at the roof.
You took my little brother from me, Lexi.
You won't take him from me again, Lexi.
This was your last warning.
Come between me and Stefan again, Lexi, and you'll be sorry.
You'll get yours, Lexi.
You'll get yours.
~ FIN ~