Chapter 2
Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me. Original characters are mine.
A.N. Thank you so much for the reviews and the response to the first chapter. It encourages me to write more. This chapter takes place the day after the disaster with the werewolf pack in the mountains.
ON THE ROAD AGAIN
"Why are we going to Chicago?" Stefan asked as he drove alone the Interstate highway in Tennessee. Traffic was fairly heavy. He was not in a big hurry, so he was in the outside lane, although now and then he passed someone who was going too slow.
He and Klaus had stopped for lunch at a truck stop. Lately, Stefan had been eating a lot of regular food at Klaus' urging, along with the regular feedings of fresh blood. They had eaten at some really nice restaurants on occasion, since Klaus enjoyed it. The functioning of Stefan's digestive system had improved over their weeks together, although he didn't care for the discomfort of over-eating. Nor was he used to having to use a toilet so often. He found it a nuisance.
"I told you. We're going to the 'Windy City' to see someone. I haven't totally given up on the idea of making more hybrids," Klaus said, not looking at Stefan. His head was turned to the side and he was watching the scenery.
"I don't see how anyone else can change the outcome of what happened in that camp. That's going to be in the news all over the place. All those people dead."
"So? I don't believe anyone saw us," Klaus said. As best he could, he had put the werewolf pack disaster behind him. He didn't understand what had gone wrong, but what was done was done.
"Except the ranger at the gate," Stefan pointed out. He did not, of course, mention that Damon, Elena and Alaric had learned of their presence there. That whole episode in the mountains had been a fiasco and Stefan knew it had temporarily damaged Klaus' big ego. He'd been so sure he would succeed. The hybrid's emotional devastation had made Stefan actually feel sorry for Klaus, although Klaus had soon perked up.
"That ranger won't remember us," Klaus assured him, knowing he'd erased the man's memory of them as he was taking the entrance fee. No one had seen them leave in the dark of night. "You worry too much, mate." He reached out and gently punched Stefan's shoulder. When Stefan didn't take his eyes off the road, Klaus looked back out the window. A CD of old Beatles songs played softly and he felt drowsy.
Stefan let his mind wander. He hadn't been to Chicago in a long time. The first time had been in the 1920's. It had been a little wild in those days. Prohibition, speakeasies and plenty of black market liquor. He'd had a sporty automobile back then and several lady friends in their "flapper" dresses. He'd had a one-room apartment, not a fancy place, but a place to sleep and to feed from a lady or two. A place that he had used also in the 1950's and in 1978. The building still stood and was owned by the Salvatore Trust because he had insisted they buy it. Hidden in the room was his "wall of shame."
Much of what he had done in Chicago in the 1920's was foggy in his mind. He thought he must have consumed way too much bootleg liquor, because he had no real memory of some of the time he had spent there, especially the few weeks just before he left. Surely he had had more friends than he remembered, but he couldn't recall them now.
As he drove along, a vaguely familiar feeling came to him. His vision went out of focus and then back again. He thought the car swerved and yet he hadn't turned the wheel. He turned it to try to straighten up and in a moment realized he was on the road's shoulder. He brought the car back to the lane as fear gripped him. It couldn't be the vertigo! The witch was dead!
"What the hell was that? Something in the road?" Klaus asked, alarmed.
"Klaus! It's the vertigo!" Stefan exclaimed as the world tipped. "Take the wheel! I don't know which way to go."
"Damn it! Let go. I got it. Take your foot off the gas. We're speeding up! Take your foot off the gas, Stefan! That's it."
"We're rolling over!" Stefan cried, his arms reaching frantically for support.
"No! We're all right. We're all right. We're slowing down on the shoulder. Put your foot on the brake. No! On the brake, Stefan! That's it. Damn! Are you sure it's the same feeling?"
"It is! I'm gonna puke," Stefan said and he opened the driver's door. He fumbled with his seat belt release and then hung out a bit just as the car came to a stop. Other drivers sped by, honking their horns, as he vomited the lunch he had eaten.
Klaus had shifted the gears into neutral until the car stopped and then he put it in park. He watched Stefan for a moment, and then got out of the car and searched for any suspicious vehicle that might have slowed or stopped. Was it possible another witch was following them? A car did stop. It was a Highway Patrol car that pulled onto the shoulder behind them.
Klaus swore under his breath. Just what they needed! He waved to the cop and walked toward the car, putting himself between the officer and the license plate, just in case he was checking it. He watched the officer get out of the car and approach him.
"What seems to be the trouble?" the man asked.
"My buddy got sick. He's been driving and all of sudden he felt dizzy and nauseous," Klaus explained. "And I thought someone threw something at us from that bridge back there." He hoped that explained why he was out of the car and looking around.
The officer walked over to the open driver's door and looked at Stefan, who was vomiting again, moaning and swaying back and forth. He had a death grip on the door frame and the steering wheel.
Stefan felt terrible and then all of a sudden the vertigo was gone. He sat up and leaned his head back against the head rest. Klaus was at the other open door.
"Do you feel better?" he asked. "Has it passed?"
"Yes. It seems to have passed," Stefan said, wiping his lips and chin with a tissue. He looked up at the officer. "I feel better. It came on so fast. I think my friend better drive for a while."
"Sounds like a good idea. Has this happened before?" the officer asked.
"No," Stefan lied.
"Did you see someone throw anything off the bridge back there?"
"Ah…no. I didn't. But I think I was concentrating on driving and trying not to vomit in the car. I guess lunch didn't agree with me."
It was a couple of minutes before the officer let them go, apparently satisfied that Stefan had been ill because of something he had eaten. There were no bottles or cans of alcoholic drinks in the car, no marijuana smoke. Klaus even thanked the officer for stopping to help them if they had needed it. Back in the car with Klaus driving, Stefan said, "I don't understand this. You killed that witch, so who's out there doing this to me?" His stomach still churned, but it was from fear, not nausea.
"I don't know, but it's someone who has to be following us, tracking us."
"How? I wish we could have questioned the witch instead of you killing her," Stefan said, glancing at Klaus.
"It couldn't be helped."
"I know. Who the hell is out there now?"
"Who knows, love? How do you feel?"
"Right now, fine. Well, almost fine. A little headache. No vertigo. Just like before, it stopped so suddenly. But it was different this time. No ringing in my ears, for instance."
"It has to be a different witch. The person was either on that bridge back there or in a car that drove right by us. There's an exit up ahead. I'm going off there. There's a fifty-fifty chance that the other car did, too. Okay?"
"I don't see why he'd do that. You can keep going, Klaus. Whoa! On second thought, I'm getting cramps now. Better take the exit." He pressed a hand against his rumbling abdomen.
They were lucky in that there was a convenient gas station with a rest room. While Stefan used the facilities, Klaus kept watch for any suspicious cars. He saw nothing that caught his attention and he was glad to see Stefan come from the building at a steady walk. And then Stefan collapsed on the ground. Again, Klaus' eyes swept the area. There were six cars parked close by, a few driving on the secondary road and many crossing the overpass.
As he hurried over to Stefan, he told the dozen people gathering around that Stefan had seizures and he would be all right.
"I just called 911," a man said.
"Call them back. He'll be all right in a few minutes," Klaus told him and the man obeyed. Kneeling beside the writhing, retching Stefan, Klaus' eyes sought the eyes of each person there. He found himself staring at a tall black man who had an odd expression on his face, one of concentration. When he saw Klaus looking at him, his face took on a faint smile. Almost instantly, Stefan rolled onto his back and lay still, his moaning ceasing, his eyes closed.
The black man, along with a white man, turned and moved toward a nearby car. Klaus didn't move unnaturally fast, but he hurried after the men. In a low voice he asked the black man what he was up to. Why was he following them and hurting Stefan?
The man grinned and said, "I have no idea what you mean. Your buddy seems to have a problem. I wouldn't let him drive if I was you." He got into the passenger seat of the car while the other man went around to the driver's side. Klaus wanted to grab one of them, but other people were watching him closely. He didn't want anyone phoning for law enforcement because of a fight. He wanted to compel the black man, but he would not look at him for more than a second and Klaus could feel the resistance of both men to being compelled. Vervain? He was sure the black man was a witch.
"I'm warning you," he whispered coldly. "Do not do this again. You most certainly will regret it."
The black man grinned, glanced at him and rolled his eyes as the other man started the car. In a moment, Klaus was left glaring after them.
He turned back to where Stefan still lay on the ground. Why hadn't he stood up yet? Three people were still standing around him, with a fourth hunkered down beside him, speaking kindly to him. This fourth person stood when Klaus drew near.
"All right, folks. Stefan will be okay. Please be kind enough to go back to your business and let him recover," Klaus said calmly. He then squatted down on the oily pavement beside his friend, who had an arm over his eyes.
"How do you feel now?" he asked.
"No vertigo. I'm a little shaky," Stefan muttered. He sat up when Klaus took his
arm. "Damn it! I can't believe this." He couldn't say much with a few people still standing around watching.
"I know. The whole thing is frustrating," Klaus said.
"Look at my clothes. What a mess," Stefan muttered. His clothes were soiled, not only because he had vomited a little, but also because he had been lying in the oil and grease dripped from cars. In addition, he had several scrapes on his skin from thrashing about on the pavement. "Damn. I almost shit my pants. I don't know," Stefan whispered.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. Get clean clothes out of the trunk and go back in the restroom and clean up."
Stefan got to his feet where he tottered unsteadily just for a moment. He had a mild headache. He felt Klaus take his arm to steady him and they walked to the back of the car. Trying to look like he did this every day, he fished clean clothes out of his bag and headed back to the restroom to change.
Once they were in the car again with Klaus driving, Stefan fussed, "You know, I wouldn't be vomiting so much if you didn't insist I eat so much food. And I wouldn't get cramps like that."
"Don't whine. You enjoy the food. I know you do," Klaus said with his usual amused smile.
"I like the taste, and then I eat too much," Stefan admitted.
"I don't think the cramps you had were from the food."
"You think that bastard made me cramp? Why? So we'd pull off at that gas station?"
"I do think so. I think he wanted me to see him. The brazen bastard is taunting us. I couldn't do anything with all those people watching and I sensed that neither of those men could be easily compelled. I'm sure the black guy is the witch."
"The question is, is the witch on his own and why, or is he working for someone?" Stefan mused worriedly. "What'd I ever do to have someone set witches on me?"
"You kill people, my friend. There are a few people who know that. Like your brother."
"He wouldn't do this. I know he probably hates my guts, but this isn't his style."
"You never told me what you did to make him back off tracking us," Klaus reminded him.
Because his anger at Damon had cooled, he now felt somewhat guilty for causing Andie Starr's death. She'd been a nice lady. Stefan also found it incredible that, even after Andie's death and the warning Stefan had given, Damon had still showed up tracking him in the mountains. And with Elena! Did Damon have no common sense?
"I killed his girlfriend. I caused her death right in front of him," he told Klaus.
"Way to go, Stefan! I'm proud of you," Klaus said with an actual chuckle. "Now, if we just knew how that witch is tracking us."
Klaus continued to do the driving because they didn't trust Stefan not to have another attack. Neither of them was convinced that the witch had really been frightened off by Klaus' threat. To make sure there was no tracking device attached to their car, they traded for another car the next day. Nothing more happened as they continued on to Chicago.
A.N. How is the witch tracking them and will he strike again? Can he find them in Chicago?
