Mystic Falls, Virginia
By the time Damon had reached the "Welcome to Mystic Falls" table, the sun was already beginning to set. He rubbed his eyes in a drowsy fashion, all the stress of two days past tugging at the back of his mind. Up until now, he hadn't allowed himself to think about what he was getting into. Damon thought of the weekend he'd promised to his beloved Katerina, of the painting of her which he was making as an anniversary gift to her, of the scenery, of virtually anything that had nothing to do with the place he was heading to.
Aside from an occasional driver or biker, the streets were painfully empty, allowing Damon to drive at a painfully slow pace; barely resisting the urge to turn around and run as fast as he could. He felt like he was in a time machine. The town was the same as it had been when he'd left. Spotless. Fake. Every bit the limited, airtight box he'd hated for the better part of his life.
Damon shuddered and slammed his foot on the gas pedal, forcing the somber thoughts out of his head. He'd driven to the Salvatore Boarding House on autopilot; barely acknowledging anything else he might have passed by on his way. For a moment he just sat in the driveway, not quite sure what to do. The uncomfortable feeling he'd had since receiving that fateful phone call, of something bad looming over his happiness, had increased tenfold and he for a moment he'd seriously pondered turning back and pretending this never happened. –Here goes nothing…– He sighed heavily and scrambled out of the car, ignoring the protest of his legs at having to support him again after the long drive from New York City.
He approached the heavy front door, reminiscent of a castle, reaching for the doorknob. Halfway to it, he changed his mind and decided to knock instead. After what seemed like a century, the door opened, revealing a dark-skinned old lady inside the house. However, her face lit up the second she looked up at Damon.
–Ruth! – Despite himself, Damon smiled in recognition of the woman who'd loved him like her own.
–Oh, my boy… – She cried, hugging herself to Damon, who didn't wait in returning the hug. –Come on in, come on. – Ruth ushered, happy to see her beloved protégée again.
Damon stepped inside warily, chills creeping over him as he looked over the ample living room.
–Another thing that hadn't changed. – He thought to himself. The same fireplace cracking on the wall opposite the window, the same old dusty carpet on the floor, the same cushioned sofa and a pair of armchairs scattered across. A defeated-looking teenager sitting on one of them.
–Hello, Stefan. – Damon addressed his younger brother. Not surprisingly, no answer came back; the boy just stared through him.
In the meanwhile, in New York, Katerina fidgeted nervously awaiting response from the gray-haired, Alzheimer-lad lady next to her.
–Здравейте, бабo. – Katerina spoke in Bulgarian, deciding that she had better chances if she used her grandma's mother tongue. – Tова съм аз. Катерина? – She offered.
–Katerina is a beautiful name. – The lady spoke in English, her voice raspy and faint. She reached her hand to caress Katerina's face. –My granddaughter's name is Katerina. –
Katerina smiled sadly, trying to not be disappointed. She knew that her chances were slim at best. She blinked away her tears, covering grandma's hand with her own.
–Did her mother get the money? – The lady inquired, looking almost scared. –Will she remain silent? –
Katerina furrowed her brow in confusion. She knew that it'd probably be for the best to let the lady know that she's got the wrong person, but some feeling from the inside urged her to play along.
–Whose mother, Grozdo? – Her curiosity prevailed and she addressed the lady by her first name, assuming whatever role the old woman had assigned her.
–Katerina's, бонбонче. – Grozda all but laughed, as if she'd heard something immensely stupid.
Katerina frowned, not understanding anything –My mother? What did my mother need to receive money for? More importantly, what was she to stay silent about? – She thought to herself, cautiously planning her next question. –За какво? – She decided finally, hoping that Grozda would catch on.
–Have you gone silly, за Бога Светланo! – Grozda hissed. –We don't want the girl coming to claim her when she's done growing up, do we now? Pay her and make sure she's silent, за Бога! – She all but yelled at Katerina.
Katerina gasped in realization. –She thinks I'm my mother… Then what is she talking about? – She flinched as an idea came to her mind.
However, her notion of continuing the discussion was interrupted by her grandmother's nurse. –Mrs. Salvatore? – She called. Katerina looked up. –She's getting agitated again, it happens rather often these days. I'll have to give her a sedative. It might be for the best if you return some other day. –
Katerina stood up gingerly, feeling as if she'd been hit in the gut. –Um, okay… It's okay, I was leaving anyway… Um, thank you. Goodbye. – She mumbled incoherently, suddenly lacking the air to breathe.
Back in Mystic Falls, Damon had finally retreated to his father's study after shrugging off Ruth's seventeenth attempt at making him eat and deciding he can't spend the evening sitting with Stefan in silence. While waiting for Ruth and the other woman to prepare his bedroom, he'd made arrangements for tomorrow with his father's attorney. The reading would be held the first thing in the morning, and hopefully he could make it back home by this time tomorrow. He smiled remembering his home and the beautiful woman waiting there for him.
–Oh, shit. – Damon cursed recalling his promise to call her. He took the phone and dialed the number, surprised to get redirected to voice mail.
–Hey, honey. I arrived. And kind of forgot to call you… Sorry! It's not that bad… I guess... Um, anyway, the reading is tomorrow morning. I might head back immediately, if I feel up to it. Now, though, I'm dead. Call me when you hear. G'night. I love you. –
After leaving the message, Damon hung up and turned the phone off without thinking. Realizing what he'd done, he couldn't help the smile that sprawled across his face in acknowledgement of his wife's influence over him. Exhausted, he made his way to the bedroom he once used to occupy, falling into dreamless slumber the moment his head hit the pillow.
It was already well after dark when Katerina finally reached her apartment. Her feet were killing her from all the aimless walking she'd done in an attempt to clear her head. She smiled vaguely at the thought that Damon, ever-protective, would kill her if he knew she was out alone this late.
–Oh, crap. Damon. – She slapped her own forehead, remembering that this very morning she'd asked him to give her a call when he arrives. Her phone was still off in her bag, as she was too shocked by the conversation she'd had with her grandmother to bother turning it on. Sure enough, there was one missed call and one message from Damon. She tugged guiltily at her hair as she waited for the message to play.
–Hey, honey. I arrived. And kind of forgot to call you… Sorry! It's not that bad… I guess... Um, anyway, the reading is tomorrow morning. I might head back immediately, if I feel up to it. Now, though, I'm dead. Call me when you hear. G'night. I love you. – She listened to the message, relaxing to the tone of his voice.
After listening to the message, she hovered her thumb over the redial key for a while, unsure whether to call at this hour. Deciding they probably both need it, she hit the key only to get redirected to voicemail.
–Hey honey. It's me… I'm glad you're okay. I went to visit my grandma and forgot about the phone, sorry. She told me the craziest thing. You'll laugh. Call me when you get up. Love you too. –
She smirked, taking small victory in seeing Damon adopt her habit of turning the phone off before bed. Thinking about him, her smirk grew into a full smile. Damon would tell her that she's overreacting and that Grozda probably had no idea what she was saying and to whom. She pulled the comforter over her head, laughing tiredly at herself for getting so worked up over the old lady's hallucinations.
