Damon slouched back on the couch and examined the amber liquid in his glass, not bothering to hide his yawn as his eyes strayed to the two of them. He watched as they tried desperately to bring Elena back to life.
It was ridiculous how much energy they were expending on the act. The kid had his sweater pressed against her stomach, trying to staunch the gaping wound he'd left in her chest, as Stefan used CPR on her heart.
"I'm going to get an ambulance," the brat said, fumbling in his pocket.
In a blink, Damon was out of his chair and had Jeremy's cell snatched from his hand. He crushed it. "The next thing is your skull, if you're not careful," he said flatly.
Stefan looked up at him, Damon could see his control fray at the edges. "Now is not the time. Elena is dying--"
"Elena's dead, Stefan," Damon corrected him. "All of this is just...window dressing."
The expression on Stefan's face bordered on hatred. "He missed Elena's heart. If we can start it, even for a few moments, I may be able to feed her some of my blood."
"Relax, brother, already taken care of," Damon said, lifting his glass in salute. "She'll be vamped up before you know it. All we have to do is prepare a little snack for her." He looked at the Jeremy meaningfully. He paled.
"You turned her?" he asked hoarsely.
"I presume you don't have a problem with that, or you'd have shoved that pointy piece of wood into my chest, instead," Damon said. "Probably for the best, actually. It's more interesting this way. I doubt your darling sister would have stepped into the path of a stake in order to save my skin." He felt a moment of resentfulness at the truth of his own statement, but then shrugged it off. In a few hours, Elena would awaken, and the game would be irrevocably changed. Life in Mystic Falls was looking up.
Why?" Stefan asked. "Why did you give her your blood? What game are you playing?"
Damon rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, little brother. What did you expect me to do after your little demonstration last night? Did you actually think I was going to take you at your word when you told me you had everything under control? Like that was going to happen."
"Since when do you care about keeping Elena alive? It wasn't that long ago you wanted her dead."
"Well, technically she's now undead, well, partially undead - soon to be totally dead if you don't get off your ass and do something useful like fetch her lunch. Nothing too fattening, and a non smoker would probably be preferred. All those pesky new senses will be working in overdrive," Damon said.
"I don't believe this is happening," said Jeremy.
"Believe it, kid," Damon said. "Because you're the one who is going to have to come up with a viable story explaining Elena's absence."
"What were you thinking?" Stefan said slowly, as he turned his gaze to Jeremy. "Why did you try to kill me?"
"Oh please," Damon snorted, "Even I can figure that out, and I barely know the kid. You staked his girlfriend, remember? As revenge plans go, it's pretty solid; poetic, even, staking the staker. I heartily approve – get it? Heartily?"
Stefan gave him a long look, before turning to Jeremy. "Vicky had turned into a monster, Jeremy, she had to die." The kid's eyes narrowed. Obviously, he could also see the flaw in Stefan's logic. He was beginning to like the kid.
"Then so are you," Jeremy pointed out."And I don't see you putting a stake through your own chest."
"So you thought you'd do it for me?" Stefan said lowly, and Damon heard the menace lurking there. Well, well, well, baby bro was angry.
Damon rolled his eyes. "Well, if you two aren't going to act like adults--" In a flash, he had Elena's limp form in his arms. She felt surprisingly light, and Damon felt something unfamiliar, something like regret. He squashed it ruthlessly. The alternative was a dead Elena, not really an option.
"What do you think you're doing?" Stefan asked, jumping to his feet.
"The sun is still up and she's going to wake soon," Damon said, as he looked at Jeremy. "She's going to need fresh clothes, toiletries...I'm sure you can figure out the rest."
The kid swallowed. "Yeah," he said quietly.
"How did you find out, anyway?" Damon asked casually.
His eyes flickered up. "Elena's journal."
"Figures; the Gilberts always had a thing for journals," Damon said, with a bark of laughter. "I'm sure it was entertaining reading. Bring that with you, too. No need to leave it lounging around for anyone to find it. There might be consequences."
Damon watched Jeremy beat a retreat to the door – as if being outdoors would save him from becoming dead, if he wished to kill him – before turning to Stefan. "We're going to need the witch's cookbook again. Find the witch and get it," he said.
Stephan folded his arms and glowered. "Why would I do that?"
"Because we're going to need it if we don't want Elena stuck in in the dark for the rest of her unnatural life," he said. "She'll need a ring, and Emily was the only one who knew how to create one. She left details in her book. I remember seeing it when I was looking for a way to get into the tomb."
"You do it. I'll take care of Elena. She's my girlfriend, or have you forgotten that part."
"Oh, I haven't forgotten," Damon said. "But, you're the one with an invite into the witch's house, not me - and, quite frankly, my blood, my rules. I'm not going to let you mess this one up, like the last time with Vicki. No more, oh, you have to make a choice, the right choice, the moral choice. Don't do it, don't become a monster, like me." Damon looked at him coolly. "This isn't Sunday school, Stefan, and I'm not going to let you convince Elena into committing suicide just because you have issues with your own nature."
"This isn't over, Damon," Stefan said. "I don't know what you think you're going to gain from all this, but you're not going to get it."
"Whatever," Damon said, as he headed for the stairs. He heard the front door slam as he reached the landing, and smirked. It was funny how things worked out. A few days ago, Stefan wouldn't have backed down so easily, but that was before he'd reacquired the taste for human blood. Damon recognised the signs of hunger. The dilated eyes, the darkening of the skin around the eyes...Elena's blood had got to him, and he didn't want to admit it to anyone, least of all himself. Hence the hasty retreat.
And while the overly protective boyfriend was away, Damon was going to have a bit of fun.
Ignoring Stefan's room, and then the several guest rooms, he headed for his own room. He draped Elena on the bed and looked down at her ruined t-shirt. Well, that would have to go, for starters. He tore it off and removed her bloodied bra, and high balled them both into the waste basket before examining her skin. The wound had already closed over, and she was cooling. It would only be a matter of moments before she awoke.
He rose from the bed, got a wet cloth from the bathroom, and then wiped away the drying blood on her skin. After a moment's thought, he covered her with a throw, before sitting on the bed beside her. He tried to formulate a plan to feed her, and went through his options. Bagged blood might work for a first feeding, but he wasn't about to risk Elena's life on might. The Gilbert kid might volunteer it, if Damon agreed to be present and not let Elena go too far. He definitely felt guilty enough, and he didn't seem to equate Vampirism with monsterhood, which was interesting in itself. He wondered if Jeremy knew about Anna. He'd lay odds that he did.
He'd love to feed John Gilbert to her, but his veins were probably swimming with vervain...Bonnie? A little magic with a side order of blood? They were friends, weren't they? Damon's mouth twisted. He wasn't sure if Emily's descendant would be happy at Elena's change of species.
She moaned under her breath, shifting slightly, and his hand automatically went to move a stray hair that had fallen onto her face. Her eyes fluttered open.
"My head..." she murmured.
"Welcome back," Damon said.
Her body tensed. "Oh God, Jeremy!" Her hand flew to her stomach, her eyes widening as she realised she was half naked under the light blanket. "I'm healed."
"You're back from the Dead," he corrected her.
The words obviously hadn't registered yet, because she scowled as she looked around the room. "Where's Jeremy?" she demanded. "So help me, if you've hurt him--"
"Relax, I sent him to your place to get you some fresh clothes," Damon said.
She glanced around the room. "Where's Stefan."
"Getting your little witchy friend," Damon drawled. "We need a new ring."
"I don't..." her words trailed off as realisation struck. "Oh God, no."
"Oh, I think you'll find that's a yes, actually," Damon said. "Welcome to the undead, Elena." His smile widened. It's gonna be a blast.
TBC
