The Mystic

Written by: Adventure-Seeking-Juliet

When: I should have been doing school work and college scholarship essays. You're welcome. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to TVD. I am only a hopeless romantic dawdling in the depressing world that is ruled by Julie Plec.

A/N It seems that very few people think they'll enjoy this fic before reading it; however, based on those who have reviewed, the story is better than they had thought it would be...which I'm going to take as a compliment. I hope more and more people will continue to review...mainly because I think that, for the most part, this is a pretty well-written fic. Review? :D


The Mystic

Damon was knocking back his third glass of cheap, highly unsatisfactory, bourbon when someone stabbed a knife through his hand. The pain was dulled by the abundance of alcohol flowing through his system, but something about the wooden knife cutting through his flesh, really annoyed him.

"If you lay one cold, dead hand on Elena, I'll make sure the next one pierces your heart."

The man attempting to intimidate him looked slightly older than Damon appeared, but his eyes portrayed a type of paternal overprotectiveness Damon had never had the chance to feel for himself.

Damon offered him a cold smile," You're going to stake me with a butter knife? Really? Is that the best you can do? "He yanked the utensil out of his hand, and in a flash, was standing over the man with the tip of the bloody knife scraping his throat," Let's get one thing straight, Mr. Saltzman ," Damon whispered," You might be Elena's guardian, but I'm the only one here who can protect her from my deranged brother. Back off, or I'll be forced to shove this knife through your hand, and trust me, you won't heal as well as I did."

Damon released Saltzman roughly, letting the knife clatter to the floor. With his trademark smirk, he returned to his seat to finish his bourbon. He downed the contents of his glass in one greedy gulp, and then casually strolled out the door, whistling the tune of his new favorite song.

The night was turning out to be just as fun as he'd thought it would be.


Elena leaned down to put her heels back on, but suddenly felt a soft breeze hit her face. With a quiet gulp, she looked up at her attacker...and it wasn't Damon.

"You."

Rebekah smiled," Yes, me." Her teeth elongated...and a mass of red veins pulsed under her eyes. In a flash, she had clamped down on Elena's jugular, with no intention of letting go.

Elena struggled against her assailant, but Rebekah's grip was like iron, and Elena's feeble attempts to escape only seemed to excite the original.

After a few seconds, Elena's muscles started to give out. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her hands, which had been clamped to Rebekah's shoulders, fell limply to her sides.

Just as Rebekah was preparing to drain the last drops of Elena's blood, the sound of hurried footsteps caught her attention. She couldn't be caught killing Klaus's special doppelganger, so with an annoyed huff, she released the girl.

Elena's unconscious body toppled over, sprawling across the sidewalk. Rebekah smiled at her handiwork. If she survived, Elena would never be able to get the blood stains out of her pretty little white dress.

Rebekah casually wiped the blood from her face. It wouldn't really matter, anyway. One way or another, Elena Gilbert would be dead by the end of the night. With one last cruel smile, Rebekah flashed away.

Her boyfriend would be expecting her.


The smell of fresh blood was heavy in the air...and Damon Salvatore was certainly no stranger to the smell of death, but this time, the circumstances were different.

It was Elena Gilbert.

As soon as he'd smelled the blood, panic had seized Damon's chest. His heart, which typically only registered a few beats per minute, was racing.

He had vamp-sped through the streets, searching for his brother's sort-of girlfriend, but when he found her, his panicked heart nearly burst from his chest. The sensation was so strange, Damon couldn't identify it.

Elena was lying on the ground, limp and bleeding, but Damon was at her side in minutes.

"Elena?" He whispered, his thumb stroking her still-warm cheek. When she made no answer, Damon dropped his hand to her throat. Her pulse was still thrumming behind her pale skin, but it was faint.

Without a second of hesitation, he bit into his own wrist. He pulled Elena into his arms and pressed his wound to her mouth, gently tipping her head back so he could be sure his blood would heal her quickly.

The wound had healed before she'd taken enough, but as Damon brought his wrist back to his mouth, her eyes fluttered open.

She blinked a few times, looking confused, before her eyes landed on him," Damon?"

"Shhh," He replied, offering her his wrist again.

Elena shook her head," Damon, no..." Her voice was weak, but her body was weaker still. She could hardly lift her arm to push his wrist away.

"If you don't drink, you'll die," Damon replied, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Elena shook her head again, more forcefully," I'm fine."

"Like hell you're fine," Damon snapped," Don't be stupid."

"I'll be stupid if I feel like it," Elena muttered, defiantly. Unfortunately for her, the effect was ruined by her weak, strained voice.

Damon rolled his eyes," Drink willingly or I'll force it down your throat. The choice is yours."

With a breathy sigh, she nodded her consent. Damon silently offered his wrist again, and with a slightly disgusted look, Elena latched onto it, drinking until her own wound had healed.

Still, despite Damon's blood, her attempts to stand failed.

"You lost a lot of blood," Damon said, as he scooped her up in his arms," What happened?"

"I was attacked," Elena answered, cuddling into the warmth of his body despite herself," By one of Stefan's new friends."

Damon frowned," Blondie?"

Elena nodded," I...I don't understand, Damon. Why would she attack me? I didn't do anything to her. I left her and Stefan alone-"

Damon shrugged," She was just jealous of your dress. You know how blondes are. They're not the thickest books on the vampire shelf."

"I'm being serious, Damon."

He sighed," I don't know why she would attack you, but I'm going to find out. I promise."

Elena was silent for a moment.

"I guess it wasn't such a good idea for me to walk alone, was it?"

Damon smirked," I'd hate to say 'I told you so,' but, I told you so."


Jeremy Gilbert had always been a little too curious about the supernatural, but he just couldn't stop himself from seeking out The Mystic's new "fortune teller."

She had swept into town quietly, and according to Caroline, she was running from a group of mobsters from New Orleans, but Jeremy had learned not to trust Caroline's gossip.

His interest had been piqued though, so once he'd ditched Matt at the bar, he found himself creeping down the dark stairs leading to the old cellar. According to everyone he'd spoken to, the fortune teller lived there, reading palms and tarot cards for anyone who happened to stumble upon on her temporary home.

Though the stairs were unlit, the bottom hall was bathed in an eerie red light. It flickered ominously as Jeremy moved toward the door, but the door remained wide open.

He knocked softly on the wall next to the doorway, not wanting to barge in. His aunt would never let him hear the end of it if she thought he was acting "ungentlemanly."

"Jeremy Gilbert."

The voice was soft and feminine, but Jeremy felt a shiver go up his spine.

He slowly entered the room, searching for the fortune teller," Hello? How do you know my name?"

The girl laughed," It's my job to know things."

Jeremy spun around, surprised when he saw a young woman standing in the doorway. How had she snuck up on him?

She smiled, her eyes sparkling like two golden flames in the red light," I'm Bonnie. You've been looking for me?"

Jeremy could only stare at her, open mouthed," But- when they said fortune teller, I didn't expect-"

"Someone this young?" Bonnie offered.

Jeremy shook his head, blushing," I wasn't expecting someone so...beautiful."

The fortune teller, Bonnie, looked equally disturbed, amused, and pleased at his words, but all she said was," Did you expect me to be green with a big wart on my nose?"

Jeremy laughed, a bit awkwardly, at his own ignorance," Not really, no..."

Bonnie ignored his awkwardness," Well then. Why don't you take a seat, Mr. Gilbert."

Jeremy did as he was bid, choosing a seat in the middle of the room. Though the chair was only made of old and tarnished wood, the woven blankets and pillows Bonnie had decorated it with gave it an otherworldly flair.

The chair faced a small, circular table, which was decorated similarly. In fact, the more Jeremy looked around, the more foreign the room looked. Charms hung in all of the nooks and crannies, ancient books were stacked against the wall, and the room was filled with dozens of candles, all emitting a soft red glow.

Bonnie took the seat opposite him, so that they were separated by the table. Despite the fact she intimidated him, Jeremy almost wished she'd sat closer, but he was smart enough to know he shouldn't voice his thoughts.

"So..uh...how does this whole thing work?" He asked, anxiously loosening the tie around his throat. It suddenly felt tight.

Bonnie smiled," You'll give me your hand, and I'll focus on you. In most cases, I receive a vision...or a feeling, but I can't exactly control what I see."

"So, no creepy cards? Or crystals balls? What kind of fortune teller are you?" Jeremy quipped, his lips stretching into a small smile.

Bonnie frowned," I'm not a fortune teller. I'm a witch. If you want crystal balls and fake card readings, I suggest you look elsewhere-"

"No!" Jeremy shouted.

Bonnie raised a suspicious brow, " Why are you here, Mr. Gilbert?"

"I-" Jeremy blushed, stumbling over his words," I guess I want you to hold my hand."

Bonnie laughed, and to Jeremy's relief, relaxed back into her chair," Alright then, hand it over."

The moment Bonnie touched his hand, all of the candle flames leapt, and their unnatural red glow intensified. To Jeremy, the room appeared to be bathed in blood.

She jerked away from his touch, eyes wild and terrified," You need to leave."

Jeremy shot up from his seat, nearly upturning a candle in the process," Why? What did you see?"

Bonnie remained silent, staring at him with wide, accusing eyes.

"Bonnie. Tell me what you saw."

"Death. I saw death, Jeremy."


Damon had gotten Elena home safely, but no matter how many he times he tried to convince himself to leave, he couldn't.

His mind kept flitting back to that horrible moment when he'd seen her pale and bloodless, dying on the sidewalk. If he wouldn't have shown up, Elena would be cold and rotting, and for some reason, that thought petrified him.

So, he sat in her window seat, watching her snuggle into her bed, with her sheets tucked up to her chin, and her teddy bear curled up under her arm.

She tossed and turned, but Damon knew she wasn't really asleep.

Finally, perhaps an hour later, Elena flipped onto her side, propping her head up on her pillows, so that she could face him," I want to thank you, Damon. If it wasn't for you-"

"No thanks necessary," He replied, intentionally cutting her off. Neither of them needed to be reminded of what had almost happened," I was just doing my civic duty and all that. Rescuing a damsel-in-distress."

He winked at her, but Elena only rolled her eyes," You are definitely not the shining knight I expected to come to my rescue...but you saved my life. Thank you."

Damon considered a few snarky remarks, but in the end, he held his tongue.

"You're welcome, Elena."

She was silent for a moment, contemplative, but whatever she wanted to ask him seemed to weigh on her until she finally cleared her throat and said," I know you want to stay here all night...to make sure I'm safe, but Rebekah and Klaus haven't been invited inside, I'll be fine."

Damon sighed," I can't just leave you here-"

"Damon please," Her voice cracked, and to Damon's surprise, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears," Talk to him. He won't listen to me, but maybe..."

Damon was by her side in a moment, catching her tears on his fingertips before they could slide down her cheeks," Hey, no tears, okay? I'll talk to him, but do not go to the door under any circumstances. I don't care if it's Santa Claus with a sack full of cute, stuffed bears. Do not let anyone inside the house."

She nodded," I won't."

"Good," He stood up," I'll be back soon."

He was just about to exit via the window, when Elena said," You know, you're not nearly as bad as you make yourself out to be."

He smirked," Don't let the word get out. I can't have you ruining my reputation."

She gave him a reproachful look," Damon-"

"Go to sleep, Elena."


Despite Damon's insistence that Elena go to sleep, she found herself staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Damon Salvatore had saved her life. Damon Salvatore, as in the brother Stefan called an inhuman monster...a killer...

Even Damon seemed to think he was something evil, but Elena could see past that. Evil people don't catch a silly girl's tears when they're crying...or rescue them from bitchy vampzillas.

Damon was a better person than he pretended to be. She just had to show him.

Elena was pondering just how to do that, when the window flew open.

She sat up, startled," Damon?"

"No."

The voice was cold and calculated, devoid of all love, but Elena could still recognize it.

"Stefan? What are you doing here?" She climbed out of bed, straining to see in the dark room," Did Damon find you?"

Stefan shook his head," No, I need to help you."

"Help me-what are you talking about?"

Stefan reached out an arm and grabbed her, harder than necessary but not hard enough to leave a bruise," You smell like him. Damon fed you his blood." He didn't sound jealous. He sounded almost...relieved, but the veins under his eyes leapt to life anyway, flickering in the semi-darkness of her room.

Elena stared up at Stefan, horrified," Yes, because your girlfriend almost killed me, Stefan."

Her voice sounded a lot stronger than she felt, and for that, she was grateful.

"I know," Stefan said, casually," but it's better that way. Death is the only way to save you, Elena."

She tried to wrench free, but Stefan only pulled her closer.

"I'm sorry, Elena."

She thought he was going to bite her, but instead he wrapped his hands around her throat...gently caressing her skin.

And, with one deft movement, snapped her neck.


A/N So, some of the character motivations might seem odd, but that's only because a lot of the backstory leading up to their choices haven't been explored yet...but it will definitely come into play soon. Also, keep in mind that these characters, although they are the same as their actual TVD counterparts, haven't been through the same circumstances. They react differently.

Just a few notes...all of the chapter titles are named after famous songs of the time period, so if you're curious, just hop over to YouTube and look them up. :)

(And, I'd like to apologize to all of the Klaroline fans. I had to cut the klaroline scene out of this chapter, but you'll be seeing more of that relationship in the next installment. Promise.)