Hey, everyone. I totally lied. There aren't any flashbacks in this chapter. I decided against putting flashbacks because the chapter was long enough as it was without them. But I'm pretty sure that the next one will have flashbacks...most likely of Claire and Christopher's wedding. Anyways, sorry for the disruption in my updating schedule too. I just sat down to write some of this chapter and it all kind of came out at once. Hope you enjoy! Review at the end if you can please.

Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)


A Few Good Men

The morning sun was cool on the backpacker as he trekked up the hill in the woods, listening to the sound of the colorful autumn leaves crunch softly at his feet. The backpacker stopped in his steps to look around and soak in the beauty of the nature around him—to listen to the birds chirp and the wind sway the trees. In addition to those sounds, though, there was a crunching sound much like he had made when he walked, which could only mean one thing.

The backpacker jumped upon turning around and finding that there was another man behind him, standing idly by a branch. The backpacker let out a breath realizing that it was just a man, more or less.

"You scared me," the backpacker explained.

Christopher Fell stepped forward and found words in his dry throat. "Do you know what day it is?" he asked.

The backpacker gave a look of confusion and of an obvious nature. "It's Saturday."

Saturday, the vampire repeated in his head. "And what…year?"

Time was nothing when he was trapped in a cave full of vampires. Until he'd had the blood on the wall of the tomb, he had been practically dead.

The backpacker looked like he pitied Christopher. "It's 2010." Christopher's eyes dropped. 2010, his mind repeated. More than a century since 1865, the last year he could name. The backpacker then questioned, "You okay?"

Christopher nodded. "Thank you." But he wasn't okay. He'd spent a hundred years underneath the ground. God knows what'd happened to his wife after he'd been trapped. She was a vampire; that much he was aware of. But what if she had gotten killed after he'd been trapped? All possibilities raced through Christopher's mind—negative possibilities.

"Wait!" the backpacker stopped Christopher as he saw the man was beginning to leave. "What's your name?"

"Christopher, sir."

"How did you get out here?" The backpacker took a step forward. "Why are you dressed like that?"

Christopher looked down at his clothes, staring at the tattered, dusty mess. If the year was 2010, he would be branded suspicious the second he stepped foot into civilization, which was what he needed to do. Christopher's blue eyes looked up at the backpacker, who waited for his answer. Instead, Christopher answered with another question.

"Are you acquainted with a girl named Clarissa?" Christopher asked abruptly, taking the backpacker by surprise. "Clarissa King?"

"Clarissa King?" the backpacker repeated, shaking his head. "Uh, no. I don't know a Clarissa King. Why?"

Christopher realized that this man was a dead end, and if he was to find his long-lost wife, he couldn't do it looking the way he did. "You seem like a kind person," he whispered. "I'm very sorry."

The backpacker shrugged. "Sorry for what?"

But there were no more questions being asked. Christopher lunged forward, his fangs drawn, and he ripped into the backpacker's neck, causing the man to scream. Since they were out in the middle of nowhere, though, no one could hear him. The screams lasted for only a moment before the backpacker's dead body dropped to the ground and Christopher stepped back, savoring the taste of sweet blood.

The sight of the sun startled Christopher, and he squinted at its brightness. Putting the dead body on hold for just a moment, he stumbled back and raised his hand to block the sun from his eyes. As he did so, something gleamed on his hand, catching Christopher's attention. The startled vampire suddenly forgot all about the blinding sun and merely looked down at his pale hand to find his wedding ring was the cause of the gleam. But what he noticed when he brought his hand up to his face was that there was something inside of the band. Something he'd never noticed before.

There were blue gemstones—tiny ones—embedded in the band around his finger. Christopher ran his right hand's long fingers over the ring, feeling the bumps where the gemstones had been placed. But he was sure that his wedding band had been embedded with the smallest diamonds, not blue gemstones. Someone, he realized, had messed with his wedding band long before he'd been trapped under the tomb.

The real question was: why?

Christopher began to take the ring off, twisting it off of his swollen finger so that he could examine it closer. He took a look at the gleaming gemstones clashing with the silver, and a feeling of conflict crashed over him. He needed to find Clarissa as soon as he could. He needed to know if she was still alive, after all these years.

He braced himself to put the ring back on, but instead, the ring slipped out of his grasp and fell to the floor. Christopher bent down to pick it up, but he soon became distracted. The sun was now burning his skin, causing him to cry out in pain and his skin to start growing red and irritated. He was literally being fried due to the sunlight, but it didn't take a scientist to realize that the ring he had dropped was the reason for this change. Desperately, Christopher clawed at the soiled ground and clutched the ring in his hand along with a fistful of dirt. Instantly, the burning sensation on his skin ceased, and he was safe from the wicked sunlight.

Letting the soil sift through his hand, Christopher looked at the ring in amazement. The ring, it protected him from the sun. He was confused beyond doubt, but that didn't stop him from slipping his wedding band onto his ring finger again. He then looked down at the dead backpacker and eyed the backpacker's clothes. What a fashion change the modern world had gone through, he recognized.

After stripping the corpse of its clothes, Christopher left his own rags by the corpse's side and dressed again. The clothes fit, much to his relief, but he was more than uncomfortable in them. Suddenly, there was a sharp ring that sounded loud in his ear. Christopher desperately looked around for the source of the ringing, but he found it was closer to his right ear. He then realized that there was something in the breast pocket of the jacket the backpacker was wearing, and he pulled out whatever it was inside of the pocket. It was a cell phone, not that he knew that. It was merely something foreign to him…something strange. So he ditched the cell phone with a confounded expression and backed away, turning to find any source of civilization he could.


Claire slammed the human against the sidewall of the girl's bathroom stall as she thrust them both into the Grill's bathroom and locked the door. As soon as all precautions had been taken, she turned her attention back to the male human and attacked his lips with absolutely no remorse at all. A sharp pain lined her stomach, but she didn't listen to it. Instead, she clutched the human closer by the collar and continued to kiss him ruthlessly.

When Claire let the man's mouth go so she could trail her lips teasingly across the human's throat, the male shuddered. "And I didn't even have to buy you a drink first."

"Mm," the vampire murmured against the warm flesh of the male human—she was quite certain his name was Avery, but she wasn't absolutely positive. Honestly, it didn't really matter to her. "I'm a very easy girl."

The human nervously laughed. "Yeah. You are."

He forced her head up and kissed her again, his tongue plunging into her mouth and beginning a war that she tried hard not to gain control of. Despite the fact that they were in a girl's bathroom, Avery turned her and urged her forward, his hands shamelessly grabbing her ass in the process. The vampire, all too used to human tricks, made it easy on the both of them and broke their kiss for just a moment so she could get on top of the bathroom counter and fit the human in between her legs so they could resume where they left off. Her legs wound around the human's waist, but it was nothing like a hot and heavy make-out session with a vampire. The human, though enjoyable, was falling behind, so Claire had to do something about it. She tightened her legs and grabbed a fistful of his short, brunette hair, pulling him away from her for a minute.

Avery chuckled. "You like to play rough, don't you?"

Claire gave a wolfish grin. "Oh, you have no idea." Her eyes concentrated on his and she compelled, "Don't fight me. Don't scream. Trust me, we'll both enjoy this."

Avery complied with her demands, never once fighting her as she pulled his lips back to hers and violently kissed the human before her lips moved down to the warm flesh of the man's neck. Without further delay and with help of her compulsion, Claire pierced her fangs into Avery's neck and drank deeply, the thick ropes of sweet, human blood from the vein filling her. She pulled away after a few seconds, sighing in bliss at the way it felt to be drinking from the vein. Blood bags sufficed, but she liked it better when a man was at her mercy.

Just when she was about to seal the deal between her and Avery, there was a knock on the door. Claire ignored it and brought Avery's lips to hers again, kissing him deeper this time to insinuate her intention. His hands traced the curves of her hips with need, but it didn't get much further than that when Claire heard the voice on the other side of the door.

"Claire! It's Elena! I know you're in there. Open up!"

The blonde-haired vampire sighed heavily and pushed Avery away from her before hopping down from the bathroom counter. She wiped her lips free of any excessive blood and turned around to Avery.

"Forget this happened," she compelled, her voice nothing but a grumble, and then she walked over to the door and opened it. Sure enough, Elena was on the outside of the door, watching as the dazed human walked out of the bathroom and out to the rest of the customers in the restaurant. Claire leaned against the Grill's bathroom door. "Yes, Elena?"

"Were you just…?" Elena trailed off. Claire nodded. "Sorry. I thought I saw you go in alone…"

"Don't worry about it. It's kind of a good thing that you stopped me. That guy grabs ass like it's money." Claire made a face and brushed off the back of her jeans before sighing and looking up at her. "But obviously you had a reason for interrupting, so let's hear it."

"I need your help," Elena said, her voice soft and strong. "I promised Stefan I would do this with him, but…I kind of just felt like I needed to do it now and Stefan's handling Damon. I-I don't really want to do this alone."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "What do you need to do?"

Elena led Claire outside to her car and explained that Jenna had found her birth mother and her birth mother's friend. Elena had her birth mother's friend, Trudie Peterson's, address, and she wanted to visit. There was also the slight little detail that Alaric Saltzman, the high school History teacher with a dirty little vampire-hunting secret, was married to an Isobel, and she had died. Elena was worried that her Isobel was the same Isobel as Alaric's, and she didn't want to handle that. Nevertheless, she drove to the address Jenna had given her with Claire in the passenger seat.

"So..." Elena began, trying to beat around the bush. "Are you…okay?"

Claire sighed heavily. "Well…let's see. I partook in a scheme to get the person I hate more than anyone else in the world out of a tomb she wasn't even in, and in the process, I found out that my dead husband is actually a vampire sealed in said tomb and then I left him there to spend the rest of his eternal days starving." The vampire looked over at the human. "I don't know about you, but I'm just peachy."

"You can't blame yourself," Elena tried, speeding past a green light. "There was no way you could've gotten him and yourself out of there."

"Elena, I'm fine," Claire told her, exasperated. "Really. I understand that it wasn't my fault, I just…wish I could've done something."

Elena turned her head for just a second to eye the blonde vampire. "If you were really fine, you wouldn't have been hooking up with my gym teacher in the bathroom."

Claire widened her eyes. "That was your gym teacher?" Elena nodded. A sigh escaped the vampire's lips. "Well, that explains the ass-grabbing. Oh, well. Look, it's complicated, okay? I just learned that I've been committing adultery for around…oh, a hundred and fifty years. The way I see it, I'm already going to hell. Might as well embrace it."

Elena sighed. "Well, I imagine Damon's probably doing the same thing."

Claire shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I haven't talked to him since the night we opened the tomb." Elena opened her mouth, but as she was determined to brush it off, Claire pointed outside her window to the blue house just up the road that matched their target address. "There's the house," she announced.

Elena pulled up to the curb, double-checked the address, and the two slowly made their way onto the porch. Claire was only there for moral support, so when Elena hesitated, Claire just crossed her arms and tilted her head at the door. Upon seeing the gestures that indirectly spelled out the words "stop being a coward" to her, the human knocked on the door with her back stiff. When no one answered after the first two seconds, Elena turned, but she ran straight into Claire, who turned the human around to watch as the door opened. A petite blonde answered the door with a small smile, staring at the two girls on her doorstep.

"Trudie?" Elena asked cautiously, smiling in the slightest. "T-Trudie Peterson?"

"Yes," said the homeowner.

"Um, my name is Elena Gilbert. This is my friend, Claire King. I…wanted to talk to you about Isobel Flemming," she explained, her voice slightly unstable. Trudie just smiled.

"Well, I haven't heard that name in years." Elena nodded slowly. "How do you know her?"

"I think that—um…" Elena brushed a strand of hair out of her face and nervously tried to explain her reasoning for showing up. "Well…" She paused and looked over at Claire, who just gave her an encouraging look. The brunette sighed heavily. "Do you know if she had a baby that she gave up for adoption?" Elena forced out to Trudie.

Upon hearing the question, the blonde human straightened and gasped. "Oh, my God. You're her daughter." Elena stiffened, but Trudie just smiled wide and laughed. "I was just gonna make some tea, would you like some?"

"Sure," Elena agreed.

"Uh…the kitchen's this way." Trudie stepped aside in the threshold for Elena to step through, but her intentions were clear. She didn't invite either Elena or Claire inside, which was heavily suspicious. Nevertheless, before it could become an issue, Claire heard her phone begin to ring in her pocket.

"Claire," Elena started, but the blonde just looked at the screen on her phone. It was Stefan.

Claire sighed and looked up at Elena and Trudie. "Uh…you know what, I've got to take this." She looked over at Elena. "I'll wait for you outside, okay?"

Elena nodded once, confused but nevertheless going with it, and she stepped through the threshold without a problem. Claire immediately answered the phone so that it wasn't sent to voicemail, and while Trudie closed the door, she continued down the porch steps.

"Stefan," Claire said into the phone. "What's up?"

"Hey. Where are you?"

"I'm, uh…I'm out with Elena," Claire confessed, walking over to Elena's car. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Well, it's kind of a long story." Stefan paused. "I was going to tell you earlier, but you didn't come home last night. Are you sure that you're…"

Claire slipped her free hand into her back pocket and scoffed while she paced on the sidewalk. "There's no need to worry about me, Stefan. I'm just dealing. I'm sorry I haven't been so…approachable lately."

"You? Unapproachable? With all the men floating in and out of your room late at night? Not at all…"

A bitter chuckle escaped Claire's lips. "Keep making jokes, Stefan. I happen to remember a solid decade where there were plenty of women floating in and out of your room."

"Let's not relive those days. I just want to make sure you're doing okay." A silence passed before he began again. "Wait a second, you said you were with Elena? Is there something wrong?"

Claire shook her head, despite the fact that Stefan couldn't see. She turned in her pacing. "No. Nothing's wrong. Elena just needed my help with something, that's all. Moral support."

Stefan was silent. "She went to see Trudie, didn't she?"

Claire let out a caught groan. "I know she promised you she'd go with you, but you were busy and I—"

"No, no. You're fine. I'm just worried about her with all this birth mother stuff going around. Not to mention what might've actually happened to Isobel." At this, Claire raised an eyebrow.

"What actually happened to Isobel?"

"That would be something you would know if you came home last night, but I…I think I should wait to tell you in person. I have to tell Elena, too."

Claire frowned. "You know how much I hate Shady Stefan. Spill it."

"I will," Stefan promised. "Once you come home, okay? Now I've got to go. I'll see you later, Claire."

"Stef—" But that was all she managed to get out before Stefan hung up on her and the line went dead. She groaned frustratedly to herself, but realized there was no point in calling him back. Instead, she waited by the edge of Elena's car for the teenager to come out of the house. A few minutes after her phone call with Stefan had ended, Elena came out of the house, practically running. She kept looking behind her in concern, and when she finally reached Claire, the vampire expressed her worry. "What is it?"

"I think Trudie knows about vampires," Elena confessed.

Claire scoffed. "Uh…yeah. She didn't invite us in. That was sign number one."

"Yeah, and then she gave me this tea and…I think it was laced with vervain. No, actually, I…I know it was laced with vervain. What is this supposed to mean, Claire?"

The vampire shrugged. "I…I don't know." Maybe it had something to do with what Stefan needed to tell her. "Let's just get back, okay?"

Elena nodded and walked around the car to the driver's side while Claire held her door open. Before the vampire could get into the car, though, she sensed someone's presence other than her own. Turning her head, she realized that she was right when she caught the gaze of a mysterious man in the middle of the road, staring at them. Elena turned her head, too, upon seeing Claire's distracted face, but as soon as she did, the vampire snapped out of it.

"Come on, Elena," Claire murmured, getting into the passenger side of Elena's car, and Elena hurriedly got into the driver's seat and made off without a hitch.


Christopher wondered the town square, watching as normal, modern people walked by in the town that he felt was foreign to him. He knew it was Mystic Falls by all the signs, but he didn't feel like it was his home. There were buildings and strange vehicles and things he never knew could exist. On top of that, there was the fact that he had only been a vampire for around a day and a half before he was sent to burn in the church with the rest of them, so he was ravenous. He could hear things from a mile away, he could see things sharper than the normal eye, and he had a burning desire in his throat for what he'd tasted from the backpacker—blood.

There were so many things happening around him. Girls talking on these gadgets he was unaware of, kids roaming around carelessly in the middle of the town square, couples holding hands, business partners conversing. It was all quite overwhelming and uncomfortable for the vampire.

Just when he was about to combust from all of the new sights around him, he saw one that was familiar. He'd wished, he'd hoped, the first familiar person he saw was his wife, but instead, he saw two vampires from the tomb sitting on a park bench. He knew the two vampires by name—Harper and Bethanne. So, it wasn't just him who'd gotten out of the tomb? Christopher wasn't aware of how that made himself feel—relieved or terrified—but nevertheless, he turned to find someone he wasn't locked away with for the last century. It wasn't just a wish to find Clarissa now; it was a need. He needed answers, and he knew the only way he'd get them was from Clarissa.


Stefan's room was dead silent as Claire walked into her best friend's room, calling out his name with a sigh.

"Stefan?" She turned her head around the room, exhausted, and then she heard the melodic voice of a dark-haired vampire that certainly wasn't Stefan.

"Better. Me."

Claire whipped around to find Damon walking out of Stefan's bathroom, his sculpted chest perfectly visible to her. His pants rode low on his waist and his hair was a complete ruffled mess on his head; it resembled the way he looked after Claire, or any other woman, really, raked her fingers through it. Damon dragged himself out of the bathroom, a drunken smile over his lips.

"Damon," Claire spoke, her voice cold. "You look—"

"Dashing? Gorgeous? Irresistible?" Damon filled in for her, walking forward so that he was just merely inches from her face. He leaned in on the last word, but she leaned back without so much as a thought.

"Wasted," she finished dully. Damon just rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"No reason why."

"Okay, then." Claire let out a deep sigh and just gave him a reserved smile. "I'm just going to—" She moved back to leave, but Damon spoke before she was able to put her heel onto the ground.

"Do you know I'm one of Mystic Falls' most eligible bachelors?" Damon asked her proudly, giving her a pout and posing "seductively" for her. Claire raised an eyebrow.

"Do they also know that you slaughtered half the town when you came here? Because they should probably reconsider." Damon shrugged again and turned around, walking over to Stefan's full-length mirror by the bed. Claire watched as Damon grabbed the shirt he laid out and fit it over his strong build. She wanted to walk away, but it was too amusing to watch as Damon miserably failed at buttoning the shirt. He turned around, helpless.

"Help a guy out, would you? Can't…get this."

Claire dropped her arms from a crossed position and exasperatedly walked over to him. She knew the game he was trying to play, and she was quite disappointed in herself for playing along. Nevertheless, she spun them both around so that she was facing Damon and he was watching her as her fingers began to lightly brush over the buttons. Neither one of them said a word until Damon broke the ice.

"You've been avoiding me," Damon whispered, leaning closer. Claire just moved to another button. "I take it you're angry?"

"Angry?" Claire repeated, her shoulder rising and falling smoothly. "Now why would I be angry? You lied to me for an entire century Damon. And you even tricked me into sleeping with you! No, if anything, I'm impressed." But her words dripped with sarcasm and bitterness.

Damon held up a finger and tsked. "Now, now. I never tricked you into sleeping with me."

Claire scoffed venomously. "No, you just didn't tell me that my husband was rotting underneath Fell's Church while we were rolling around in your sheets." Her eyes drifted up to his and her hands stilled on a button. "Damon, that's the very definition of a trick."

"Would you really have never slept with me even if I told you Christopher was in that tomb?" Damon practically laughed, but Claire's face didn't change. "Come on, Claire. We both know he was never what you wanted."

Their eyes locked for the faintest moment, but then Claire shook her head. "You're wrong," she said simply.

Damon nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm wrong. That's why you pick a different guy to have sex with every night."

"That's none of your business," Claire muttered as she resumed buttoning his shirt up.

"We both know that it is my business," Damon whispered, but his voice was loud to her considering he was just by her ear. "Just say the word, Claire, and we're back to what we normally do. I can make you forget all about him."

"Just like you want to forget all about Katherine?" Claire shot, leaning back. Damon sighed. "I'm not going to be your pick-me-up, Damon. Not anymore. We're done."

Damon hummed. "You're always sexy when you're angry."

"And you're always unattractive when you're day drunk."

A laugh escaped Damon's intoxicated lips. "You always say this has to stop, but it never does." Only, deep down, he knew that this time was real. He just didn't want to admit it.

She looked up at him, stilling her fingers on her third button, and her gaze caught his. But she was far from flattered or turned on, she was furious. He was taunting her about giving it another go-around when he damn well knew that he had hid the fact that she wasn't a widow, she was still a wife. And he didn't even have enough courage to tell her when the tomb was open. She couldn't help but wonder what she would've done if Anna never told her about Christopher being in there. Despite his rejection, Claire knew that there was a chance she would've forgiven him if she hadn't realized he'd been lying.

But there wasn't a chance. Not anymore.

"Yeah, well, this time I mean it," Claire said sternly and brushed past Damon without caring that she had only gotten through three buttons. Before she could get five steps towards the door, Stefan and Elena approached the threshold. Immediately, Claire sighed, relieved. "There you are, Stefan."

"Hey," Stefan returned, giving Claire a smile as he and Elena walked into the room together. Claire opened her mouth to respond, but instead, Damon groaned behind her.

"Ugh. I need a bigger jacket." As fast as Damon had put Stefan's jacket on, he took it off with distaste. "Wow. You know, an occasional sorority girl might, um, you know…help fill you out a little bit," Damon suggested, gesturing to his chest.

Stefan just gave his brother a tight smile and Damon walked away, continuing to button up his shirt.

"He's perfectly fine, isn't he?" Elena asked in disbelief as she stared after Damon.

"He's Damon," Stefan retorted, turning to his girlfriend with a shrug. Claire scoffed at the sight of Damon's blatant theatrics of helplessness against her, which only made her more furious towards his cause.

"I think this heartache will be wonderful for him, you know? Maybe he'll be so sad for the rest of his life he'll never ever be happy again," the vampire spat.

Stefan sighed. "Oh, I did not miss this," he muttered. Claire's gaze cut to him, and seeing his expression, she sighed heavily.

"I…I wish I could say I'm sorry for saying that about him, but really, I'm not. I'm just sorry that you have to be in the middle of it." Her eyes drifted from Stefan to Elena, and a light bulb immediately went off in her head. "Oh! I almost forgot. You needed to tell me something, didn't you, Stefan? Both me and Elena?"

"He…already told me," Elena confessed. "But, I'll go outside and get the car ready so you two can talk."

Elena left after her announcement, and Claire stared after her. "Are we going somewhere?" she asked, but after a few moments, she realized. "Ah. The fundraiser. I was going to go alone, but…hey, why not?" Claire exhaled. "So, what is it that you needed to tell me?"

"Did Elena tell you about Isobel?" Stefan began, shifting and putting his hands in his pockets. Claire nodded. "Well, it turns out that Isobel actually is Alaric's wife, the one who taught him all he knows about vampire."

"Wait, wasn't she killed by a vampire?" Claire recalled, raising her eyebrows. Stefan just nodded. "Well, do you know who it was?"

Stefan took a large inhale. "Alaric thinks it was Damon."

Claire crossed her arms over her chest and widened her eyes. "Damon was the one who killed Elena's birth mother?" Stefan barely gave another nod, but he didn't have to agree with her. Claire gritted her teeth. "Oh, that sick son of a bitch—!"

"Claire," Stefan stopped her, gripping her arms to keep her from getting out of his room. "Please don't say anything. Not yet. There's so much going on right now, I…I don't think he'll be able to take it if we confront him and it turns out not to be true."

"Why are you walking on eggshells with him, Stefan?" Claire snapped, forcing Stefan's hands off of her. Her tone was so abrasive, but it didn't hurt Stefan, it just made him look at her with pity. "He doesn't deserve to be treated like some fragile doll! He lied to me, and now we know that he killed your girlfriend's mother. I'm done trying to make peace with him!"

"I know, Claire. Believe me, I know. What Damon did to you was wrong, and I completely understand why you want to get back at him." She silenced upon his agreement, watching as Stefan searched her eyes to find some calmness inside. "But you can't use this as an excuse to attack him. As much as he deserves it, he is fragile right now. If we push him the wrong way, he'll turn his humanity off again."

"After everything he's put us through?" Claire whispered, shaking her head. "I know he's your brother, Stefan. I know that. But Damon has done nothing but lie to us and betray us and abandon us over the years. We need to stop protecting him at some point. You need to stop protecting him!"

"You know it's not that simple." Claire sighed, frustrated, but Stefan just shook his head. "Look, you know I would do anything for you. But right now, I need you to do this for me. I need you to hold off on sharpening your pitchfork just yet." The female vampire looked over at the one in front of her, and a smile threatened her lips.

"Fine," Claire agreed unwillingly. "Fine! I will hold off on the pitchfork, but you know I can't hold off my anger for long. I thought avoiding Damon for the last few days would make it go away, but all I can think about is driving a stake through that empty chest cavity of his." Her blue orbs drifted up to capture Stefan's green ones. "You know, I'm starting to lose track of the favors you owe me."

"Well, can you add one more to the list?" Stefan asked hopefully. Claire immediately dropped her faint smile. "I need you to keep this from Elena. Until I know for sure that Damon was the one who killed Isobel, I don't want her to know. Do you think you could take her to the Grill and keep her distracted while I talk to Damon?"

A long, heavy sigh escaped the vampire's lips, but she knew she had no choice. She rubbed her eyes and then dropped her hands to her sides with an exasperated slap. "What are friends for?"


The fundraiser was a huge success for such a small town—nearly all of the desperate, single women in town showed up at the Grill for it. Even some of the married ones showed up, too. Claire was sure she'd even seen a woman with a big, fat diamond engagement ring buying a raffle ticket. It was pathetic, really, but she wasn't in a place to judge. After all, she'd been sleeping with the enemy for over a hundred years and was married while doing so. In hindsight, she was probably the worst offender of them all.

While she was at the bar getting herself a strong drink to hold her over until Stefan arrived, Claire heard her name from behind her. "Claire King?"

She turned around to face an elegant, bright-eyed, smiling woman who looked pleased to meet her acquaintance. Claire slid off the bar stool and gave the sophisticated woman a smile. "Yes."

"I'm Carol Lockwood." Carol stuck out her hand, and Claire took it with just a moment of hesitation until she realized who she was dealing with. Carol Lockwood was obviously the wife of Richard Lockwood, the town's mayor. "Sheriff Forbes told me that you arrived into town a while ago. I apologize for not being able to meet you sooner."

Claire shook her head. "It's no problem at all. Truth is, it's been a hassle getting settled." The bartender finally served Claire her drink, and she took it with a gracious response and turned back to Carol, who chuckled.

"I can imagine. Anyways, I wanted to talk to you about your family's spot on the Founder's Council." Claire took a light sip of her drink, realizing exactly what this little conversation was about. Carol wanted her to join the Council and take Jack's spot. Sure enough, Claire was right on point. "I was hoping you would take over for your family's spot since there are no other Kings living in Mystic Falls. Jack was the only one."

"Mrs. Lockwood—"

"Please," Carol interjected. "Call me Carol."

"Carol," Claire corrected as a courtesy. They began to walk down from the bar and into the crowd of single women. "I would love to take Jack's spot, but I feel like—"

"She's not ready to take over the position so soon." Claire and Carol turned their heads to face their interruption. Damon Salvatore emerged from the crowd and circled the blonde vampire, all the while keeping his eyes locked on the delectable Mrs. Lockwood. Damon pouted. "Grieving over her grandfather has been so hard on her. Hasn't it, Claire?"

Damon's eyes drifted for just a second to look down at her, but then he looked back up at Carol Lockwood with a smile that practically made the grown woman's knees buckle. Claire felt a surge of anger rise within her, and she couldn't stop herself before it was too late.

"Actually, Carol, on second thought, I would be absolutely delighted to join the Council." She gave Carol a warm, inviting smile, conveying her false innocence. Damon's eyes cut to her and watched as Claire just glanced up at him. "I think it'd be the perfect way for me to start moving on. Don't you think, Damon?"

It was a mistake, sure, but it was one she would have to deal with later. Damon's attitude, his actions, and his lies were starting to take its toll on Claire and she was growing relentless. She was beginning to feel like she wanted to do everything in her power to piss Damon off.

"Wonderful," Carol chirped, looking back and forth between the vampires. "I trust Damon can fill you in on everything there is to know. Won't you, Damon?"

Damon hummed underneath his breath and the two vampires looked back at Carol with their blue eyes. "Yes. Of course I will. Later," Damon added and extended a hand to Carol. "But, first, why don't I buy you a drink?"

The lustful Mayor's wife was surprised at first, but didn't object to Damon's charm. He led her away to the bar without another word to the blonde vampire who was left to watch as the two walked away. She wasn't jealous or hurt, she was angry. In fact, she'd never been angrier in her life. Every single fiber in her being wanted to confront Damon about Elena's mother and use it as an excuse to fight him on the issue of what she was really angry about. However, she made a promise to her friend that she would refrain.

It wasn't long before the auctioning started—around drink number three according to Claire. She was standing in the crowd watching a bunch of desperate middle-aged women fawn over the men up on the auctioning block. Carol was introducing each of the bachelors separately, earning applauses and hollers from the sea of women.

"And what do you do bachelor number three?" Carol asked the third bachelor she interviewed for the middle-aged women who ogled over him. The mayor's wife held out the microphone for the bachelor to respond.

"Yeah, I'm a plumber."

"Well, isn't that wonderful? We could always use more plumbers." Scattered laughs rode over the crowd as Carol quickly moved on. "Moving on. Number four, Alaric Saltzman. Wow, that's a mouthful." She laughed, and the crowd copied her sophisticated giggle. "What do you do, Alaric?"

"I'm a teacher at Mystic Falls High," the ruggedly handsome teacher answered, earning an approval from Carol.

"Oh! Beauty and brains, ladies! This one's a keeper! What do you teach?"

"History."

"History? Oh, well give us a fun fact about Mystic Falls? Something…crazy," Carol prompted and put the microphone up to Alaric's lips. As Claire watched from the crowd with a glass of scotch in her hand, she felt Stefan's hand reach out and touch her arm as he came beside her. Claire and Stefan could hear the buzz of Alaric's delayed answer over the speakers as Stefan smiled at Claire and she smiled back, letting him know that she was fine.

After a moment of awkward silence between the crowd, Carol saved Alaric and brought the microphone to her lips. "He's probably saving the best stories for his date." A soft chuckle moved over the crowd as Carol moved on yet again to their last contender. "And last but not least, Damon Salvatore. We don't…have much on you." Carol showed Damon the index cards she'd been looking over.

Claire scoffed. "I can come up with a few crafty words to put on that index card," she murmured to Stefan.

Up on stage, Damon just shrugged. "Well, I'm…tough to fit on a card."

Stefan spotted Elena in the crowd and waved to her, and Elena waved back to him with a soft smile. Beside Stefan, Claire just gagged and drained her drink, passing the empty glass to Stefan, who just cocked an eyebrow at the gesture.

"Well, do you have any hobbies? Like to travel?"

"Oh, yeah!" Damon exclaimed in the microphone. "L.A…New York...Couple years ago, I was in North Carolina, near the Duke campus, actually. I think…I think Alaric went to school there. Didn't you, Ric?" Alaric and Damon turned to each other on stage as Damon rambled on. In the crowd, Claire and Stefan both stiffened. "Yeah, because I…I know your wife did. I had a drink with her once. She was…" Damon scoffed. "She was a great girl. Did I ever tell you that? She was…delicious. Mm."

"Oh…shit," Claire moaned quietly and she and Stefan immediately turned their heads to see Elena, who was slowly coming to the realization. Elena excused herself from the table next to Jenna and the next thing Claire and Stefan knew, they were all outside standing at the back entrance to the Grill.

"Elena," Stefan began as he walked outside, but Elena was frantic.

"He killed her? Damon was the vampire that killed her?" she asked.

Stefan shook his head. "I don't know what happened. Alaric said that they never found the body," he explained.

"But the likelihood of it is that Damon…did kill her," Claire admitted, crossing her arms. "At least, that's what Alaric thinks."

"Oh, my God…" Elena trailed off, trying to let it soak in. "Stefan…"

Stefan immediately tried to console her. "I know. I'm sorry…I wanted to tell you, but I just—I wanted to know more."

"I was feeling sorry for him," Elena admitted, throwing her hands up. "Hoping that this whole Katherine thing would…change him. I was so stupid."

"He doesn't know about the connection to you," Stefan admitted to her. "I thought about confronting him, but he's already so on edge—"

"Ugh!" Claire groaned, throwing her hands up. "I am sick of this mess! Sick of it! Damon Salvatore does not deserve our protection, Stefan, why do you keep giving it to him?"

Stefan turned to her sharply. "Because Elena is not the only one hoping that he can change, Claire!"

A long moment of silence passed before Claire just gave up. "I'm sorry, Stefan. But I seem to be the only one here that actually knows who the real Damon Salvatore is and that he's never going to change!"

She set off to go inside the building, but Elena's call brought her back. "Claire!"

"What?" the vampire snapped, turning around. Elena jerked her head forward and Claire turned hers to the side to see where Elena was staring. Stefan joined in on throwing his glance to where Elena was looking, and on the other side of the street was a man—the man that they saw outside of Trudie's house.

"Who is that, Elena?" Stefan asked, his voice quiet.

"He was outside of Trudie's house this morning," Claire murmured and tore her gaze away from the man across the street. "Elena, get inside. Now."

Elena hurriedly rushed inside, and made straight headway to the bathrooms to avoid seeing Jenna or anyone else in her fragile state. As Claire and Stefan rushed to find Elena to get her out of the Grill, Elena had come out of the bathroom sniffing when Damon blocked her from leaving.

"Whoa! Easy there. Buy a ticket like everyone else," he taunted her, smirking.

"Did you enjoy that?" Elena snapped at him, brushing past his useless innuendo. "Rubbing it in to Alaric Saltzman?"

Damon shrugged. "Well, actually—"

"Just as I was starting to think that there was something redeemable about you," the teenager snarled. It was then that Stefan and Claire interrupted, Stefan coming behind Damon and Elena and saying Elena's name softly.

When Damon saw his brother and his brother's best friend behind him, he knew something was deeply wrong. Claire held up at hand in front of Stefan's face.

"No, Stefan. I've been sitting on this for more than an hour. It's about time Damon realizes what he's done."

Damon sighed. "Am I…missing something, here?"

"Yes, actually, you are," Claire retorted, shrugging. "See, Elena and I went to go see her birth mother's friend today. But when we got home, Stefan told me something pretty interesting." Everything fell drop dead silent as Claire said the words slowly so that Damon could hear every single syllable. "You were the one that killed her."

Again, that same silence loomed, but this time, Damon just laughed. "That's ridiculous. I didn't kill Elena's birth mother."

"Really?" Elena asked from behind Damon, making him turn around. "Oh, right. Claire forgot to mention her name. It was Isobel." Elena watched as Damon's smile dropped from his face immediately and she fought back tears. "Go ahead. Reminisce about how you killed her."

Without waiting for Damon to say anything else, Elena brushed past the dark-haired vampire and began to power-walk outside. Stefan soon went after her after a disappointed glare towards Damon, and Claire and Damon were eventually the only two standing.

Damon sighed. "This…doesn't really help the whole…angry thing, does it?"

She didn't respond. Instead, in a flash of blind rage, her palm collided with Damon's face at a force that stung—even for a vampire. Damon kept his face turned to the side, his cheek stinging red but healing by the second. He held his jaw, basking in the shame that came along with the slap. Claire watched him as his blue gaze cut to her, studying her face as she let out a shaking breath.

Her voice was only but a whisper before she walked away. "That was for Christopher."


Stefan had taken Elena home after the man who had showed up at Trudie's and the Grill had interrogated her about leaving Isobel alone. When she finally agreed to it under Stefan's advisement, the human man threw himself in front of a moving truck and killed himself. Claire was given a full recap on the phone as Stefan took Elena back to her house, but she stayed at the Grill to have one more drink before she left to go back to the boarding house to most likely face Damon. She had learnt that Carol Lockwood won the raffle—not that it was a surprise, it was obviously rigged. And to think, it was the Mayor's wife. How indiscreet.

When she returned back to the house, the first thing Claire did was walk into the study and poured herself a glass of bourbon to keep the buzz still going. Being a vampire had its perks, but the downside of it was that they didn't stay buzzed for long. She desperately needed something to keep her mind off the mind-numbing pain she felt in her chest thinking about the fact that while she argued with Damon, helped Stefan, and saved Elena, she did nothing for herself but find a bunch of willing men and feed on them day and night. It was the only way she could keep herself from breaking apart—to deny it over and over again that the problem just…disappeared.

She could hear the sound of breathing in the study when she took a moment to herself; and though the fire was crackling in the parlor, there was another one lit, too. With her glass of bourbon still in hand, she walked into the study to find a dead body on the floor and Damon on the couch, watching the burning embers of the fire.

Claire sauntered into the room and eyed the dead body on the floor. It was Alaric's, the deadly History teacher with a nasty little secret and vicious vendetta. Her heels stopped right by the teacher's head, and it took only a moment for Damon to respond in a dull, uninterested tone.

"Go ahead," Damon said darkly, taking a sip out of his glass. Claire looked up at him. "Lecture me about what a…bad person I am. I've heard it all before."

Claire pursed her lips, and if he'd asked her to lecture him a few hours ago, she would've jumped at the chance to yell and scream in his face. She would've reveled in the sight of him doing nothing while she jerked him around and kicked and screamed. But now…after slapping him, she realized that it wasn't Damon who was the problem. Yes, she was angry that he lied, but that hole inside of her chest that wouldn't go away wouldn't magically disappear because she lectured Damon. It was useless.

Claire walked over to the couch and sat down beside the vampire. "I'll leave Stefan to that. It's been one hell of a day." A dark silence came over them and, for the longest time, the sound of the fire cracking was the only thing between them until Damon finally broke the ice.

"Katherine told me that we were going to do something…exciting," Damon began, his voice only but a murmur. Neither Claire nor Damon turned to face each other as he spoke. "Naturally, I was interested. When she brought me outside, I thought it would be one of our games for her to kill someone again. Except…well, Pearl and Anna were waiting with a very…weak Christopher." Damon let out a deep breath and took a sip of his bourbon. Claire's eyes glistened over as she stared at the fire over her crossed legs. "Long story short, Katherine turned him and drained some of my blood so he could complete the transition. The next day, I saw him get dragged into the tomb with the rest of the vampires."

"And you never said anything," Claire filled in the part of the story he left out. Damon merely took a sip of his bourbon. "Why?"

Damon scoffed. "The guy never loved you, Claire. It was an arranged marriage."

"That never made it any less real, Damon. We were once in the same situation," she reminded him. Damon's head turned to her and watched her as she slowly turned her head to meet his gaze. "It wasn't your decision to make."

Their eyes were fixated on each other's for a while until Damon tore his gaze away and put his finished bourbon glass on the table beside him. "Well, there's nothing either one of us can do about it now. That tomb is sealed. There's no getting back in it. So if you don't mind, I'd like to put this past us and just get back to…well, being us again."

Claire's eyes lingered on him, watching Damon as he stared at the fire, the reflection in his eyes. She watched his eyes fill with sorrow and hurt, but there was no remorse. There never would be.

Claire sighed and pulled herself up from the couch, Damon's gaze never leaving the fire. She walked around him and placed her half-full bourbon glass on the table next to his drink.

"There was never an 'us', Damon," Claire said softly, her fingers lingering over the top of the bourbon glass. Damon moved his eyes from the fire to her lingering hand before she removed it and left the study, her heels signaling her departure from both him and whatever salvation they had left.


All day, Christopher wandered around Mystic Falls trying to find what he was looking for, but what a long-shot it was that Clarissa was in the same place as he was. He spent the entire day searching, but what he found was that he needed help. Help that he knew existed—that he had seen at the town square. If he was to return to his wife, he needed to find other vampires from the tomb.

A little past the town of Mystic Falls, deep in the woods, Christopher could see a dimly lit house standing alone. He walked up the long pathway to the house and immediately knocked on the door once he reached it. From inside the house, Christopher could see Bethanne, the woman he saw on the bench earlier with Harper, come up to the door and open it for him with a smile.

"Pearl!" she called out over her shoulder while inspecting Christopher. "It's Christopher."

Bethanne walked the other way and in her place, Pearl and Anna came out to greet Christopher, who took in a nervously deep breath. Pearl greeted him with a kind smile, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be with them. He wanted to be with Clarissa, he just didn't know where she was. Pearl was his best chance at finding out.

"I'm glad you found us, Christopher," Pearl welcomed.

Christopher sighed. "Please, Miss Pearl. Do you know where I can find her?"

"All in good time, Mr. Fell. All in good time," Pearl repeated with a smile. "First, why don't we get you inside? You can't be…looking like that when you see your wife for the first time in years, can you?" Pearl asked, looking over Christopher's clothes and darkened mouth stained with blood from earlier in the morning. Christopher looked down at his clothes and Pearl called over her shoulder, "Ms. Gibbons, this gentleman is a friend of mine. May he come in?"

A human woman appeared behind the dark-haired vampire and smiled genuinely. "Any friend of Pearl's is a friend of mine. Please do. Come in," Ms. Gibbons invited. Christopher eyed the threshold of the doorframe he was and easily stepped inside to his relief. Pearl stepped aside for Christopher to come in.

"Annabelle, close the door, please," Pearl instructed her daughter as Christopher crossed the threshold and followed Pearl into the house with Anna closing the door right behind him.