Chapter 7

"Wait!"

Sylvia ran as fast as she could, her feet pounding against the pavement. It didn't matter. She wasn't going anywhere. Like a treadmill, the sidewalk moved beneath her, keeping her in a stationary position despite the burn of muscles telling her brain that she should be going forward.

Damon was running away from her. Why was he running away?

"Come back! DAMON!"

He didn't turn. She knew he could hear her. Why wouldn't he just turn around?

"Damon, please! Wait!"

She pumped her legs harder, faster, but she still made no headway. She opened her mouth to yell for him again, but her toe caught on something and she went down – hard. Gasping as her body slammed into the pavement, she looked down towards her feet to see what had tripped her up.

It was Damon.

She froze in shock. What? He had just been running…she lifted her head and scanned the path in front of her. He was no where to be seen. Quickly, she came to her senses and crawled over to him. His skin was dried out and sunken in, causing his veins to bulge out, a distorted shade of blue. No. No, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't be…

Tears formed in her eyes and then spilled over, rolling down her cheeks and splashing to the sidewalk in waves of pain and sorrow. She had just gotten him back, he couldn't die now… Tentatively, she reached a hand out to cup his cheek. He felt cold, colder than normal. The tears fell faster, a choking sob escaping from her throat as she slid her hands down his chest to the stake that rose from his heart. With a firm grip, Sylvia pulled. It took a lot more strength than she anticipated, and her stomach roiled as she felt the wood slide out of the vital organs it had punctured, but she removed it and threw it to the side.

The sobs now wracked her body and she threw herself down on top of his still form. Crying into his shirt, his blood slowly soaking through her own. "Damon…Damon…" she whimpered.

Then he moved.

Her body jerked in surprise, but she held on, afraid to pull away lest she discover it had only been her own breath that had tricked her mind into thinking his chest had risen. But, no. With her ear flat against his chest as it was, she heard the slow 'lub-lub' of a beating heart.

"What's the matter, love? Is something wrong?"

She wrenched her head up and gazed into the face beneath her that was no longer Damon's.

It was Klaus.

Sylvia's eyes searched his face in confusion and panic. Gone was the pallid face of death. The stake was no where to be found. The blood had disappeared entirely – her hands, her shirt, completely clean. Damon was gone.

Klaus smiled.

"What? Where's –"

His words came out silky smooth, like velvet sliding across polished marble, "Oh, Damon? I wouldn't bother myself worrying with him if I were you." Klaus pulled her down to him, pressing their bodies together in an intimate manner. She struggled against his arms, but she was no match for his strength.

"Stop! Where is he? What did you do?"

"Relax. I didn't do anything, love. See for yourself." He pointed off to the right. She turned and nearly cried out – her voice obstructed by emotion in her throat. Damon was lying in a bed…with Elena. Though they were both under the sheets, their body movements made it all too clear what they were doing.

"No…" she whispered, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces.

"Look at me." Sylvia couldn't ignore the command in Klaus' voice. Slowly, she turned her face back to his, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks in torrents. "You don't need him." His voice was tender and he reached one hand up to gently brush away the tears with his thumb. The sounds of fervent love-making lessened; Damon's voice faded away to nothing. "Look at me," he said again, and her eyes bored down into Klaus' as they brightened to the tell-tale gold of a hybrid; but this time, she wasn't afraid. His hand moved to the back of her head and he pulled her down, her body unresisting.

"That's my girl…" He whispered as their lips touched and heat blossomed throughout her body.

Sylvia jerked awake so hard she hit her head on the door.

"Ow! What the hell?!"

She looked around wildly, her mind rebelling against the dream-turned-nightmare-turned…something. Her hair brushed against her shoulders as she shook her head fervently back and forth, trying to erase the images like her mind was some kind of Etch-a-Sketch. A low chuckle brushed against her ears and she turned. Klaus was sitting across the seat from her, one ankle resting across the knee of his other leg, his chin in his hand, and delight in his eyes.

Against her will, her body heated from the core outward as the feelings of the end of the twisted dream resurfaced. No. Furious at the mental intrusion, she narrowed her eyes at her captor. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Who do you think you are?!" Rage was more than evident.

"Just having a bit of fun. This trip is rather boring, to tell the truth."

The complete selfishness of vampires was really starting to get to her. What was it about them that made them think they were so superior to humans that they could just toy with them in any way they chose to? "I'm not here as your play thing, Klaus, so find some other form of entertainment," she bit out, her hands fisted in her lap with anger and embarrassment. There were things in her mind she didn't want to be shared, moments in time that were hers alone. There was no way to know if Klaus had seen them, and she certainly wasn't going to ask in case he hadn't but decided after he questioning that he'd like to. This trip was turning into a huge pain in the ass. She had been put to sleep by a hybrid, woken up still in the car, her hair was probably tangled all over the place, and to top it all off she still hadn't eaten anything.

Klaus laughed as her stomach growled audibly. Well, wasn't that just fantastic. She scowled and turned away from him. She'd rather look out the window at the trees flying by, even if it was evidence that she was going farther and farther away from Damon, than look at that hybrid's face. What a complete jerk. As if prying into her head and viewing the innermost, hidden thoughts there wasn't enough, he had to actually change her dream into something perverted. She quashed all thought of how nice it had been to kiss him. It wasn't even really him, just the version of himself that he projected into her mind. He probably wasn't even a good kisser. He probably smelled like dog.

"Are you going to pretend you didn't enjoy that?"

She studiously ignored him. She had given herself over to Klaus to save her friends and the man she loved, even if he was a complete ass, but that was all. If he needed her blood, so be it; she wasn't afraid of needles or pain. But that was all she would give him. He was one of the oldest vampires in existence. It wasn't safe to get comfortable around him. Who knew what he would do from one moment to the next? She couldn't stop him from getting into her head when she slept, or from using compulsion, but that didn't mean he would have an ounce of her when she was in full control of herself.

"Look at me."

His words echoed the dream perfectly, and she knew he did it on purpose. She closed her eyes tightly and continued to ignore him. She could do this. Damon had taught her to be strong at a time when she felt anything but. He may be conflicted now, and he may treat her like a blood bag, but she knew he wasn't really like that…not with her...not anymore.

"Sylvia, love. I said look at me."

Klaus' voice had dropped in pitch to a dangerously low level. With a small sigh, she opened her eyes. It might be best to just go along with what he wanted, within reason. If she antagonized him too much, he might just compel her to do whatever he said. She'd heard horror stories, from Damon of course, about vampires doing that. It sent horrible chills down her spine to think of it. How awful it must be to have no control over your life. Then again, maybe she would know that feeling soon enough. Klaus might not ever let her go. Resigning herself to that possible fate, she turned and regarded him carefully. He didn't necessarily look mad, but vampires were masters at schooling their features into nothingness. His sculpted mouth and jaw were set firmly, almost like he was disappointed in her. His eyes were staring straight into hers, and the danger of compulsion flitted through her mind once again, though she knew there was no sense worrying about something she couldn't really control.

"Better. Now that I have your undivided attention, where would you like to eat?"

Sylvia blinked, momentarily taken aback. She actually had a choice in this? Huh. With a small shift of her body, she looked out the front window at the road before them. They were still on the interstate. The signs flashing by listed the hotels nearby, gas stations, and fast food restaurants. A small smile grew on her face at the image of Klaus, an immortal hybrid, eating at a place like McDonald's or Wendy's.

She settled back into her seat, her arms crossed over her chest. "I don't really care. Wherever I can get a burger is fine."

"Ah, a burger does sound good, doesn't it?" He promptly leaned forward to tap his driver on the shoulder, conferring directions to him and he pulled onto the off ramp. As they circled around through a drive-thru of a little burger joint, Sylvia turned her thoughts inward. Would Damon try to rescue her? If Klaus was being honest at the Salvatore house, then any hint of pursuit and she would be hurt. Maybe Damon just wouldn't risk it. She felt a small stab of pain at the thought, but quickly pushed it away. There was no reason to entertain the thought that he would. He might have stood in front of her at the first sign of danger in his home, but that didn't change how he had acted towards her before that. She knew her aunt wouldn't bother trying to save her. She was obviously detached from her humanity; she hadn't even bothered to pretend to be on her side when Klaus showed up with his hybrids. Life was so uncertain.

What would happen to her apartment and all of her things if she never came back? She supposed they'd just be taken and thrown away, sold, or donated somewhere. Harold! Her teeth worried at her lower lip at the thought of her poor kitty having to fend for himself. Maybe she could somehow get a message to Damon to pick him up? And it looked like she'd never get that album recorded. Well, at least if she was living with Klaus and following him around in search of werewolves she wouldn't have to worry about having money for anything. He was obviously wealthy enough to do whatever he wanted.

"Something bothering you?"

Her eyes flickered over to his at his question. "Do you honestly care or are you just trying to make conversation?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why is it that every time you try to ask a simple question women have to read too much in to it? I heard you sigh and thought I'd ask if something was wrong." He paused as the food was passed through the drive-thru window and back to them. "So, what is it?"

The aroma of greasy burgers assaulted her nostrils as he handed her one of the bags. "I was just thinking about all the loose ends at home."

"Your music?"

"Partly, yeah. I was working on a new album when Damon waltzed back into my life. That, and my apartment is going to be empty, and my cat is going to have to fend for himself outside." She sighed and pulled a French fry out of the small carton.

"All your things will be taken care of." And then he took a bite of his burger. Oddly enough, it didn't look as weird as she thought. Where she had first imagined him only eating in fine restaurants where each meal had its own set of silverware and the variety of wine was never-ending, he actually looked quite at home with a burger in his hand, like he was just an average guy. It was…humanizing.

Not good. Not good. Not good.

Ignoring her fluttering stomach, she peeled the wrapper off her own meal and dug in, her thoughts drifting back to Mystic Falls and Damon as well as forwards into the mountains where they were headed in search of werewolves. As the car pulled back onto the interstate, she cut her eyes over to Klaus who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. She wondered if she would ever get to see Damon again and what, exactly, her life was going to be like now. What was in her future?


"For the love of all that is holy will you please turn that off?"

Damon ignored the whines of Elena in the backseat. She had been restless since they left Mystic Falls. Each mile that brought them closer to her brother only served to make her more anxious and ready to bolt. Damon was over it and Stefan, too, by the looks of it. So far she had complained about the music choice, the speed, the traffic, that she was sitting in the back, that she was hungry, that she needed blood, that she was stuck in a car with the two of them, and about a thousand other things. Not once had she said one word about her own niece, a thought that still irritated Damon to no end.

"What is this, anyway?"

Damon sighed as Stefan reached forward and switched off the stereo system.

"It's called music, Elena," Damon groaned. "Just shut up already."

"I'll shut up when we find someone to eat. I'm tired of sitting in this car and I'm hungry. We've been on the road, stuck in traffic, for hours."

Traffic had been hellish, but they were nearing New York City – and Jeremy's apartment.

"I'm serious. If we don't stop somewhere to grab a bite, I'm going to lose it."

Damon looked sideways at his brother. If he was being honest with himself, he could use a little blood, too, but he didn't know if Stefan needed to be around while he and Elena both fed. Stefan nodded slightly, indicating he was alright with it and so Damon took the next exit. It was late afternoon, and a little too daylight-y for his taste, so he drove around looking for a more shady area where it would be much less likely for them to be seen. He spotted a gas station directly down the road and headed over to it. It wasn't sanitary, exactly, but everyone had to get gas and the busier it was, the more options.

He pulled up to the pump and scouted the cars. A woman in her mid-forties with a van full of kids, a trucker with a gut hanging over his belt and a cap on backwards, a boy who looked about thirteen inside at the counter trying to buy cigarettes…ah. Perfect. Just as Elena was climbing out of the car, a small, four-door sedan pulled in carrying two girls in their early twenties. Those were usually the easiest to lure away from anyone else, their minds – so eager to fit in to what society wanted of them – were easily malleable and extremely vulnerable to compulsion. He bobbed his head in their direction and Elena met his gaze with a nod. Together, they walked towards the car while Stefan got out and began to pump the gas.

"Hey! Excuse me!" Elena called out to the girls, laying on a thick Southern accent. "We're a little lost. Could ya'll help us out?"

Without even hesitating for a second, one said, "Sure! Where are you headed?"

Damon followed Elena up to the car, smiling brightly at the other girl who couldn't keep her eyes off of him. He leaned down close to her, capturing her eyes with his, effortlessly pushing his influence from his mind to hers and said, "If you come around to the side of the building with us, we'll show you. Don't worry. You'll be perfectly safe with us and be right back in your car in no time."

She smiled, the poor vapid girl, and immediately walked off to where the shadow of the building hid them from view. It took just a second for him to lower the wall of self-control just a fraction and let the bloodlust come flying through. The surge of power and need flowed through his veins, seeking the substance that gave him life. He felt the vessels right above his cheekbones swell just enough to make them visible and he knew the whites of his eyes would be completely red: a monster's face. His fangs extended and he nearly sighed. It didn't matter how many times he fed, it was always a near-orgasmic experience, a brief slake in the eternal thirst that haunted him.

The girl didn't even blink at the transformation, so tight was his control over her mind. He only paused for a second to check that Elena was sufficiently hidden and wasn't going to kill the other, before he allowed the full vampire in him to take over, sinking his teeth into the girl's neck, puncturing the main vein, and letting the blood flow to him. Subconsciously, he counted her heartbeats, checking her pulse, keeping her alive. When he felt it slowing down, he stopped and pulled back carefully, keeping his face blood-free. It was a technique not many vampires cared to learn. Then, as was his custom, he bit into his own wrist and fed the girl just a little of his own blood to heal her wounds.

He grasped her by the shoulders, again looking into her eyes, compelling her to do as he said, "Now, I want you to get back in your car with your friend, drive to another gas station, and get whatever you needed there. Okay?" She nodded and he released her, watching as she joined her friend in the car and sped away.

Elena heaved a contented sigh as she walked by his side back to the car where Stefan waited not too patiently. "That's much better."

Damon rolled his eyes. "I'm so glad. Does that mean you're going to quit complaining now?"

She playfully elbowed him in the ribs and he stepped out of her range. When she looked sharply up at him, he boldly held her gaze, narrowing his eyes, searching for some shred of humanity left in hers and coming up decidedly short.

"What is your problem with me?" she asked, her tone more than a little pissy.

He shook his head as he opened the driver-side door and situated himself behind the wheel. "You honestly don't know?"

She made a 'hmph' sound as he pulled back onto the interstate, speeding them along towards the 'Big Apple.'

"I know it has something to do with Sylvia."

"Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner! Stefan, tell her what she's won!"

Silence.

Damon looked over at his brother, a frown passing briefly across his face, gone before anyone could see it. He knew that smelling the blood would get to Stefan, yet he had done it anyway. He had tried to teach his brother control. When Elena faded away into the darker side of vampirism, he had done all he could to help his brother out, a difficult feat since Stefan still hated Damon for "taking her away" from him. As if he had done it all on purpose.

For a time, he thought it was working out okay. The cravings were always going to be there, that was a part of it, but Stefan was finally able to feed, heal, and erase without going into full on Ripper mode and tearing the bodies into pieces. They had, with the help of Caroline, Tyler, and several other vampire/hybrids, gotten the entire town off vervain and compelled all the more suspicious people to ignore the fact that they were never aging. Again, a rather difficult feat, but the people of Mystic Falls were apt to believe in the strange and there, truly, weren't that many full-time residents.

Life was surprisingly good. With Elena gone, the Salvatore brothers had finally been able to grow close once again. The Original family, what was left of them anyway, left them alone. There were no ghosts. No angry vampires trying to kill them. No werewolves or hybrids intent on poisoning them. It was easy, simple.

And Damon had been incredibly bored.

It was when they were leaving for a rather impromptu trip to Europe that everything had gone downhill. They had secured a couple of Tyler's friends to watch over the boarding house while they were gone, just as a precaution. Their bags were packed and they were about to leave for the airport when, out of absolutely nowhere, Stefan had snapped. He had ripped out the hybrids' hearts and fled with no word of where he was going or why. And Damon, per usual, had to clean up his brother's mess. When he had finally caught up with him, Stefan had killed three humans, ripped their bodies to pieces and then tried to put them all together again like some sick Humpty Dumpty tale gone vampire. All that work, all that time spent working with him - all of it went to waste.

That's when he had gone to Richmond.

He tore his thoughts away from that place. If he thought of Sylvia too much, the guilt began to eat away at him. And Damon did not do guilt.

He had tried to convince Stefan that he was his own biggest enemy and continuously torturing himself with his diet was going to be a losing battle no matter which way it went. It always was. Now, he was apparently back to no-human blood again, but Damon wasn't going to tiptoe around him anymore. It didn't work then and it wouldn't work now. Stefan was going to have to get over himself and solve his own problems for once.

"Damon, if you're interested in my niece, just say so. It's not like I'm going to care."

Dammit. He didn't want to talk about Sylvia until they found Jeremy. Guess that wasn't going to happen. "That's just the thing, Elena," he said between his teeth. "You don't care. You didn't tell her you weren't really dead. You didn't tell her about Klaus or the hybrids. You never once checked up on her in over a decade. You don't care. You've flipped the switch." He shrugged, ending the conversation.

"Just because I've 'flipped the switch' as you put it, doesn't mean I don't care about my own family." Her tone turned serious and, when Damon looked at her in the rearview mirror he saw that she was looking intently at Stefan, her eyes undeniably sad. "You understand. Don't you, Stefan?"

"Elena, just…don't."

She scooted forward so her head was between the two front seats. "Don't what, Stefan?"

"Don't talk to me like you understand me and don't pretend that you care about me. I'm done with your games and your lies." Stefan turned his head and looked Elena dead in the eye, his expression blank of everything. "I don't know what happened to you, but the Elena I knew, the Elena I loved," he paused, his eyes flicking rapidly between hers, "is gone." He straightened back up in his seat and looked determinedly out his window, his posture saying he was done talking and being a part of the group. Fantastic. That was all Damon needed: Elena and Stefan to fight and make each other get all emotional and depressed or angry and spiteful. Drama between vampires never ended in a pleasant manner.

He watched through the mirror as Elena's eyes widened in shock before she shoved herself back onto the seat and looked mutinously at her surroundings. With an audible sigh, he merged over into the fast lane and pressed the pedal down harder. The quicker they got to New York – the better.


A/N: I know this was kind of a filler chapter, and I apologize, but I had some dialogue I wanted to have between the characters here. The next one will be much more active. :) Thanks for reading, you awesome and fantastic people, you! Review, please, and let me know what you think so far!

-Running