Author's Note: Thank you all so much for all of your wonderful reviews! I am so sorry I haven't had a chance to get back to everyone yet, but please know that your reviews are read and are hugely appreciated, and I WILL get back to you! I am so glad you are all enjoying this story so much... Thank you!
"All right. I've got water bottles packed with my favorite blood-bank blood, courtesy of Damon," Caroline began, triumphantly holding up the water bottles.
"You're welcome," Damon drawled, flipping another page of his book without looking up.
"My iPad stored with the latest episodes of Gossip Girl," she continued, holding it up and then sticking it into the backpack. "A couple of blankets to keep warm…" She rolled them up and stuffed them in the bag. "And… A change of clothes for Tyler." She held up a separate backpack and turned to the others. "Am I forgetting anything?"
"Your brain?" Damon asked, finally setting down the book to look up at her.
Elena's heart sank as they all turned to him. He stood from the couch, full of nervous energy. He looked better than he had in the last couple of weeks since he'd been bitten, his pale skin milky white, his body radiating energy and life. He didn't tire as easily as he had before, and his tongue was sharp, caustic remarks falling easily from his lips as they always had.
The bright smile died slightly from Caroline's perky, happy face. "What?" she returned.
Damon was scowling. "In case you've forgotten, a werewolf bite can kill a vampire. And you're going to go hang out in the crypt with him, leaving yourself to be the first course."
"I could get a Kevlar jacket," Caroline offered, then paused thoughtfully and looked around the room. "Do you think that would work?"
Damon let out a sound of irritation, just as the front door opened. Alaric appeared at the entrance to the living room, looking sore. He made a face at Damon.
"I hate you," he told Damon flatly.
Damon flashed a grin. He turned to Elena. "Ready for a stroll in the woods?" he asked.
She drew back, startled. "Where are we going?"
He shot a look over at Caroline. "Since Perky McSugar-Rush over there seems to want to get herself killed keeping a werewolf," he turned to Caroline, deliberately enunciating his words, "who won't even remember," Caroline made a face at him even as he turned back to Elena, "company while he goes all vampire- hunter on us, Ric and I thought it would be best to reinforce his cage."
"You did?" Tyler asked, looking surprised.
Damon flashed a mocking smile at him. "Yeah, well, can't have you running around town, terrorizing… us, can we?"
Alaric waved his hands at all of them. "Come on," he ordered, sounding exhausted. "I just hauled steel beams the size of my head and bags of cement that weigh more than I do into my truck, and we've still got to get all this set up before tonight."
As the group trudged outside, Elena held back a few steps, holding onto Damon's sleeve. He swung around, a surprised look on his face.
When they were alone in the room, Elena met his bright blue eyes. "Thank you," she said sincerely, hoping he understood everything in her words—everything she was truly thanking him for. He wasn't just shutting Tyler in to save them from him. He was shutting Tyler in to protect Caroline—to allow her to be close to him when he was at his most dangerous to her. Despite Damon's feelings on werewolves, and everything he had gone through, he was still going to help them.
Damon cupped her face in his hand, a brief, faint touch. Her heart fluttered, skipping into her throat. "Yeah, well," he murmured, his eyes gazing into hers, "can't have him running around stalking us during every full moon."
He released her, stepping away, as if realizing what he was doing. Her breath caught, mourning the contact before she could stop herself. "Let's go," he instructed, gesturing to the door.
She nodded, unable to speak, and led the way out of the house. They climbed into Damon's car, following the others caravanning to the Lockwood estate.
The next few hours were filled with dirt, grime, a lot of digging, and holding steel beams steady while the guys poured and secured cement.
"Are you sure this will dry in time?" Caroline asked nervously, eyeing the wet cement.
"The guy promised it would dry in a few hours," Alaric reassured her.
Caroline still looked unsure, but she nodded, going back to helping Jeremy and Bonnie secure another set of chains to the walls.
Elena was carefully balancing a beam against her shoulder while Damon poured cement and Alaric smoothed it out when a loud, horrific clatter echoed throughout the room. They all jumped, the beam on Elena's shoulder giving a few inches. She braced herself for the impact, looking up when it never came. Damon stood in front of her, holding the beam with one hand. She looked up at him gratefully, even as she turned around to look at the mess behind her.
"What happened?" she asked, surveying the large chunk of stone and fallen chain from the wall. Caroline had Jeremy and Bonnie pressed against the wall opposite wall, safe from the path of damage, but all three looked shaken.
"I was tugging on it to make sure it was secure," Caroline stammered. "It wasn't."
"That's fantastic," Damon snapped. "Now we're down one chain with a few hours to go." He quickly scanned the room, pointing at an open spot. "Hook another one up there." He made a face at Caroline. "And make this one secure?"
Caroline made a face at him. Elena looked down at the rubble of crushed stone, relieved no one had been hurt, and turned back to Damon, who righted the beam and went back to pouring cement. They were at it for another minute when they heard Jeremy's voice.
"Hey," he said, sounding surprised. "There's something in here."
They all turned back, watching as Jeremy reached his arm into the hole Caroline had made in the stone, where the chains had been. He emerged with a large, worn, leather-bound journal.
"Let me see that," Tyler ordered, stalking toward him quickly. He snatched the journal from Jeremy's hand, opening it quickly. He scanned the pages as Caroline peered over his shoulder, the room silent as they all waited in curious, stunned anticipation.
"What… is this?" Caroline asked, her breath halted.
"Why did everyone have a journal in this town?" Damon demanded, sounding irritated.
"What's it say?" Elena asked, her heart skipping in nervousness.
"It… it…" Caroline suddenly pulled the journal from Tyler, who protested even as she brought it to Damon. Caroline's blue eyes were unusually large and unsteady. "I think it's your mother's."
Elena watched as Damon's look of annoyance faded into astonishment. He hesitated, standing slowly and taking the proffered book almost hesitantly. They were all silent as he slowly flipped it open, scanning the first page. Elena's breath caught in her throat as she stared at his face for any sign of what he was feeling about the words on the page, watching as he suddenly flipped several pages, about a quarter of the way in.
And then he read scanned a few of the lines and looked up in stunned, horrified disgust and disbelief. "You've got to be kidding," he declared.
"What's it say?" Elena asked.
He wordlessly held the book out to her. Her hands shook as she took the book, the carefully scripted writing elegant on the yellowed pages. "How can it be true that my sons, my dear Damon and Stefan, are cursed to follow the same path as the originals themselves?"
There were shifts of horror around the room. "What does that mean?" Caroline asked, her voice tinged with horror. "You and Stefan are cursed? Like the originals?"
Damon glared at her. "Do I look like I know? You just found it!"
"But why would your mother's journal be here, in my family's slave quarters?" Tyler asked, looking around the room in bewilderment.
Damon sneered at him. "You tell me. Check your slave registry."
Tyler gaped at him. Damon gestured around the room, a look of annoyance heavy on his face. "We can worry about that later," he snapped. "Right now, we have to get this place finished before we all get eaten and don't need to worry about what this means anymore."
They slowly got back to work, more silently than they had before. Elena slid the journal into her bag, keeping it on her shoulder for the rest of the day. It was a grueling few hours, but when it was done, the reinforced gate and extra chains looked like something not even Superman would be able to break through. Damon and Caroline had both tried, individually and then together, and neither had been able to make a dent.
They bid Caroline and Tyler quiet goodbyes, trudging home in silence. The journal in Elena's bag seemed to burn.
After her shower, Elena changed quickly, heading back into the living room. Damon was sitting on the couch by himself, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand as he stared at the fire. She slowly held out the journal to him, sinking down beside him on the couch.
He glanced down at the journal in her hand, then back up at the fire. In the flickering light, his damp hair glistened.
"I remember her," he announced quietly. "She had long brown hair. Wavy. And these big blue eyes." He smiled, giving a soft, sad laugh. "They were so bright. And she had this beautiful pale skin. She was always smiling. Always kind to everyone. Such a pure heart."
"What happened to her?" Elena asked, her voice soft.
Damon looked down at the cup in his hand. "She died. Giving birth to Stefan." He swirled the liquid again, then brought it to his lips, draining the contents of the cup. He stood, going to the serving table, and poured himself another drink.
Elena looked down at the journal in her hand, then back up at him. His pain was almost tangible, even now, after all these years. Was it possible to ever really stop missing one's mother? She still missed hers—she didn't think she would ever stop. And clearly Damon hadn't, either.
"The journal mentions a curse," she reminded softly. "One that ties you and Stefan with Klaus and Elijah." She hesitated. "Maybe that's why he didn't kill Stefan, Damon."
"I know," he agreed quietly, without moving. She watched as he seemed to draw strength from somewhere inside of himself, straightening to face her. Face the journal in her hands.
She held it out to him. "I'll be right here," she promised.
His eyes went from the journal to hers. In the swirling blue eyes she could read the uncertainty and gratitude, the overwhelming fear buried deep inside. He nodded, rejoining her on the couch, and flipped the journal to the first page.
And then, by the light of the fire, in the nearly silent house, Damon began to read.
