Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries or any of it's characters...


Sanctuary

Ascending up the cold and slippery steps that led to the thick, deep brown door, Damon remembered Isobel's love of the study of stereotypical vampires because that was what led her to the truth of reality's vampires. That and John Gilbert, of course. She taunted him, before he turned her, about coffins and churches and crosses. She was fascinated with all the mythologies the humans gave of their version of his - their kind.

As he slowly stepped into the abandoned church, he gazed up to the glimmering, broken stain glass windows that lined each wall. The jagged, cracked glass that still lined the edges of the windowsill fell slowly to the ground and shattered into smaller pieces when he shut the door. The sound echoed eerily throughout the cavern-like space.

He glanced around quickly to find she wasn't here - neither Rose, nor Isobel. Though Isobel led him here, that didn't indicate that she placed Rose here, meaning this could only be a trap. As soon as he turned to leave, Isobel blocked to entryway, smiling and flanked by half a dozen men. Both newer vampires and tall, strong-looking men lined the door, blocking the only apparent way out.

He sped through the church, none of them following him, to see if they might have left Rose nearby - or even a trace of her scent. What he found, though, was another door blocked by at least four other men. Isobel may have resources to control these men, but she made the location of the prize so obvious there was no way she would survive long.

So Damon fought them easily, desiring to get the prize on the other side of the door.


Elena stepped up to the front porch with Stefan by her side, with his arm around her. Sighing, he took a step back to meet her face forward with his hands on her shoulders.

"Remember to be more careful than usual now, Elena."

Her eyebrows drew down. "Only because I'll be immortal soon?"

He shook his head. "Because you just decided to be with me forever and I will always need you to be careful."

She rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Good." He let go of one of her shoulders for a moment to take something from his jeans pocket. "If you're in danger, I need you to drink this."

A small vial lay in his hand, full of thick red liquid. "It's my blood. Just only use it if necessary, okay?"

Just as she nodded and took the vial did the door open wide to show Jenna, with an expression that made even Stefan step back, kiss Elena goodbye, and leave. Elena gingerly stepped inside the house, steering clear of her aunt.

"What were you thinking? I barely give you guys any rules, and yet you break them! You know how worried I was? I was thinking about calling the police! Where were you? No, better yet - why didn't you call me, Elena? I was worried to death!" Jenna ranted.

Elena tuned her out until she was completely quiet, and then explained to Jenna that she was at the Salvatore's and had forgotten to call. Before Jenna could start another tirade, Mr. Saltzman came down the stairs, muttering "What's going on, Jenna?" with only a towel around his hips.

Elena stared wide-eyed between the both of them, and then kept it turned towards Jenna, who shrugged.

Elena shook her head, surprised he only had a few bruises and a butterfly bandage on his head. "Looks like someone is feeling a whole lot better."


Alice was sitting on Stefan's bed, reading one of the many books he kept in his room, when a shadow passed through the doorway. She snapped her head to the side, only to be met with the familiar face of Jeremy. Her face relaxed into the usual smile she reserved for him and patted the spot next to her.

He crossed his arms awkwardly, but lay down next to her, breathing in deeply. "What're you reading?"

"The Tempest by Shakespeare." She shrugged. "I kinda chose randomly."

His mouth tugged at one corner, making a crooked smile, and scooted closer towards her, though it seemed subconsciously. "Okay, so are you and Rose sisters, or something?"

She laughed. "So you're here for information, are you? Well, to answer your question, Rose's my mother."

His eyes widened. "But vamps can't reproduce-"

"-No, they cannot. But my mom is part witch also - my grandma was one and made it possible." She shrugged. "Guess she really wanted kids."

Jeremy shook his head, and then looked up at her. "Wait, so who's Loren and are you guys related?"

She shook her head, also, and started spilling her secrets out to this vampire she barely knew. What was strange, though, is that she trusted him. As she was speaking, she tried to see if the same trust was in him for her. But all she could do was watch him and see if his expressions and replies gave any indication.

So they kept on talking incessantly, him saying his story and her telling hers, until well past two. Through the long dialogue, they subconsciously moved closer to each other until they were almost snuggling. After they had nothing else to say, and the silence was long, but comfortable, did Jeremy rest his head on top of her dark curls, gently kissing it.

So they slept there, with Stefan slumbering away on the couch (before hearing that their long conversation wouldn't end soon), in each other's arms.


After the last body fell with a dull thump on the ground, Damon opened and stepped through the wooden door. The freezing cold wind shocked him as he stepped into the room, keeping him in place. He shook his head to clear the haze it put him in and got a better look at the room he was in - make that a long hallway with at least eight doors lining the walls.

Ugh, he couldn't deal with this now with the smoky air making him weaker and the thought of the possibilities of situations Rose could be in right now. He stopped breathing and walked toward the middle door, trying to listen to any slip of sound. Nothing. Then he tried the eighth door, the sixth door, and the third, all with still nothing.

He sighed and tried to open the rest - all of them unlocked with empty rooms behind them. One room though was full to the top with storage - broken pews, extra Bibles, and tons of bookshelves - both small and tall. He stepped through the clutter with his nose wrinkled - he could hear the tiny mice's heartbeats as they scattered around the room.

Setting down one of the larger bookshelves at the back of the room, he discovered another door. This one, of course, was locked. He broke down the door instantly. Behind it was a small working space that held a desk with a lit candle, a wooden chair, and a twin-sized bed. Lying on that bed was Rose's unconscious form with a tube stuck into the soft side of her forearm, like a doctor's needle. Instead of taking blood, though, it was shooting a yellow tinted liquid into her veins. That, paired with the airborne vervaine she was inhaling, made her stay as still as a corpse, not shifting or twitching but just gone. Thick shackles held her hands and feet against the bed, but Damon was still too weak from the vervaine-tainted air to do much about it.

Heels clacked against the old stone flooring, but Damon didn't even look up from Rose to see Isobel enter. She closed the door softly and shoved on Damon's shoulder, causing him to turn towards her. She smoothed his hair back, but before she could lean any closer he rammed her against the wall, still strong enough for that at least.

He ripped the small gas mask from the bottom half of her face. "Take of the shackles and I'll let you live."

She laughed. "Don't you like it though, Damon? This little invention of mine, well my Loraine's invention at least. Making the liquid vervaine into a gas. Perfect, really, for what I have in store for you…"

Damon growled. "Where is the key-?"

A skeleton key hung from her neck, tied around with ribbon. He ripped it from her and knelt down next to Rose.

"No! I won't allow it."

He wasn't even listening to her, only focused on unlocking the fetters from around her hands and taking out the tube. Once he started on the feet, though, Isobel slammed the wooden chair into the wall over his head. He brushed off the debris and splinters, snorting at Isobel's stupidity, and finally unlocked the last chain. As he was about to lift her up, Isobel plunged one of the wooden shards, broken from the chair, into his chest.

Missing his heart by inches.

She screamed in outrage, pulled it out of him, and tried again. But this time he was ready for it and blocked her attack, snapping her arm in the process. Her eyes widened, and it was as it she realized she wasn't going to win, so she sped away.

He gently picked Rose up and walked out of the working space room and the storage room, and up back into the main room where her minions still stood. Damon almost felt pity on them when he knocked each of them unconscious - what did she suspect, though - they were new vamps and humans.

After scooping Rose back up and getting her out of the creepy church, he saw her eyes were slowly opening. As her gaze focused on him, she gave a half smile and reached into her pocket, revealing a watch of his that he lost a couple of days ago. He shook his head as comprehension swept over him, realizing Isobel played the same trick on her to lure her into her trap.


The next day, Jeremy was led by Alice to the front door of his house, scared by what Jenna's reaction would be. Alice whispered her goodbye to him, and then was about to leave before he stopped her. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers.

Flames erupted between them and they twined their arms around each other, couldn't get enough of each other. He felt how right it was, knew it.

After a while, they broke away from each other, breathless. Each going their different ways, but impatient to what they could have tomorrow.


Tyler was running his daily exercise around the town in wolf form when he saw it. The little boy that tried to steal Vicki from him and the girl he was constantly thinking about, kissing.

He knew he couldn't control it; by he tried to control the rage that spread through him quickly. In the scrapbook, it said of how werewolves' emotions could be intensified so much that some went delirious with it.

He felt the fury boiling past the surface, and lost all thought but that emotion.