It's long, I know.
I don't own vampire diaries!
When Elena opened her eyes, she knew immediately that she was in Stefan's bed, but could not remember how she got there. The last thing she remembered was Damon bandaging her head, and then telling her a story about how he'd impersonated a doctor for a day after being caught in the blood banks.
She smiled to herself, remembering his insistance that that had made him qualified to take care of her injury.
She sat up, and heard for the first time the murmured voices outside the door. She couldn't tell for sure, but it sounded like Damon and Stefan were arguing. Fighting her way free of the covers, Elena padded barefoot over to the door, listening for a second before opening the door.
"... you got a better idea, then?" Damon's voice was muffled through the wood, but recognisable. "I've got influence in the council. I can go right now."
"Have you forgotten that some - if not all - of them could have seen you carted off with the tomb vampires during the founders day parade?" Stefan said. "It's too dangerous."
"I've got a better chance than any of you of getting him out of there... relatively unharmed, and you know it."
"We have to wait until we have a plan for this, Damon," Stefan said, in an even softer voice.
"Why don't I just go and tell Elena about all of this? I'm sure you'll think faster then."
Elena chose that moment to open the door.
"Tell me what?" she asked curiously. She wasn't really awake enough to feel that suspicious. Yet.
Damon looked aside exasperatedly; he'd obviously been bluffing about actually telling her anything. Stefan rubbed her shoulder in an oddly comforting gesture, looking closely into her eyes.
"I need to talk to you about something." His gaze slid to his brother, out of the corner of his eye. "Alone," he said pointedly, and then gestured to the room behind them. Behind his back, Damon smiled innocently and waved at Elena, who smiled in return before disappearing behind the door.
As soon as they were safely behind doors, Damon's playful expression vanished, excitement dancing in his eyes instead. He turned and darted own the stairs, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he did so.
"Hello?" came the tired voice on the other end.
"Hey, Ric, you up for some more fun?" He was already slinging on his leather jacket and heading for the door.
"Fun?" Alaric said in disbelief. "You call that fun? Oh, never mind." There was a slight scuffling sound. "What are you planning?"
"I'll give you three guesses."
"John?"
"Well, what do you know, you only needed one. Now get down to the police station, okay?"
He snapped the phone shut, and then paused, leaning beside the doorframe, his brow furrowed slightly. He scrolled down in the contacts, pausing at Elena's number for just a second. Then, with a glance upward, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and whipped out of the door.
"John's becoming a vampire?" Elena said hoarsely, sinking down onto the rumpled bed. "No. That's... not possible."
"I'm so sorry, Elena." Stefan kneeled down before her, looking up into her face with sympathy plain in his eyes. "I know that this must be difficult."
"Well, what are we going to do? He's in jail, too," she said to herself, taking a deep breath and sighing it back out.
"We don't know yet," he murmured gently, taking her hands in his own. "But I swear, we are going to get him out of there, and things will be fine."
She stood up, her fingers slipping from his absently as she started to pace the room. "How can it be? He's dying. And even if he doesn't die, he's going to become a vampire. I mean, first there's Isobel, and then Jeremy, and now John..." She trailed off, running her fingers through her hair.
"I promise, we can at least get John out on his own. But you should know," he said heavily, "he doesn't seem to want to complete the transition."
"No," she murmured, shaking her head. "He wouldn't want to become a vampire after everything..."
Suddenly, she looked down at her clothes, and around the room with a blank look in her eyes.
"I should get changed," Elena said numbly.
He nodded his head slowly in understanding. "I'll get you something to eat, okay?" he offered kindly. She nodded, and he left quickly after that.
She jumped straight in the shower, letting the heat chase away her fear for a few minutes. And so she didn't notice as her phone went off in the next room, until she'd already changed completely.
She walked back into the bedroom, dragging a brush through her long hair hurriedly as she walked back over to the bed to collect her things. Elena tilted her head curiously as she caught sight of her flashing phone, and dropped the brush onto the bed, trading it for the mobile. It was a text message.
For a moment - which ashamed her later - she wondered if Stefan was actually checking on her from downstairs already. But, no; it was from Damon. The message was just two words.
Feeling criminal?
It took her just a moment to realise the meaning. Damon wasn't going to wait. He was going to the jail now, and he was going to break John out immediately. She hesitated, thoughts of her family and Stefan going through her mind, as well as the twinge of guilt in her throat as she thought of breaking the law in her own town.
What would her mother think if she was alive?
The thought snaked into the back of her mind against Elena's will before she repressed it. She almost put the phone down and left right then, but Stefan's voice came back into her mind, whispering to her again that her true mother was dead. He'd told her just a few minutes ago, and already she'd been distracted.
Elena had already lost three parents. That was more than anyone should have to go through. She lifted her phone to reply.
Less than two minutes later, Elena was pulling her jacket on and climbing unflinchingly out of the window.
"This is by far your stupidest plan yet," Alaric muttered, glancing across the parking lot to the door of the police station with a slightly shell-shocked look on his face.
"That loses more and more meaning every time you say it," Damon said in a cheery voice, clapping his hand on the other man's shoulder. He was leaning against one of the cars, his face turned up into the sun casually.
"Why did you have to tell Elena?" he demanded in an undertone. "Why did you have to invite her? We could have done it without bringing her into all of this." He waved a hand at the intimidating building before them.
"Yeah, and we would never have heard the end of it, either. Besides, you've seen how this town acts around her - they'll be rushing to treat her every need in no time."
Alaric snorted softly, chuckling to himself. "Sorry," he said as Damon raised an eyebrow, not sounding sorry at all. "It's just funny for me to hear you say that, of all people."
Damon's gaze snapped to him as he lost his relaxed pose. He stood, shifting forward aggressively. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
Damon's pocket suddenly buzzed, his phone going off. With an annoyed, wary glance at Alaric, he pulled it out.
"Hello, Stefan," he answered brightly. "Just out for a little grocery shopping, no need for alarm."
Stefan's tone was brusque. "Have you seen Elena?"
Damon made a great show of looking around him exaggeratedly, making sounds of indecision for Stefan's benefit. "Nope, sorry, haven't seen her. What, did you lose her again?"
The phone beeped; Stefan had hung up. Damon slipped the slim phone back into his pocket with a pleased smirk on his face, before it faded, anticipation tightening his stance as he looked around. His eyes were bright again.
A couple of minutes later, Elena pulled into the park, hopping out lightly and walking over with a thinly veiled guilty expression.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she greeted them heavily, but the light in her eyes was mirrored by the others.
"You don't have to," Alaric said immediately. "It's okay if you want to go."
Her chin stuck out slightly as she shook her head. "No, I want to be here. I want to help."
"That's the spirit," Damon inserted happily. "What's a little arson among friends?" He smiled wickedly.
"Arson?" Alaric said flatly. "That's your plan? You're right - I was wrong. This is the stupidest plan you've ever had." He turned away in disbelief, but didn't leave. He continued to mutter under his breath, but Damon was listening.
"Now, what is this?" he breathed, his eyes focused toward the station. Tyler Lockwood was walking toward the entrance, his eyes darting furtively from side to side and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He had dirt smudged across his face and clothing, too, Damon noticed.
"What is it?" Elena asked, following his gaze.
"I don't know. But I'm going to find out." He clapped his hands suddenly, turning to face both of them directly. "Okay. Here's the plan. I go on, distract the lovely Sheriff Forbes as requested. You both will cause a distraction - namely, a conveniently placed fire at the side of the building. Or inside," he allowed, with a thoughtful expression. "You know, if you're up for it. Elena, you'd probably be best at catching the most attention from the officers inside, while the teacher runs down and finds us some keys." He held her gaze as he spoke, silently asking her permission. At her reassuring nod, he turned back to Alaric. "I'll meet you down in the cell block, and we'll get John out. You get out the back with him without anyone noticing, and I'll stay here to help 'contain the fire'." He widened his eyes slightly as he said it, making him look even more excited. "They'll lose track of you Elena, and you can go with John and Alaric, okay? Don't put yourself in any danger," he told her sternly, holding up a finger. "No heroics."
She rolled her eyes, but nodded.
"Are you sure you can manage all that?" Alaric asked dubiously, looking at Damon. "I mean, you're not exactly anonymous in this town."
"That's why I'm staying here. I have a reason for being here; you two don't." He met Elena's gaze once before turning on his heel and sauntering into the police office, shoving both doors open as he entered.
"Drama queen," Alaric muttered, and then sprang into action, Elena right beside him.
Inside, Damon walked straight up to the desk, leaning against it, right beside Tyler, who was speaking urgently to the officer at the desk.
"You don't understand," he said in a low voice, his hands still buried in his jacket. "I have to talk to the Sheriff now."
"I'm sorry," the woman said coolly. "But you'll have to wait. Sheriff Forbes is busy right now. Please take a seat, and you can wait until she's free. Or, you can come back later." She gestured to the chairs in the waiting room.
"No!" Tyler pulled out his hands, and they were caked in rusty-brown dried blood, from around his fingernails up to his wrists and disappearing under his sleeve. "I don't know what's happened to me, I was supposed to be in the hospital. I swear, I have no idea what happened," he said desperately, holding his hands carefully away from him, almost presenting them to the officer, whose eyes had widened.
"I just woke up like this, and I don't remember anything."
"Come with me," she said briskly, pointing fiercely to the next room. Tyler didn't even look at Damon as he filed past him meekly. Damon frowned as he exited, almost forgetting his reason for being here.
He didn't bother with the paperwork; he walked straight past the desk, ignoring the protests, and into Sheriff Forbes' office. Where, thankfully, Tyler had not been taken. That would have made his plan a little more difficult to enact.
"Hello, Sheriff," he said warmly, taking a seat before her desk casually. "I heard you wanted to see me?"
She smiled, her expression tight. "Yes, thanks for coming, Damon." He didn't imagine the weariness in her voice. "I came to see you last night but I was... distracted. I need your help with a new development. There's been reports of animal attacks in the woods lately, and I was wondering if you could take a look at..."
"Animal attacks?" Damon asked, honestly curious. "What kind of animal?"
"That's the thing," she said, running a hand through her blonde hair and moving around to talk to him more informally. "We have no idea. The rangers haven't been any help with tracking them, and those that were attacked haven't been able to give a clear testimony."
She sat down on the edge of her desk, leaning forward confidentially. Damon mimicked the action, raising an eyebrow.
"You don't think it could be anything... else, do you?" she asked in a low voice.
He leaned back again, thoughtful. "It doesn't sound like a vampire attack, if that's what you mean."
"I know that," she said quickly, and she seemed to deflate a little. "But nothing seems to fit quite right, you know?" Her expressionc changed suddenly, going blank. "Can you smell..."
The sheriff trailed off as Elena's scream reached their ears.
Alaric poured out some of the recycling bags of paper out behind the station, trying to keep it in a relatively small pile, for control.
"Come on," Elena urged, shoving more of the paper out for him. "We should start another one around the other side, so it looks bigger."
He nodded in agreement, a little surprised at the deviousness of the girl's mind, and pointed out to the concrete. "Make sure no one sees you," he warned, as she hurried off, spreading her own kindling and fuel around the corner, against the walls. She crouched down, spreading it evenly along the ground, getting the most coverage, while Alaric lighted his with the matches Damon had slid into his jacket pocket.
This was incredibly stupid, and criminal, and dangerous. But, he had to admit, the results of leaving a transitioning vampire in the jail were so much worse. If John got out while he was in there, or if someone went in, he could change and be out without any of them knowing. He needed to be supervised at least if he was going to turn. He trusted that Stefan could try and keep him on a leash for now, and that if not, Damon could intervene with brute force.
Even if John didn't actually turn, he reasoned with himself, his inner monologue continuing as he helped Elena coax her flames into life. By then he would have revealed himself to the police force of Mystic Falls, just when they'd thought they'd eradicated the tomb vampires. Then questions would be brought up once more, and the security would be doubled. He doubted John would feel that hesitant in giving up information about the Salvatore brothers, now that he believed he had nothing to lose or gain from holding their secret.
He snapped back to reality, adrenaline coursing through his veins as the fire took life, the heat now hitting him from both sides.
"Go, Elena," he hissed, jogging her forward and pushing her towards the side. "Get out of here." As she was out of sight, he shifted around and jumped, grabbing the edge of the closest window. Then he began to agonizingly pull himself up. As he droppped into the conveniently empty room - storage by the looks of the boxes and files - he heard Elena screaming for help, her voice cracking convincingly. He hoped she'd have the sense not to actually get herself recognised as he moved to the door, pulling out his tools.
Good girl, Damon thought to himself as he heard Elena shout for help, but he kept his expression concerned, following her gaze out of the door. Suddenly the commotion and sirens hit them, and she shot to her feet.
"What the hell was that?" she said, and then rushed out of the office. Damon followed on her heels until he was out in the lobby. He slowed down, casually turning down the left corridor, and breaking through the locked door at the end of the hall. As it turned out, it was a good thing he was familiar with the police station after all, despite what Stefan had said.
He flashed lightly down the steps, and was greeted with an... uncomfortable sight. He could see Alaric at the other side of the room, standing out of sight of the two other people in the room besides himself and John.
That woman from the desk was seating Tyler hastily in the cell, despite his obvious desperation and panic, and backing out to lock it.
Damon went for improvisation instead of subtlety. He swept over to her, letting his expression twist in panic and scorn. It was one he was used to faking, fortunately.
"What the hell are you doing down here?" he sputtered, whipping his head back and looking up the stairs. "The sheriff sent me down here for you! Don't bother with the kid!"
"He needs to be secured for questioning later!" she protested, fumbling with her keys, her cheeks flushing.
He thrust his hand out and grabbed them, pointing back upstairs. "Go! I'm on the council!"
Utter confusion swept across her face, and he seized his opportunity. "Oh, good." He stared deep into her brown eyes. "Go upstairs with the others," he compelled her, certain she'd not ingested vervaine. "Later, you'll tell them that John Gilbert was missing from his cell when you came down. You never saw me here."
He released her and, with a glazed look in her eye, she stumbled up the stairs.
"Crap," he muttered, looking over at Tyler as she left, but the boy wasn't listening. He was staring at John in the cell opposite, a look of complete terror on his face. His mouth was hanging slightly open, his hands open and palm up in his lap.
Damon would have to look into the later.
Taking the keys, he met up with Alaric as they both ran to the cell, snatching the door out of the way.
"What the hell are you doing?" John demanded as Damon went in and jerked him to his feet, pushing him out of the cell disdainfully into Alaric's grip.
"Get him out of here," he told Alaric seriously, throwing him the key chain and turning to lean forward toward Tyler's cell. "Tell anybody we were here, and I'll be back," he said menacingly, almost pressing his face up to the bars. He took a shot in the dark, his mind piecing together random suspicions and impulses. "And I'll have a little story about your foray into the woods for out charming sheriff while I'm at it." He thought that the threat of incarceration would be more effective on the boy's over-developed sense of invincibility.
Tyler swallowed, still darting horrified glances over at the steel back door, where Alaric was now wrestling John out of the building. He nodded, and Damon had a split second to puzzle over the hazed, clammy look on the boys face that had nothing to do with his threat.
Just before he left, the teacher tossed the keys back to Damon, who caught them deftly and chucked them onto the table by the door as he ran back up the stairs.
"Will you shut up and let us help you?" Alaric growled as he had to literally drag John up and away from the station, over to the parking lot. The fire had already been put out, by the looks of it, but the billowing smoke from the other side told him Damon had, in fact, continued his work.
Instead of quieting and cooperating, John thrashed suddenly, straining in the direction of the people. "Help!" he bellowed. "Hello!"
Alaric clapped a hand over his mouth and wrestled him into the car, throwing him in the backseat and locking the doors.
"Elena?" John said, incredulously as he looked at the driver. She grinned tightly, her cheeks flushed in excitement, and slightly darkened with smoke. He rounded angrily on Alaric beside him. "You dragged her into this, too? My daughter?"
"I know everything, John," Elena said from the backseat, throwing the car into drive. "So you're just going to have to deal with the fact that I chose to come here."
Fortunately, the firetruck came bursting onto the scene, giving them ample distraction to speed out the front amidst the smoke and the intense spray of fire hoses.
John had succumbed to a simmering silence, when his head suddenly shot to the side, his gaze being pulled down to Alaric's hand.
"What's that?" he asked in a rough voice.
"What are you talking about?" Alaric replied, nettled, but he lifted his hand, looking in the direction that John had. A small drop of blood fell from the thin cut on the side of Alaric's hand.
"Must've been when I was dragging you out of that stupid fence," he muttered, wiping absently at the scratch. Then his eyes widened as the significance hit him. "Oh."
John was pressing himself into the seat, hard, his averted face twisted in disgust... and something much worse.
a/n: Hope you guys like it :) and as always thanks for reading (and for being so nice in your reviews.)