The Slayer Diaries
Chapter 11: Red Rover, Red Rover, Send Sidney on Over
Keeley was very visibly bored out of her mind. Stefan was, too, though he did a better job at hiding it. The ease with which they got through their math homework still pissed Caroline off, though, who had always hated anything that had to do with numbers.
Keeley sighed, drumming her pen against her notebook, and glumly traced the rim of her cappuccino cup. Caroline broke.
"Okay," the blonde reasoned, straightening up from her textbook and then slamming it shut. "Listen. Just because some of us are immortals who have gone to medical school- or- or freakish super geniuses does not mean that we all can't enjoy hanging out together."
Keeley blinked and tossed the pen down onto the notebook. "Who says we aren't all enjoying hanging out together?"
"I'm enjoying hanging out with you two," Stefan decided.
Caroline glared at him. "You aren't the person I was being passive aggressive towards."
"But you mentioned me-"
"Sh-ut, Stefan!"
Before Keeley could attempt to defend herself (because she really was incredibly bored), the bell over the door of Sundays with Suzie chimed, and Elena Gilbert slunk into the shop. Stefan held some half-hearted notion of hoping she wouldn't notice them, but it seemed she was actively looking for them (or him, more specifically), because she shyly approached their table and grinned weakly.
"Hey, guys," she muttered. "How's it going?"
"Good," Keeley answered, because Caroline was too busy documenting the exchange, so she could gossip about it later. "How are you?"
Elena was staring at Stefan anxiously. "Good. Stefan, can we talk?"
"Um," was all Stefan could think to reply.
Caroline was staring at the ex-couple with rapt attention, interrupted by Keeley, who dragged her up by the arm and to the cash register, desperately chattering on about getting all of them refills.
Traitors, Stefan thought, but to Elena, he said; "What can I do for you?"
"I miss you." Elena wasted no time. "I miss you- us- so bad it hurts, and- and I know I said a few weeks ago that we were wrong for each other, but… But I was lying- I think and I-" She sighed. "I miss you."
Well.
That was a lot to take in.
Stefan wasn't quite sure how he felt about Elena Gilbert these days. He knew that some part of him loved her, even if he didn't know what kind of love that was, anymore. But he also knew that he was tired of the emotional rollercoaster. And he was tired of the angst and the fighting and the constant, gothic, Mary Shelly-esque drama. He wanted something fun. He wanted to be able to breathe again, and to enjoy whatever bits of life he had left in him.
And, as much as he cared about her, he wasn't sure that Elena could offer that to him.
She seemed to notice the apprehension on his face, because she blurted out; "My dad had a lake house not far from here. He left it to Sidney when he- Whatever. I've been wanting to go to get my mind off of… Well, everything… We should go. You should come with me, that is. It would be a chance for us to talk, and we have that long weekend coming up, so… What do you think?"
I think you're going to go there no matter what I say or do, so I might as well go with you, so you don't die, and we can figure out this shit storm of a relationship.
"I think." Stefan stopped, reassessed, and then answered in a level tone; "I think we should go."
In all the Mikaelson-werewolf-coma craziness, I had forgotten about the Mystic Falls Council.
It was kind of like the PTA, only instead of regulating high schoolers, it regulated vampires (or attempted to, anyway). Damon had strong-armed me into joining with him a few months ago, and I had attended a couple of meetings with him, in the interest of making sure they were still oblivious to what was really going on with the supernatural community in the town. Things had been pretty awkward lately, what with the Council accidentally killing the late Mayor Lockwood, and Sherriff Forbes finding out that her daughter and the Salvatores were all vampires. But for the most part, the Council had remained relatively oblivious to all of the Original vampire business going on.
And now, I was attending the new Mayor Lockwood's tea party.
Predictably, Damon hunted me down the moment I stepped through the doors to the mansion.
"Siddie!" he bellowed, ignoring the raised eyebrows being sent in our direction. "You've got some explaining to do."
I flinched against the corner he had herded me into. "Nope. Nope. No, I don't. I do not."
"Yes, you-" Damon stopped, sighed, ran hands through his hair, and then pinned me with a stare. "Alright, you win. You don't."
My eyebrow rose of its own accord. I bit my lip so hard it hurt, and bridged; "I don't? Where are you going with this?"
Because the Damon Of The Past would have kidnapped me from my bedroom by this point and chained me up somewhere until all of the Originals business was over and done with.
"Look," Damon stated. "I've been watching a lot of Sex and the City lately-"
"What the fuck?"
"-and if there's one thing that I've learned, it's that women don't like it when guys are too pushy." His voice rose as he spoke. "So, I'm going to give you some time. I love you, Siddie. And I want to take care of you- I want you to believe that I can take care of you. But I'm not going to force you, because that's what drove you off in the first place.
"So, if you want me to hear you out. If you want me to understand why you're doing this, then meet me at five tomorrow night, where we first got together. I'll be waiting, and if you show up, I'll listen to you, as long as you listen to me."
"Why there?" I asked, because I didn't really know what else to say.
Damon shrugged. "Sentiment?" he offered. "Also, because no one else knows where that is but us, and I don't want any unwelcome visitors while we talk about this."
And so, I considered.
I knew that if I went to that lake, it would be nearly impossible for me to keep from telling Damon the truth. Because I loved him, and I wanted to trust him and believe him- but my deal with Elijah would end if told absolutely anyone about what I had promised to do. And so far, that deal was the best option- the only option- that we had.
And as much as I loved Damon, as much as I considered him a part of my family, my first allegiance was always going to be to Elena. And right now, that meant I had to give that same loyalty to Elijah.
But there had to be a way to make Damon understand that.
Didn't there?
"I'll think about it," I told him. "But- But Damon, you have to understand- I'm…"I choked, glanced around the crowded room, and then down at my shoes. "I'm not doing this- any of this- because I want to hurt you. I just- I just want my sister to be safe."
Damon was staring at me with that same look in his eyes he had given me when I'd saved him from the burning building: the soft, warm, smoldering look that both suffocated and embraced me at the same time. And I nearly melted, would have broken right then, if it weren't for-
Slender, piano-player hands wrapping around my shoulders.
"Damon," Elijah purred. "It's been quite a while. What have you been up to?"
"Fancy seeing you here, Mikaelson," Damon mocked in as insulting a British accent he could muster. Those burning-building eyes had turned into hard, gunmetal and smoke.
"Can I leave now?" I asked, tired to my bones.
"No," they both replied. Neither one looked down at me, too busy glaring at each other.
As the two turned back to their pissing contest, I attempted to extract myself from Elijah's hold. He responded by tightening his grip, and letting the hands glide down my arms until they wrapped around my waist. Damon paused mid-sentence and glared at the hold, nostrils flaring dangerously.
"Kindly get your hands off the love of my life," he commanded steadily.
"Okay, no." I jerked away from Elijah before the situation could escalate further. "Nope. We aren't doing this- I do not put up with clichés." I huffed, bit my lip, glared at the two of them. "Keep the penis joust away from me. I am going home. I'm sure I'll see one of you stalking me or breaking into my house later tonight. Good-damn-day."
And with one last goodbye to Mayor Lockwood (and an apology for spending all of ten minutes at her tea party), I slipped out the door and into my car, heart heavy and mind in a whirl.
It was beginning to occur to Damon that Sidney might not want to talk things out, after all.
He had shown up to the lake a few minutes early (the first, and only time, he had been early to anything, ever), and now, Sidney was eight minutes late. This, of course, made him nervous in ways he hadn't been for a long time. It had never even crossed his mind that Sidney wouldn't be anything less than fully committed to their relationship. She, and what they had together, were two of the only things he had ever been able to completely rely on. And the idea that those two things could end was unfathomable to him.
Damon had first begun to notice there was something wrong with Sidney when she had been in that God-awful Dracula musical. At first, he had chalked it up to stage fright. But then, he took in the obsessive amount of attention she was paying to Elena's whereabouts, the way she flinched at shadows and tall men in suits, her lack of interest in doing anything that wasn't about stopping Klaus- romantic, fun, sexual, or otherwise.
It took a not-so-coincidental run in with Elijah at The Grille to make Damon realize what was the cause of all of this. Elijah had released a barb along the lines of "even your girlfriend trusts me more than you", and then a lot of things had started to make sense to Damon.
Sidney had made a deal with Elijah.
It had taken a lot of thinking to figure out just what the hell was said to make Sidney trust the Original. But the answer had been a lot simpler than had Damon given it credit for: Sidney didn't think they were strong enough to beat an Original vampire, unless they had another Original vampire on their side.
So now, it was a question of convincing her of their own strength.
There was a rustle from the direction of the trail, and when Damon turned, there Sidney stood, looking like a forlorn shadow of her usual self. Her head hung low, like a queen burdened with a crown far too heavy for her. Her flannel and jeans sagged over a body that hadn't eaten much in the past few weeks, and her once-healthy, bouncy, shiny chestnut waves hung limply around her shoulders. Those green eyes he adored lacked their usual fire, surrounded by circles too dark to ignore, and the freckles he loved to kiss were too striking against deathly-pale skin.
Sidney shrugged at him, defeated by a conversation that hadn't even occurred yet. "I'm here." She paused, thought, then nodded. "I'm here."
"I can see that," Damon joked lamely, and then when it didn't work, he tried a different tactic. "So, what did Elijah tell you to make you believe he was more capable of protecting you and Elena than we are?"
Sidney shifted in that uncomfortable way of hers: hands in her pockets, lower lip between her teeth. "He told me a lot of things," she confessed. "But mostly, he just… proved himself, I guess? That he's strong- really, really damn strong, Damon. And I don't-" She swallowed. "Klaus is even stronger than he is. Three of us were barely enough to keep Elijah down for a few hours. There's no way- The- I can't think of any- We aren't strong enough to do this without Elijah!"
That shouldn't have hurt Damon, but it did. "Anything else?" he asked. "Because you have a tendency to try and fight things that are a hell of a lot more powerful than you- I would know."
"Yeah, but Elijah has one thing that I don't!" Sidney cried. Her hands twitched nervously to the stake in her back pocket.
"And what's that?" Damon demanded.
"A plan," Sidney spat. "He has a plan- a damn good one. And I may not- He may not have told me everything, but he's told me enough of it for me to understand that- That this is the best shot we've got, and even if it means I- I have to…"
She stopped, and something like pure dread flooded Damon to the point where he could barely stand anymore.
"Even if it means you have to what, Siddie?" he pressed quietly, that edge-of-the-knife, skydiving feeling in his chest.
Before Sidney even answered, he knew. She hadn't been taking pictures lately, hadn't been playing soccer, hadn't been working toward graduating- Like she had given up on her life.
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does!"
Sidney was at the end of her rope. Her hands flew to her hair, and she screamed; "Why does it matter?"
"Because I love you!" Damon bellowed back. "Because I love you, and Stefan loves you, and even though she's not acting like it right now, Elena really fucking loves you. And that means that you do not get to throw your life away on a deal made with a man we can't fucking trust!"
"It's my life," Sidney breathed. "It's my life, and if I want to sacrifice it for someone I love, then yes, I do get to make that choice."
Damon wanted to- to grab her, hold her close to him. Make her stop talking, make her stop trying to barter with what had to be the most important thing in the world. Because the world did not exist without Sidney Gilbert in it. No, not any more. And even if she hated him, she would be safe, and she would be alive, and she would be with him.
"Not if there's another way," he thought out loud. "Not if we can find a way to save Elena that doesn't somehow involve you dying instead."
"But what if we can't?" Sidney whispered. "What if there's not enough time to even begin looking?"
Then I will let Elena die, Damon decided furiously. I would let the world burn to ashes if it meant you were still alive and well.
Instead, he said; "But there is enough time- We've always found a loophole, and we'll find one now. You don't have to die for this, and neither does Elena."
Sidney's face was screwed up in that thoughtful, painful way of hers, freckles lifting and rearranging on her face. "And what if we can't?"
"You can't think like that, Siddie," Damon spat. "You cannot stop believing in our ability to get through this, because the minute you- you most of all- give up, we're fucked. We've got good people behind us, Siddie- the best people I've met in a long time. You are the best person I've met in a long time. And as for Elijah? How do you know? How do you know he isn't just working for Klaus and messing with your head to try and throw you off your game? How do you know he won't betray you?"
"I-" She began. "I don't-"
"Exactly," Damon insisted, unwilling to give up the first progress he had made. "You don't. How much of his plan has he told you?"
Sidney was obviously reluctant, but he wouldn't let her back out of this one.
Come on. Just a little. Just give me a little. If you give me an inch I will take a mile.
"Not… Not all of it."
Good girl.
"That doesn't sound like something a person you could trust would do."
"No! No, it doesn't! But- but this isn't a normal situation, Damon!" Sidney barked, stumbling over herself in ways she hadn't since the first few months they had known each other for. "And he hasn't told me everything specifically because he knew you would try to do exactly what you're doing right now- and I hate it! Stop- stop making me doubt-!"
She stopped, face screwed up angrily. The rare, salty scent of her tears assaulted him. Before Damon knew it, his arms were around her, sheltering her the same way he wished he could all the time.
"Please just let me- let us protect you," he whispered into the coffee and lavender locks. "You spend all your time looking after us; let us look after you for once."
Sidney didn't say anything. She nodded, but Damon wasn't kidding himself into believing she was agreeing to anything. That would have to be enough for now, though. He'd made progress, and hopefully he wouldn't be locking her into the Boarding House's cell anytime soon, but if worse came to worse…
If worse came to worse, Sidney Gilbert was going to stay alive no matter what Damon had to do to make it happen.
He held onto her for as long as she would let him. And though it was nearly an hour, he wanted to cling to her for longer- wanted to never, ever let go.
Eventually though, with a sniff and a guilty, watery smile, Sidney pulled away. Damon's hands clung stubbornly to her arms, wrinkling her flannel. He felt those same arms shiver. When he looked up, the sun had set, and a fog the likes of which he used to conjure "for dramatic effect" had settled over the lake.
"Boarding House," he decided, and Sidney nodded, even though it hadn't been a question.
Damon's car was his favorite place in the world. Since 1969, his Chevy Camaro convertible (nicknamed "Betty", after the first woman he had taken in the backseat) had been the only thing he could rely on. He thought of Betty as more of a home than the Boarding House, and much like a dragon hoarding treasures in its cave, Damon preferred Sidney wrapped up in his leather jacket, curled up in the passenger seat of his car.
Part of him wanted to just. Keep. Driving.
But that would be kidnapping, and he'd already, technically, kidnapped her. And, even though it was that kidnapping that had strengthened their then-budding-friendship, he doubted a repeat performance would go over well with Sidney. So, kidnapping was the last resort.
For now, at least.
Damon shouldn't have been surprised that Elijah was waiting for them when they pulled up to the Boarding House. He really, really shouldn't have. Because Elijah had this- this hold on Sidney. The kind of hold that Damon used to have over Sidney, and Caroline, and Betty, and all the other girls before them. But it was different when it was someone else doing it to his girlfriend; a real, living, breathing person with fire in her eyes, and this hitch in her voice when she talked about all the beautiful sights she wanted to see, and this quirk in her lips when she got turned on. And dammit, that person didn't deserve to be controlled like this.
Sidney sat up in the passenger side, sleep in her eyes. They widened when they landed on Elijah. She flinched and moved to step out of the car.
"Don't," Damon found himself growling. "Stay here. I'll handle this."
"Damon-" she tried to warn.
"I don't want him messing with your head right now."
"What? So you can?"
"Abso-fucking-lutely. Stay here," Damon commanded, and then he was out of the car.
Elijah's mouth sneered with the kind of disgust Damon usually only reserved for people like Mason Lockwood and Katherine Pierce. Damon felt a kind of sick satisfaction that he registered with Elijah as the same kind of threat. But Elijah's eyes flickered from him to track Sidney, who was, of course, disobeying Damon and getting out of the car.
"Why are you here?" Sidney asked quietly.
Damon didn't like the hunger in the set of Elijah's shoulders- mostly because he recognized it as the same kind of hunger he constantly felt around Sidney. And Damon was the only person allowed to feel that kind of hunger for Sidney.
Elijah spoke; "Your group's little werewolf-"
"His name is Tyler," Sidney interrupted, and Damon was glad to see she hadn't lost her spunk yet. "And he's not a part of our group- not after what he did."
"Or didn't do, rather," Damon chimed in. Tyler's betrayal of Blondie and Alaric's daughter still rankled with all of them.
"No matter," Elijah dismissed. "The same wolves I sent my witch to dispatch for him are on their way here to seek revenge- on you two. I'm sure you understand why I can't let that happen, don't you, Sidney?"
And Sidney took a step back.
That one little movement angered Damon in a way he hadn't felt in a long while.
Because the Sidney Gilbert he knew didn't back away from anything.
"Yeah," she answered. "Yeah- yeah I do. Thanks for being here."
"We don't need you," Damon said.
"Shut up, Damon," Sidney said.
Elijah raised an eyebrow. "I recommend both of you going inside," he told them. "I will handle this quickly."
"Actually, seeing as this is my house," Damon corrected, "I'll stay out here with you. You look like you could use the help."
Elijah snorted. "Clearly, you haven't paid much attention during our last encounters."
Damon bit back the retort that wanted to bubble up and rip Elijah's throat out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sidney lingering behind them on the porch. She dropped Damon's jacket onto the swing-bench and pulled a small hand pistol out of her back pocket. He was peeved she was putting herself in the line of fire again, but mostly, he was proud of her for disobeying Elijah.
Before too long, glowing, red eyes blinked out at them from the darkness of the tree line. The wolves slunk out of the depths, teeth and ambitions bared. They recoiled when they saw Elijah. The Alpha of the group turned human.
"Beat it, Mikaelson," she snarled, red hair barely concealing her naked breasts. "This isn't about you."
If there was a way to make his voice sound like it was rolling its eyes, Elijah succeeded in doing so. "I would beg to differ. Unfortunately, I am tasked with the job of protecting these two. You understand why I can't let you get revenge on them."
The werewolf snarled, lunged, and then her red hair was overshadowed by the dark scarlet of her blood, where it wept out of her decapitated head. Before Damon could blink, more heads rolled. The wolves retreated in a flurry of yelps and whimpers, and Elijah turned to them with a smirk and nary a splotch on his three-piece-suit.
He gave a mocking bow. "Have a pleasant evening," he told them, then tipped his head at Sidney, whose arms cradled her chest and stomach. "Sidney. I'll be tracking you down later."
With Elijah gone, Damon resisted the urge to turn on Sidney. But the anger from the encounter still boiled in him: all that jealousy, possessiveness, darkness that he tried so hard to deny around her was boiling in his stomach. Before he could stop it, he asked; "So, do you care about him?"
Sidney's expression was the purest form of confusion and discomfort that Damon had seen in nearly a century. "What- who? Elijah? No- God, no!" Something on Damon's face prompted her to word-vomit; "And I want to trust- really, I do want to trust you! I want to trust that you and Stefan and all of our friends will be able to get us through this, but Elijah-"
She was crying again. Damon hated it. She swallowed deeply. "Elijah is so strong. And Damon- Damon I am not fearless. I pretend like I am because someone has to be, but I'm not. And something stronger than Elijah terrifies me."
Damon was up the stairs and looming over her before he had a conscious thought. His next words weren't planned: "You've been able to trust me before this. Why don't you trust me now?"
"I do trust you," she tried to insist. "I never stopped trusting you-"
"Prove it."
Elena and Stefan were gone, Damon was holding me emotionally hostage, and I had a feeling that I was going to be staying at the Boarding House for a damn long while. Damon had just barely agreed to let me head home and tell Jenna about the sleep over, as well as grab my toothbrush, camera, and some clothes. Opening the door to Elijah, surveying my wall of Polaroids, was no surprise.
"You've talent," he decided. "Perhaps you should pursue photography once this is all over."
That sent a pang into my chest (one I knew Elijah had wanted to put there). I snorted. "I won't be alive once this is all over," I reminded him quietly.
He chuckled softly and turned to stare me down, hands still in his pockets. "No, you will be, because according to your 'boyfriend', our deal no longer exists."
I froze. I was an idiot to have thought that he wouldn't find out what had been said between Damon and I earlier that day.
Rather than go through screaming and crying and yelling all over again, I cut the shit the way I had been wanting to all this time, and said; "I don't know if it does anymore, Elijah."
He cocked his head, false confusion in his face. I felt myself lean away from him as he got closer to me.
"See, what you fail to grasp," Elijah whispered dangerously, "is that making a deal with me is not dissimilar to making a deal with the devil. There are painfully few ways to get out of one. Your 'epic love' refusing to give his permission won't save your save your soul now, Sidney Gilbert. You are in far, far too deep."
Ice crept up my spine, but it wasn't nearly as cold as Elijah was.
"Okay," I agreed. "Okay- you're right. I made a promise to you because you have a plan, and I don't. But- but you have to understand…"
Damon's words against Elijah rang in my ears.
"Things would just be a lot easier," I waffled, "if I knew all of the details of that plan. Like how I'm going to take Elena's place, and- and what the sacrifice is even for- Why does Klaus want to break the Curse at all?"
It just didn't make sense. I knew that the Originals were immune to the burns the sun caused most other vampires, and Elijah certainly held no love for werewolves. So why would Klaus care if the sun and moon controlled all the other supernatural creatures? And why would Elena's life be the sacrifice needed to break it?
Elijah was still staring at me. He was so close- too close- to me. I wanted to be with Damon again. At least Damon's manipulations didn't scare me. At least I was used to him manipulating me. At least I knew he didn't want to hurt me.
I didn't know anything about Elijah.
"Alright," he decided. "I'll tell you."
And he did.
Klaus Mikaelson was the bastard son of Esther and Mikael, Vikings who had come to pre-colonial North America (Mystic Falls, more specifically) in search of a better life for them and their future children. While there, Esther had an affair with one of the tribesmen who lived in the area- tribesmen who just so happened to be werewolves. Klaus was the bastard product of that affair.
One thing lead to another, and Klaus and Elijah were fully grown, fighting over a woman named Tatia: the first woman to lay claim to my sister's face. Mikael, feeling endangered by the world surrounding his family, pressured Esther, an incredibly powerful witch, to perform a spell that would keep his family alive and well- forever. They would become the Original Vampires, and Tatia's blood- now, Elena's blood- had been the sacrifice used to bind them to immortality, and to time itself.
Klaus was a hybrid: half-werewolf, half-vampire, all monster. And to unlock the werewolf side of himself and gain a power more terrifying than anything the world had seen before, he needed to perform a three-way sacrifice.
One vampire had to die. One werewolf had to die. And one doppelgänger had to die.
But if Elena and I both drank from a certain potion within a certain amount of time, my life would be exchanged for hers if she was killed.
Elijah stood over me where I sat on my bed. He knew just as well as I did that his cards were a much better hand than Damon's. And as much as I didn't want to die, I knew that no matter what, Elena had to live.
"I'll leave you to it," he flouted. "But Sidney? A reminder."
I hummed vaguely at him. He moved to my open window.
"I don't take kindly to those who betray me."
A/N: So, wow! This came out more than a month earlier than it was supposed to! Yay, me! I believe this can be attributed to one very important factor: I made the executive decision that this story and a few of its characters (Sidney, Keeley, Damon) are genuinely good. And I love them. And I want them to exist in a medium outside of this one. So, after this series is over, I will be rewriting it as an original series with a very different storyline, but with the same feel. And I'm going to try and get it published. I'm excited, and I hope you are, too. But we've still got a lot of work to do. So, if you liked this chapter (or even if you didn't like it), please leave a review!
Next time: With her Uncle John resurfacing, and a deal with the devil hanging over her head, Sidney is forced to pick a side at the dinner party from Hell.
