Thank you to everyone who is reading, following, and especially reviewing! And a special thank you to Sajen, who was an unofficial beta on this chapter.

Angel Starbeam - I really like the Elena-Bonnie-Caroline friendship and am hoping to get more opportunities to explore it. And I also thought it was important for Elena to address the triangle. I don't think this is the last we're going to hear about it. They've not really dealt with this, and I think Damon still feels like he's competing with the memory of Stefan. He's just got a lot of insecurities. For anyone who's wondering if Klaus is going to show up: the answer is yes, but I don't know when. As for this chapter, it's a long one, and I think we're closing in on a turning point, so enjoy. ...

(Also, this has nothing to do with my story, but I've been re-watching the early seasons. Has anybody noticed how inappropriate Stefan's behavior is at the beginning of the show? Damon was such a good villain so maybe that's why I wasn't paying attention, but Stefan stalks Elena for months, and you know he's just interested in her because she looks like Katherine. He says she's nothing like her, but then why wouldn't he be stalking some other girl? And then several people die, and Vicki gets bitten, and Stefan is still with Elena. I'm not a Stefan hater, but this is bad judgment at best, creepy as hell at worst.)

May 2018

Damon was standing in front of his mirror, wearing a very expensive pair of jeans, buttoning up his black dress shirt, and considering the best way to murder the more annoying members of the Mystic Falls Founder's Council. As he fastened the last button, he glanced into the mirror and saw Elena stirring in the bed.

Damn.

They'd been in Mystic Falls for two months now, and they'd settled into a routine of coexisting with Alaric and Caroline's little witch school, reading grimoires day and night to find evidence of whatever witchy thing they were dealing with, venturing into town as little as possible (Elena had refused to stay housebound), and trying to interpret the visions Elena continued to get every couple of days. The visions didn't make a lot of sense, but Elena kept seeing the old clock tower, where Matt and Vicki had almost brought about hell on Earth, and sensing a lot of power. A magical type of power. Bonnie believed that Mystic Falls had become a hotspot for magical energy, but didn't know what their baby had to do with anything, and why she was so intent on telling them … whatever she was trying to tell them. Until they knew more, they couldn't go "home" to Charlottesville. Not when Elena might be in danger, and not when the baby's visions were the only clue to a potential disaster.

Nothing serious was happening. Which worried Damon. Weird mystical visions never just happened. Magic was never benign. Something was building. He could almost feel the town vibrating with … something. He hadn't mentioned this to anyone but Bonnie, who said she felt it too. She'd wondered if either Damon or Elena might have some latent magical ability never explored in their earlier stints as humans. Something about Elena being a doppelgänger and them both having Traveller blood. Elena was a descendant of Amara, and Damon must be a descendant of Silas (since Stefan was his doppelgänger). Damon had laughed this off, but Bonnie said magic could show up late in life, or it could skip a generation. They could be carriers, which might explain their baby's weird vision-giving abilities. Damon had shuddered, wanting as little to do with magic as possible. Magic always came with a cost.

Elena had been tossing and turning last night, unable to sleep. She'd said she was uncomfortable, and that was probably true, but Damon also thought she was worried as hell. She didn't like to talk about her worries, but they lurked, always. And she was a terrible liar.

She'd finally fallen asleep, and then she was dead to the world. Damon woke up at eight, went downstairs for breakfast, came back to find her spread out across the bed, on her back, her belly sticking up in the air like a melon, the evidence of her pregnancy, refusing to be ignored. She'd kicked off the covers. He pulled a blanket back over her, then crawled in bed, beside her. He'd sat for hours, reading Gone with the Wind for the 19th time, until finally he crept out of bed as quietly as humanly possible, showered and then tiptoed around their bedroom as he got ready.

He was hoping to get out of here before she woke up.

"Damon?" she said, yawning, eyes bleary.

No luck.

"Hey babe," he said, trying to sound casual as he rooted around in his dresser for cufflinks.

Elena glared at him at him as she sat up and stretched. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere."

"Then come back to bed."

"I was just going to go down to the kitchen for a bite to eat. Maybe talk to Alaric. Try not to let him drink me under the table," he said as he began fastening his left cufflink.

In the mirror, he could see Elena rolling her eyes. "You're putting on cufflinks for Alaric?" she asked, incredulous.

"I value our friendship," Damon said, turning to give her his most charming smile. "Also, have you noticed how much that man drinks? Should I have a talk with him about that?"

Elena scrunched up her eyes as if she were confused. "You're worried about Ric drinking too much?"

He shrugged. "I've heard there's some sort of group people can go to. AAA or something?"

She laughed. "You, Damon Salvatore, who used to drink half a bottle of bourbon for breakfast, are worried about Ric, your drinking buddy, drinking too much? And you want to take him to an AA meeting? Two A's. AAA is the company that comes out to change your tire if you get a flat tire, by the way."

He considered this. "I can change my own tire. What kind of man doesn't know how to change his own tire? Or woman for that matter. Another thing about the 21st century that makes no sense. I should make a list. And anyway, why would they choose such similar names?"

Elena sighed. "I don't know, Damon. AA stands for Alcoholics Anonymous, that's why it's called that. But seriously. Do you really think he's an alcoholic?"

He threw up his hands. "I don't know, Elena. But I do know that he can drink an absurd amount of liquor without getting drunk, which means he must be drinking way more than anyone sees. I never thought of it when I was a vampire, because A: I didn't care. And B: I just didn't realize the magnificence of his tolerance. When I became human again, it's like my tolerance went back to where it was in 1864. Which is way, way less than Ric's. And here's the thing about vampire drinking — you almost never get really drunk, so it's easy to maintain a pleasant, non dysfunctional buzz. And, as you know, vampires are mostly drinking to quell the cravings or just avoid getting bored with the tedium of eternity. Yeah, maybe I was drinking to avoid my problems, like Ric is now, but it was different. … Also, I read this article in the New Yorker, and apparently alcoholism is a disease. It could even run in someone's family. Like diabetes."

Elena broke out laughing.

"What?"

"I just can't believe you're getting swayed by magazine articles. But really, it's sweet that you care so much."

Damon grinned. "So I can go talk to him?"

She shook her head.

He stopped grinning and glared at her.

"Damon, you can tell me what you're up to," she said, looking tired but determined. When he said nothing, she tried to get out of bed, but seemed to be stuck, unable to get free of the soft mattress. He almost laughed, but she gave him a look like she was going to kill him if so much as a chuckle escaped from his lips. He moved toward her to help, but she snapped, "I can do it, dammit!" After a minute of struggling, she hoisted herself out of bed. Oh man, she was looking really pregnant now.

She was seven months along.

"No one is going to be confused about whether you're pregnant or not," Damon said with a smirk.

Elena gasped and walked over to him, more slowly than she used to walk, one hand on her lower back as she slapped him upside the head with the other hand. "You're not supposed to say that!"

"What? I didn't say you don't look beautiful. You look downright gorgeous," he said, and he meant it. The belly didn't detract from her natural, effortless beauty. It added to it. He cupped his hands around her face, kissing her gently on the lips. Her belly pressed into him, keeping him from being able to pull her against him like he used to. Everything about her was rounder these days, her belly, her breasts, even her face. But she was more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.

As she pulled away from the kiss, she stayed close to him, her hands on his shoulders. She looked him straight in the eye and asked, "What are you up to?"

"Why do I have to be up to something?"

"You're going somewhere," she said, her voice serious. "And it has nothing to do with Ric."

He sighed. "Fine. There's a Council meeting."

Elena's eyes widened. "You got an invite?"

He shook his head. "I'm crashing. Again. Donovan conveniently forgot to mention it to me. Again. But Lindsay Fell told me."

Elena laughed. "She still trying to sleep with you?"

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Not my fault the ladies think I'm irresistible. Don't worry though. She's not my type."

Another slap.

Damon grabbed her hand. "And, I talk about you to a nauseating degree every time I see her, to try to get her to take a damned hint," he said in a rush. "So don't worry your cute little pregnant self about Lindsay Fell."

"Okay," she said.

"Great."

"But I'm coming to the Founder's Council with you, Damon," she said.

Damon groaned. "Not great."

"I'm a founder too, you know," she said.

"Well, I'm an actual founder."

"Would you like me to explain that fact to the Council?" she asked him with a pointed look.

He sighed, pulling away. "You can't come, Elena. I don't want you around that many people. What if something happens?" he said, referring to the attacks she had when the baby had a vision.

"I've gotten good at hiding it," she told him.

"I really don't want that many people seeing you. I just don't think it's safe."

Elena got a steely look in her eyes. She looked like she was about to launch into some kind of impassioned speech, and Damon knew that if he didn't relent, she'd argue so hard that he'd wind up missing the meeting. And he really needed to know what Matty Blue Eyes was hiding from him.

###

Elena and Damon slipped into Lindsay Fell Washington's house, without even knocking. The idiot girl had left her door unlocked. The front room was deserted. They could hear fervent, not so hushed voices coming from a room towards the back of the house. The Council meeting must be in full swing, already.

"I never knew how great it was to be able to walk into someone's house without being invited in," Elena whispered to Damon.

He grinned, murmuring, "You have no idea how annoying magic thresholds were to deal with for a century and a half. Lots of awkward sort-of-entrances. Especially at first. And for some reason, compulsion doesn't work unless you get them outside. I've never understood how that part works."

They crept through the ostentatiously decorated parlor, full of civil war era artifacts and bad American folk art. Damon pointed at a rifle on the wall, which had a plaque underneath claiming the gun as Robert E. Lee's. "Robert E. Lee never used that gun," he whispered, disparagingly. "We didn't have anything that nice back then. That's a turn of the century piece."

Elena stifled a giggle.

As they headed towards the voices, Damon placed a hand on her back and leaned towards her. "You sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yes. Stop asking me that," she snapped, trying to walk as quickly and effortlessly as she could. She wasn't exactly waddling. Well, maybe she was a tiny bit. Her center of balance was just so … off. She'd gained 22 pounds in the past seven months, a fact she felt too embarrassed to mention to Damon. Not that he didn't know she was huge. Elena sighed and sucked in her stomach. It did nothing other than make it even more difficult to breathe, so she let it go.

They reached a closed door. Damon swung it open. Always with the sense of drama and ceremony. She glanced at his face. He was grinning wickedly. He loved making a scene, and he loved upsetting people who he didn't like.

There were about a dozen people in the room, some sitting, some standing. Matt was standing at the front of the room, giving some sort of speech, in the middle of a sentence. He stopped talking abruptly as they entered the room. His mouth hung open, and he looked like a child who'd been caught doing something very naughty.

"Elena!" Cynthia Fell shouted, delighted. "I'd heard you were expecting, but I didn't know how far along you were." This woman had been her third grade teacher.

Elena smiled shyly.

"Take my seat, sweetheart," said a man with gray windswept hair and a kind smile. He looked familiar, sitting there in his t-shirt and jeans, much more casually dressed than anyone else at the Council meeting. Her eyes widened as she realized who he was.

"Mr. Forbes," she said, moving to take the seat he was offering. She wished she could turn down his offer, but her feet were killing her. She carefully lowered herself onto the sofa, which was lower and plusher than she would have liked. Damon perched beside her on the arm of the sofa. She whispered to him, "He's Caroline's uncle. Bill Forbes's brother. Kind of estranged from the family."

Damon frowned at the man, as if he found him suspect.

"I don't think we've met," the man said, reaching out to shake Damon's hand. "I'm Wally Forbes." Yes, she was right.

"Damon Salvatore," Damon said, returning the handshake, keeping his voice neutral.

"Any relation to Zach?"

Damon nodded. "He was my uncle."

"We were in school together. I heard he left town, and then someone got word that he had died?" Wally Forbes pressed on.

Damon looked solemn as he said, "It was a car crash. A great loss. … But in any event, that was years before Matt Donovan took over the Founder's Council without telling me. … Donovan, didn't you promise to tell me the next time there was a meeting? Weren't paying attention in our last little chat?"

Matt just stared at him, open-mouthed, before glancing at Elena. As if she was going to intervene. She raised her eyebrows and gave Matt a pointed look. "Not helping you out here, Matt. You didn't tell me either." She placed a hand on her belly. The baby was kicking. Roughly.

Matt swallowed hard before saying, "I told Jeremy. I thought, um, you know."

Elena glanced around the room, not seeing her brother. "Well, if he were here, I'd tell him he should have told me too."

Damon held a hand up. "Whatever. Just tell us why you called a meeting, and we'll try not to kill you later."

"What the hell, man!" Matt snapped. "You guys left town, and excuse me for not realizing that you cared about seats on the Council." He sighed and handed some papers to a Lockwood, who passed them to Elena and Damon.

Elena flipped through the comprehensive list of car crashes on the stretch of Main Street where the clock tower was. Damon began lecturing Matt on the importance of not creating a paper trail, and how he shouldn't be making handouts in case someone not on the Council got ahold of them. Elena closed her eyes for a second. She felt weary of all things supernatural.

Matt yelled at Damon, telling him to stop being a dick. Elena opened her eyes, seeing how tired her old friend/first boyfriend/first lover looked. Also how very tired of fighting with Damon he seemed to be.

Matt started explaining about the latest car crash. The impetus for their current meeting. There'd been no meetings for three weeks, because no one had discovered anything new, up until now you could argue that they were just ordinary accidents.

But on Tuesday it had gotten weird.

"Wait," Elena said, "You're saying the car was floating?"

Matt sighed. "I'm saying two pedestrians said the car was floating as it ran into the clock tower. It was two in the morning. One of the pedestrians was a drunk high school student who is now getting extra visits with the school counselor. But —"

"But the other pedestrian was me," Wally Forbes said with a wry smile. "And I don't drink."

Elena took this in. She examined Caroline's uncle's face, trying to figure out if he'd really seen something.

All of a sudden, a familiar feeling overtook her. Like she was floating. Like the world was slowing down. Elena gulped as she saw the crash, as she watched a Toyota Corolla levitate half a foot off the ground before it spun out of control and hit the tower.

She dropped her face from Wally's, looking intently at her lap, trying to hide the fact that anything strange was happening to her.

The baby kicked, hard. Elena stroked her belly, hoping to soothe the little girl. God, it felt like the baby had eight feet, that's how much she was kicking. Was she trying to get Elena's attention? Elena didn't feel worry or fear now, not from the baby at least. This was a different kind of flurry inside her. Excitement? Yes. The baby was excited. Maybe even happy.

What the hell?

"Elena?" Wally asked. "Are you okay?"

She smiled weakly. "Just the baby kicking. She's an active little thing. Maybe she'll play soccer."

Several people laughed kindly. A Lockwood woman, sitting on the couch at Elena's left, patted her knee and said, "I've been there, honey. Just hang in there."

Elena smiled gratefully.

Lindsay Fell Washington cleared her throated loudly. "Can I get you something, Elena?" she asked. "A club soda? Saltines?" Her voice was far too bright, her friendliness so fake it seemed cartoonish.

Elena shook her head. Looking at Damon, who seemed genuinely worried, she grinned and said, "Damon, I'm fine. Calm down. You try having a baby live inside you." Mild laughter. Once everyone settled down she said, "Matt, you have anything else for us, besides flying cars? Because, I, for one, am okay with flying cars. The ones that don't hit buildings at least. Back to the Future promised me flying cars."

Matt laughed. It was good to see him laugh. But then his face got serious again as he began talking about witches. He had a source who had him that two witches from out of town had arrived in town within the last two weeks, saying they were drawn to the area for reasons they didn't understand. He had clearly been talking to Bonnie.

"Three witches," Damon whispered to her. "And what the hell is he giving Bonnie's intel to these idiots?"

Elena shook her head, whispering, "Five." She'd run into Bonnie as she'd rooted around in the Salvatore kitchen for something healthy she could eat in the car on the way to Council meeting, before settling on chocolate Poptarts. As she placed her hand on her belly, the baby kicked, as if agreeing with her count. Of course, if she were being honest about witches new to town, she'd have to include her own unborn child, wouldn't she?

Damon gave her a quizzical look. "Two more showed up this morning," Elena explained under her breath.

She looked back at Matt, trying to figure out what game he was playing. And wondering if he realized that he was putting Bonnie and these newcomer witches in danger.

Matt passed out more sheets of paper. Elena glanced at the page passed to her by the Lockwood woman. The heading on the top said, "Animal Attacks." Four people dead in the last two weeks. Two locals. Two campers from out of town. Elena had heard nothing of this. She really needed to get out more. All over the room, Council members sucked in breath. The tension was palpable.

Damon was grumbling about a paper trail as Elena said, "I'm less okay with vampires draining people in the woods."

"Vampires?" Lindsay shrieked. "We can't know for sure that it's vampires."

"Puncture wounds on the neck. All four bodies drained of blood. Completely drained," Matt said.

"Maybe it's a mountain lion this time?" Lindsay said hopefully.

"There are no mountain lions in our woods," Matt explained. "That's just a story we tell the general population."

"A bear then," Lindsay said, her voice insistent, frightened.

Elena started to laugh. Lindsay might be a few years older than her, but she had clearly never been part of Council business before. Her naïveté wasn't charming. It was just stupid. Damon elbowed Elena as she told the socialite, "A bear would chomp all over those people. It wouldn't just suck blood neatly out of their carotid arteries. Animal attack means vampire attack, in Mystic Falls at least."

Damon put his hand on Elena's shoulder, his touch gentle and protective, as he told Lindsay, "Bears do tend to chomp rather than suck."

Wally Forbes spoke up. "And I know Mary Honeycutt's mother. That girl and her friend weren't attacked in the woods. They were attacked behind the movie theatre. Her mother thinks someone lured them back there. They were both sixteen."

The room became quiet, solemn. Matt instructed them to flip to the last page of the handout, which held a photo of two teenage girls and a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties. The man had sandy blond hair, brown eyes, and a mischievous smile. He was giving bunny ears to both girls. Damon's hand tensed on Elena's shoulder. It was just a for a second. She glanced at him. His facial expression was completely neutral, not letting on that anything was wrong. But something was wrong. She knew it.

As the Council debated who this man might be, it became clear that no one knew anything. He looked a little like a lot of strangers, maybe, possibly a new bartender at the Grill, but that bartender was a good ten years older than the mystery man.

After several minutes listening to frenzied discussion, Damon cleared his throat. "Donovan, this isn't exactly evidence. It's a photo on a girl's iPhone. It could be anyone. And this was clearly taken during the day. And seriously, why would a vampire allow himself to be photographed with victims he planned on killing later?"

Matt laughed. As Elena and everyone else stared at him, Matt just lost it, almost doubling over in giddy laughter.

Lindsay jumped into the conversation, with the eager pride of someone who thinks she knows something. "Come on, Matt! Damon's right. Vampires don't walk in the day."

"Oh yes they do," Matt said, pulling himself together.

Damon glared at him. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But it's rare. We don't know how it happens."

"Daylight rings," Matt said, his voice even, so even, as Damon glared at him. "They wear daylight rings," he told the Council. "Sometimes it's a necklace or bracelet. Look for someone new to town with gaudy jewelry."

Damon let out an exasperated sigh, muttering, "That's the ticket. Let's profile random people based on gaudy jewelry."

Elena narrowed her eyes, wondering what her old friend was up to. Didn't he care that he might out Caroline? And seriously, what was up with Damon trying to discount Matt's picture?

###

After reluctantly leaving Elena behind to get the real scoop from Matt, Damon drove home. He took the long way so that he could drive past the clock tower. No car crashes to witness. But his hands did tingle as he drove past. He told himself it was just because he couldn't look at that building without thinking of Stefan, without thinking of his idiot brother sacrificing himself for Damon, so Damon could have a life with the girl they both knew Stefan still loved. That must be it. Nothing witchy.

Two unfamiliar cars were parked outside the boarding house. Well, the beat-up Camry looked familiar, but it couldn't be. It wouldn't be. Dammit, this day sucked.

As he walked inside, Ric called out to him, "Damon, you've got visitors."

Damon sighed as Ric rushed over. His friend murmured. "One of them is that guy who works for you, with the constant shorts-wearing. He's in the kitchen."

"Has he seen anything weird?"

Ric shook his head.

"Cause he's on vervain," Damon said, already tired of all these situations. "I've got everyone I work for drinking it in their coffee. So if anybody does anything stupid, we'll have to lock him up for a few days before Caroline can compel him."

"Got it," Ric said. "He's seen nothing. I've got a dozen kids who I've had to stop from practicing magic though. Also Jeremy was in the middle of demonstrating how to decapitate a vampire, to some of the older kids. We had to clean that up before we let him in. Caroline insisted on giving him a tour of the grounds. So now everybody is supposedly doing math and reading Shakespeare."

"Shakespeare? Your oldest kids are ten."

Ric mulled this over for a minute before shrugging. "Everyone should read Shakespeare. When did you read him?"

Damon thought for a minute. "You know, I was 11 or 12. But back then people didn't think kids were idiots." He paused for a moment, realizing that he'd been ignoring an important detail. "You said two people. Where's the other one?"

Ric smiled grimly, muttering, "That's the one you should be worried about. That one couldn't get in without an invitation. Which I didn't offer. After an awkward moment, he said he'd wander around the grounds."

Damon found Sajen sitting at the Salvatore kitchen table, wearing a t-shirt and denim cut-offs and staring open-mouthed at his surroundings. At least it was almost warm enough for his outfit.

Standing in the doorway, Damon cleared his throat. "What are you doing here, Sajen?"

Sajen jumped at his voice. "Damon. Hey. I was just, um … Are you rich or something?"

He laughed. "My family made a fortune in logging. And cotton. And railroads."

"Just that?" Sajen said nervously.

"Well, stocks of course," Damon said. "Bonds. And for a while in the nineteenth century we owned a mortuary. Those are always lucrative."

"But your apartment. It's not like this. Like, at all," Sajen said, brows raised. "It's kind of a dump."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Elena wanted us to be normal. Like there's any such thing."

"So, dude," Sajen said. "It's been two months. Everyone's getting worried."

"About what?"

"If you're okay. If Elena's okay. I mean, it's kind of weird that you just left in the middle of the night and you haven't come back. It's been two months."

Damon stared at the bespectacled man, confused at his concern. Why should any of this matter to him? Or to random bartenders for that matter?

At that moment, Bonnie wandered into the kitchen. "Bon Bon!" Damon shouted in relief. "You remember Sajen?"

Bonnie nodded, and then proceeded to rummage around the kitchen. "Yeah. I helped you hire him. … Did somebody eat the last banana?"

Damon smirked and said, "I'd blame Elena for that one. Have you noticed how much that girl can eat lately? And how fast she shoves it in her mouth? Unladylike, if you ask me."

Bonnie walked over to him and smacked his shoulder. "I hope you haven't said that to her face!"

Damon rolled her eyes. "Uh, no, I'm not an idiot. But speaking of idiots, I have one wandering around the grounds. Could you keep Sajen company for a bit?"

Bonnie smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Of course." Whispering to Damon, she said, "Alaric told me. Be careful."

"I'm always careful."

Bonnie gave him a pointed look. "You're never careful. And you don't know what it's like to take a vampire on as a human."

###

Damon found his mystery guest staring at an old maple tree on the edge of the Salvatore land. Sandy blond hair. Broad shoulders. Somehow managing to look cocky even though he was just standing with him back to Damon. Without turning around, the man said, "Hello, old friend."

Damon's whole body stiffened. This didn't make sense. It hadn't made sense at the Council meeting. And it made even less sense now. But then he turned around, and Damon felt this absurd sense of relief flowing through his body. Without meaning to, he rushed to Tommy and threw his arms around him. Tommy laughed as he returned the hug. "I thought you were dead," Damon said as he pulled away.

Tommy grinned. "I thought you were dead. I mean, there was a rumor going around that Stefan killed you in 1912. When he went off the rails."

Damon laughed. "He had plenty of chances. Never did it. But the fire in 1915?"

"Wasn't me."

Damon nodded. "You kill any teenagers in Mystic Falls lately?"

His friend shook his head. Damon eyed him carefully, looking for any sign that he was lying. He knew this man. He should be able to tell.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Tommy said, "You know Mary Honeycutt was a descendent of mine? I never eat off the family tree."

Damon nodded, considering.

"What about campers?"

"Do you know how bad people taste when they're all sweaty and unwashed?"

"You've just described every meal I had in the nineteenth century. So, no."

"Well, try it sometime. Campers are gross."

Damon wanted to believe Tommy.

He'd turned Tommy two years after his own transition. He'd heard that his oldest friend was dying of consumption, which made him think of his mother, of how much he wished he could have saved her. So he'd visited Tommy in the middle of the night, offering him an out. Tommy had refused at first. He had a wife and baby son. But a few months later, Damon received a letter begging him to return. Once again, he crept in Tommy's window in the dead of night. He fed his blood to his best friend before suffocating the fragile man with a pillow.

Whatever Tommy's sins, Damon was to blame. And this seemed sloppy. Either someone new or someone trying to send a message. Tommy was neither new nor diabolic.

So he decided to play nice. To give him the benefit of the doubt.

They spent an hour talking about old times. Damon wouldn't invite Tommy in, which pissed his friend off, but there were a lot of people, and irritating children, to consider. Damon brought out a couple chairs and a bottle of good bourbon, which they passed between them as they told stories of growing up in Mystic Falls before the war. Damon tried to make it seem like he was drinking more than he was. And he tried not to let his heart race.

Tommy was giving Damon hell about a girl he'd followed around like a puppy when they were fourteen, when Matt's truck pulled up right beside them. Elena opened the passenger door, then began struggling to climb out of the truck. Damon realized his cover was about to be blown. He'd been trying to conceal from Tommy his humanness — they might be friends but Damon didn't want such a big weakness to be known. There wasn't an obvious way to tell if someone was human or vampire, without vervain. Vampire hearts beat. Their skin wasn't absurdly cold to the touch. But if he was supposed to be a vampire, a pregnant wife was going to be difficult to explain.

When Damon saw Elena, he just froze. Instead of rushing to help her, he stared at her huge belly and felt the world spinning.

Elena continued to struggle until Matt threw his door open and rushed over to help Damon's wife.

Tommy leaned towards Damon and said, "You know, it's weird, but that pregnant woman looks like Katherine Pierce."

Fuck.

Damon said nothing.

Elena waddled toward them. Matt trailed after her. Both probably recognized Tommy from the picture on that idiot girl's phone.

"Damon," Elena said with a fake smile. "Care to introduce your friend?"

Tommy raised his eyebrows as he said, "And who might this lovely lady be?"

Damon said nothing.

Matt laughed for reasons passing understanding. Then he strode forward to extend his hand to Tommy. "I'm Sheriff Donovan," he said with an air of importance.

"Tom. Old friend of Damon's."

Matt frowned, saying, "How old?"

"Oh, I don't know," Tommy said carelessly. "He got me drunk for the first time when I was ten. And I never would have learned to swim if he hadn't pushed me into the river and promised me that I wouldn't sink. He had to fish me out of the river, of course, but it got me over the hump."

Elena's eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together in delight. "Really? I've never met anybody who knew Damon that early. Except for Stefan, of course."

"And you are?" Tommy said, clearly curious as hell.

"I'm his wife. Elena. Elena Gilbert. I never changed my name," Elena said in a rush.

Tommy stared at Elena's prominent belly, it's bulgy-ness barely contained by her red blouse and maternity jeans. Tommy raised his brows. "And who exactly knocked you up?"

Fuck.

Elena sucked in her breath, as if she'd just realized what she'd done. She looked at Damon with an expression of utter helplessness.

Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck.

Tommy turned to Damon. Damon smiled weakly. Tommy frowned. Elena put both cradled her belly with both arms . Matt stepped closer to her, moving a hand dangerously close to his gun.

Tommy gave Matt a predatory smile.

Damon placed a hand on his friend's forearm. "Easy," he whispered.

"Whose baby is that?" Tommy whispered. "And since when do you go around marrying humans?"

"It's a long story," Damon said with a sigh. He wondered if he could get Caroline to call Klaus. Maybe an Original could compel Tommy to leave and never come back.