This one's shorter, but hopefully you will enjoy it. I'm hoping the plot will pick up next chapter properly.

Chapter XIII: Consequences

Damon closes the door behind him without slamming it and is surprised to discover that he is still relatively calm. As the final click sounds and he sees Caroline's tear-stained cheeks and Bonnie embracing her, an irrational anger takes hold and he storms towards them. He waits as Caroline stands and holds her eyes to the floor as if afraid of him and the anger turns to fury. He lifts her chin up with one hand, his mind swarmed with thoughts of Ric attacking Liz and blood dripping from her face and pain. She still doesn't look at him though and he sees Bonnie standing as well, her hands twitching at her sides. She doesn't know what he'll do next – he's too angry, too out of control he thinks – and he can't really blame her for it, he doesn't know what to do.

"Damon?" her voice doesn't tremble as he had expected, but her nose if stuffy and her words come out muffled and he curses his brother a thousand times over for this, for making her fear him. He tries to calm down, he honestly does, but he is stuck. The fire in his veins too hot, the poison in his mind too intoxicating, he can't move. Caroline lifts her eyes, blue to blue meeting in a clash he didn't see coming. He is pushed into motion by it. His hand falls from her chin, limply to his side now, and he stares as she takes a few hiccupping breaths, her eyes filling up with salty water once more. He snaps, fury to rage, and his arms wrap around her, holding on tightly for dear life as she collapses into him, burrowing her face in his shoulder and exhaling in relief. Bonnie enters the bathroom.

"Damon?" she asks again, her tone still confused and her words still muffled, now by his shirt as well.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" she pulls back, gazing into his eyes as if she can see his thoughts, maybe she can. He shakes his head, his throat suddenly blocked by ... something and it takes everything he has not to fall apart into her arms as she did. She nods, more tears falling down her cheeks, and hugs him tighter still. He inhales her familiar scent and his mind quiets down, thoughts of sunlight and laughter and her catching him as he fell, filling it. Rage mellows down to fury which disappears into anger and finally it turns into a sort of bone-deep exhaustion. Caroline lets go and steps back, guiding him to the bed. She smiles shakily at him and leaves the room. Bonnie returns, ready for sleep.

"So he knows now." She whispers when she sits down next to him. Damon's head lifts to watch her, involuntary and he frowns, as if not having heard her. Eventually he jerks into a nod. She sits there silently for a few minutes, her hand having reached his and holding it. She ignores the ache of his hold. When he rises, he isn't sure what for, but he allows her to take control of the actions.

Bonnie coerces him into standing in front of her, pulling at his hands until he is there, looking down. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, like the sky before a storm, and she worries for him. Her hands lift slowly to his shirt, fingers working around a button, pushing it out of its place and then another and another until they are all opened, her green eyes never leaving his. She has to stand when she pushes the shirt from his shoulders, her hands brushing against flesh and she feels his muscles tremble beneath her touch. The shirt falls to the floor, numb. She watches it, her eyes following the movement with an odd sort of attachment. Bonnie turns her gaze back to him once the movement passes and asks silently whether she can continue.

Damon doesn't seem to understand her questioning glance initially, but then he lifts a hand to her cheek, angling his head and falling forward, the difference in heights clear in the gesture. His lips catch on hers, but they don't really move until he feels her gasp as his hand trails down her neck softly. Her lips open, wet, warm breath passing from her into him and he pushes closer, deeper, flesh sliding over flesh and tongue caressing tongue. Bonnie wraps a hand around his back and the other fists into his hair as he pours all his feeling into the kiss, the fear and sadness and anger, the love and happiness and gratefulness, the pain and the joy. They all flow through her and she realizes he isn't going to last as his hands tremble around her and his legs nearly give out. This day has left him exhausted more than he'd thought possible.

"Damon?" she mumbles, her lips meeting his with each sound. He stops trying to pull her back in. She shifts them around and pushes him gently on the bed, arranges him until he's laying on it properly. Then the witch takes hold of his belt, undoes it and pulls it open. She pops the button from his pants and pulls the zipper down. He is already half asleep when she struggles to pull the jeans off his legs, but thankfully he is awake enough to rise his hips to aid her. Bonnie throws the pants near his shirt and levitates them both on a chair in a corner as she slips next to him. She watches as his breath deepens and strokes his cheek. He smiles in his sleep, lips curving softly, and she leans up to brush her own mouth over his. Even in sleep he knows to open his mouth and pushes harder. She lays her head on his chest and listens to his heart as she lets consciousness fall away.

"Stefan!"Elena screams, sitting up on the bed, sweat falling down her forehead and down her neck. She's breathing hard and fast, chest rising and falling rapidly. She's had another nightmare, another vision. She uses one hand to steady her breath, pushing on her chest in hopes of calming herself down.

Brown eyes scan the room, but there is no sign of the older vampire and she waits to see if he has heard her. When nothing happens for a few minutes, Elena tries to get up but finds she's unable to move her legs. She panics, throws the sheet off of her and checks to see if there is anything wrong physically. There is no wound, no mark to even suggest a problem. She bends at the middle, dragging her upper half forward and touches her right leg. She grasps the shin tightly, massaging up and down, but all she feels is a ghost of a sensation. Soon the more she rubs the more she feels. Prickling starts up in her toes, burning hot as it travels upward, reaching her knee. Elena remembers when she used to cut off circulation to her hand from sitting on it while sleeping and experiencing a similar reaction. She doesn't understand how that can happen with her as a vampire. She switches legs, starting with her calf and the same itchy feeling spreads through the limb. She sits on the bed for a long while until she is confident enough to stand. Her feet hurt as she pushes onto them to walk and her thighs tremble with exertion, the kind she has only ever encountered after a hard cheerleading exercise.

She walks downstairs slowly, hanging onto the banister and praying she won't fall, brushing her hair away from her face and neck, feeling the strand sticking to the wet skin. She is calm now, watching the door to Bonnie and Damon's room, her eyes filling with tears as a yawn escapes her mouth. Her heart aches at the thought of Damon though, seeing his blue eyes, pained and shocked during the night of the Ball, seeing his face crumble and fall when she tells him they can no longer be friends. She remembers how angry he was, how hurt the days following their fight, she remembers the fights that continued. Her brown eyes snap from the door and focus back on the stairs, watching her feet stepping down, one at a time. Her vision swirls around herself, her head pounding. She hangs on harder to the banister.

"I shouldn't have told you!" Caroline's voice rings through the dizzy spell and Elena stops to listen.

"Yes, you did. I needed to know. But you could have come for me, Care!" her husband's voice is desperate, his words shaky. She can read the anguish in him as well as she would her own.

"You don't call me that! And come get you?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I tried, Stefan! I called you every day for months! You didn't care enough to keep your phone. How the hell was I supposed to know where you had gone? Ask Bonnie for a locator spell? We were supposed to be friends! Friends don't find each other with spells!" Caroline answered, her voice a loud whisper, but the brunette heard her just as well. Elena winced, realizing the blonde had a point. Both Stefan and she had abandoned their friends and family when they left, what neither had thought of then, was how much it would affect them.

"Caroline... I..."

"You what?!" the younger vampire interrupted, her voice rising in volume.

"How was I supposed to know?! I didn't hear him, Caroline! And I don't know why!" Stefan argued.

"Suuure!" the young woman scoffed and walked away from the staircase. Elena shakes her head. Even if Caroline was right about some things, there was no reason to attack Stefan like this. If she had a problem with them leaving she should take it up with her. It was her idea to leave after all. "He screamed for you, Stefan! He screamed!"

"Maybe it was a spell that prevented it." The brunette could no longer remain silent. As she spoke the two other turned suddenly toward her. Caroline's blue eyes darkened in anger at the sight of the other woman.

"Why did you then?" Elena could only shrug. She didn't know. She wasn't even sure she had heard Damon scream. "Elena, no offense, but can you leave?" Caroline continued, her fists closing at her sides. She turns away from the married couple, goes to the fridge and takes out a blood bag. She is seconds away from exiting the kitchen when Elena replies.

"If you've got a problem with me, tell me to my face."

"You don't want me to, trust me." The blonde responds, through gritting teeth and without moving to face the other.

"Yes, I actually do." Elena is in front of her now, brown eyes fiery with anger and righteousness. Caroline bites into her cheek hard, enough to draw blood to stop the hurtful words swarming through her mind from coming out. Elena doesn't let up; she gets closer, putting herself directly in Caroline's face. Stefan remains in the background somewhere, not saying anything. Even he can feel the charged atmosphere surrounding the two women.

"Elena..." she cautions.

"Come on. I want to know what exactly I've done wrong." The brunette pushes, crossing her arms across her chest, raising her head, jaw sticking out.

"Besides leaving us? Abandoning us? Riding off into the sunset with your boyfriend and forgetting we even exist anymore? What do you want me to say Elena? That you hurt us when you left? Yes you did. You know what else hurt? I would have been alright with you leaving for your own protection, but all threats were gone. You just threw aside a lifetime of memories, a friendship that was supposed to last forever, your words, all for a guy that, want to believe it or not, placed you in danger. I loved you, you were my best friend, I would have died for you. I thought at the very least you cared about me." Carline's voice rose higher, her eyes tearing up until the wet, salty droplets fell down her face, lined her lips and slid further down, disappearing underneath her collar. Elena was silent, her own eyes filling up with water.

"You have no idea what happened to me a few month ago! You have no idea what I had to go through! I needed my family because it hurt. God, Elena, you have no idea how much it hurt. You don't know what Damon went through either. Sure, he told you Stefan, but you can't understand how painful it was to be there, to see him struggle every second to just open his eyes in the morning. You want to know what happened to us while you were gone? You 'need' to know, Stefan? You don't have the right! You lost that when you left." Caroline's breath was coming in sharp burst of air, her chest heaving with exertion. Her cheeks reddened with anger and her eyes were bloodshot by now, tears never ending it seemed. Stefan hung his head is shame, he agreed with her. They had been wrong. Elena bit her lip and closed her eyes, fighting the tears and losing horribly as they fell.

"Care... I'm so sorry." The woman whispered.

"Well, I'm not. At least I now know who matters. You know why you are wondering what happened to us this year? Because you weren't there. That's what you've done wrong. That's –"

"Love, maybe you should come help me instead." The British accent broke the rant, blue eyes darting to her lover. Klaus was holding on tightly to the banister, pale and his arm trembled. He was still weak. Caroline bit her tongue on her next words and walked away from Stefan and Elena.

"Caroline!" Elena clasps her wrist. "I had another vision. It was about Rebekah." She continues, gazing at Klaus as well. "Esther is going to take her soon, if it hasn't already happened." Caroline is silent and stationary for a few minutes. She then swiftly walks up the stairs, takes the hybrids hand in hers and leads them both back inside their bedroom. Elena falls to her knees, sobs wrecking her body. Stefan joins her, holding her as he himself struggles to calm.

Olive skin in pale candlelight, soft uttered words in an empty chamber, dark eyes flashing pure white as the ritual grows stronger. She remembers all this as she recites her protective spells, her mother's power a force to be reckoned. She is ready for the next ingredient when the flames burst blue and fall to ashes. She curses, slamming her open palm onto the hard cold stone she sits on. Her palm hurts, the stone now splattered with the blood seeping from the cut.

"No luck yet?" his voice is grating, overwhelming her senses and wrapping her mind like a vice. She shrugs, not wanting to give him the satisfaction once more. He is drawing power from her, stealing it. Of course her own Magick would revolt against the abuse it is facing. She stares into his eyes, mismatched green and brown and shudders as he grins. She hates this, him. She needs him.

"I'll get it done, don't you worry, Mon chérie." She is sarcastic, her words poison, dripping with acid. He grins wider, sitting down besides her and snatching her hand in his. She watches repulsed as he licks the blood clean and spits it somewhere behind them. She wants to slap him. "Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?

"Worry you not." He answers, flippant and waving her away with a hand.

"What of the witch?" she queries next, licking her lips. She can't understand the witch. Then again Esther does resemble her mother, both wanting to kill their children.

"She is with the wolves." She also doesn't understand why the werewolves were needed. But it is not her place to question it. All she wants is her revenge against the hybrid. So if she must wait for a while longer, bide her time and work with a dumb human and a deranged witch, so be it. She will win in the end and they all will taste her fury. The English have a saying. "Hell hath no fury for a woman scorned" it says. She stands and dusts herself off, leaving him behind. If he thinks he can control her… well, we shall see, won't we?

"There was…" she begins her tune. "… a house, in New Orleans…" she continues, her voice echoing through the cemetery. She smiles as she sings, her mind flashing memories of her mother – harsh words and heavy palms – of her lover – bleeding, crying before Klaus Mikaelson as the hybrid tore into him – and the songs ends softly, with a tear and a whispered "... They call the Rising Sun, and it's been the ruin of many a poor girls…" the tear slides down and crashes onto the earth, the sound loud in her mind. "And God, I know I'm one."