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CHAPTER 11:
DEATH'S DOOR
Legacy (noun): something that someone has achieved that continues to exist after they die
"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome."
"Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you."
"I have been abandoned by both life and death: neither would take me."
"I'm only human, and I bleed when I fall down. I'm only human, and I crash and I break down."
When Stefan stepped into his room and found it empty, he thought nothing of it, wrongfully assuming Elena was simply exploring the rest of the Boarding House. Coffee mugs in hand, he turned to leave in search for the brunette when a familiar glint caught his peripheral, introducing a knot in the pit of his stomach. Ditching the drinks, he flashed to the bedroom table, horror filling his eyes little by little at, not only the vervain-infused necklace he had given Elena as a form of protection, but the tintype photograph he kept of Katherine. Making matters worse, the fact that the necklace deliberately sat on the photograph transmitted Elena's message loud and clear – discovering she's a carbon copy of his manipulative ex-vampire-girlfriend prompted the belief that she's merely a substitute for Katherine, hence eliciting feelings of betrayal and hurt.
He never wanted Elena to find out this way…
Furious at himself for being so careless, for letting Elena into his room without ensuring the photograph was well-hidden, Stefan clenched his hand into a ball and threw his fist forward, the crack of his knuckles breaking echoing in the room. The subsequent lance of pain failed to calm him, the urge to keep on punching the wall until it collapsed taking over. Shaking his head, Stefan splayed the cracked hand and flexed it, letting the bones reset themselves while he grabbed his phone with the other hand, punching in Elena's number in the blink of an eye.
It went straight to voicemail.
An amalgamation of frustrated exasperation grabbed ahold of him and he expelled a sigh, pressing a closed fist to his forehead, a crowd of furrows decorating it. Ten seconds passed before he redialed, this time choosing to leave a message on her voicemail, "Elena. It's Stefan. I know that this picture must have confused you. But I can explain. I need to explain. So, please, when you get this, call me."
No sooner had he sent it, did his phone vibrate with a text message from Logan, inquiring after Snow. All frustration melted away to be replaced by intense guilt. Here he stood, concerned about Elena's feelings and on whether or not the disclosure created an expiry date for their relationship, and all the while, Snow's been missing, not a hide or hair detected since late afternoon. He may not have known Snow for very long, but one thing he did know, she would never ignore anyone's calls; not wanting to be the source of anyone's worry, Snow always made it a point to impart her whereabouts.
…Until now.
Quickly putting on a shirt, Stefan grabbed the jacket he absentmindedly left draped over the crest rail of a chair and rushed out of the Boarding House, fully intending on aiding in the search party for Snow. The addition of another vampire would make a hell of a difference as missing people in Mystic Falls didn't bode well, especially with, according to Logan, three new vampires in town.
On the other side of town, a disquieted Logan, who prided himself on his good looks, felt like pulling his hair out. They were nowhere close to finding his goddaughter. After apprising Liz and Richard of the situation, he wasted no time in leaving the school and searching the streets, the alleyways, the neighborhoods, and throughout his frenetic pursuit of Snow, he sought help from his witch contacts. A fat lot of good it did him… all Sophie said, was to sit tight and be patient and that help was on its way. What help? She didn't say. Be patient for what exactly? No elaboration whatsoever. If he were still human, Logan's blood pressure would've hit the roof at the witch's irritating response. 'Witches,' he scoffed inwardly, 'cryptic and vague the whole lot of 'em!'
Initially, upon his discovery that Snow's blood lacked a scent, while concerned about the reason as it wasn't a normal trait for a human to have, Logan eventually felt relief, his emotion shared by Stefan, both of them reassured that the anomaly would act as an advantage for the soft-spoken girl as no vampire on a bloodlust frenzy would be alerted to her presence or feel the urge to feed on her. Currently, however, it proved extremely disadvantageous, for if Snow possessed some sort of distinctive scent, Logan or Stefan could've easily located her, rendering the assembly of a search-party useless.
Agitated, he walked the deck of Wickery Bridge, not stopping in his tracks until he stood on its center. Phone out, he called Stefan for an update, then Liz, and lastly Richard. Nothing. Huffing out a sharp breath, Logan gripped the handrail in a vice grip, hazel orbs intent on the murky depths of the river below. The beautiful but deadly body of water was responsible for the deaths of Grayson and Miranda Gilbert, and for a moment… he couldn't help but think, if Miranda were here, if she were alive, if Death hadn't taken her early, would Snow be missing? After all is said and done, Miranda was the better godparent.
Dispelling the unnecessary contemplations, Logan snapped back to the present; Snow couldn't afford a brief spell of inattention. Refocusing on his phone, Logan dialed Snow again.
The distinction between his previous attempts and the current one was instantaneous. Instead of the drone ringing on the other end the only sound to attack his acute hearing, his auditory faculty was assaulted with a melodious ringtone, one that commenced simultaneously with the first ring in his ear. His heart performed a tiny leap as hope resonated, and with his enhanced eyesight, frantically scanned the vicinity. However, hope dimmed and his heart stood still once they connected with an immobile form laying face-first on the ground by the edge of the river bank.
Inhaling deeply, no sense of smell infiltrated his olfactory receptors.
Logan flashed over to the person's side, his blood running cold when he distinguished Snow amid a pool of blood. He staggered backward, for an earth-shattering second, stumped by all the blood. But that second was all it took for Logan to regain his bearings and he immediately crouched by her side. Unconscious and completely drenched in crimson, Snow's face no longer held a pristine ivory complexion, it was a shade of pale from blood loss and marred with congealed blood and a dark contusion on one side of her face that was beginning to swell.
"Snow, Snow! Oh, God, stay with me honey, stay with me, Snow!"
Feeling around for a pulse, hazel orbs burned with hellfire, darkening in unrestrained rage at the source of all the blood, the piercing, deep wound in her abdomen painting a pretty gruesome picture. Pushing back the murderous rage, he proceeded with his inspection, relieved at finding a faint fluttering in her neck. He promptly collected her in his arms, ensuring the jostling was to a minimum and called the hospital, ordering they have a gurney ready and for their best surgeon on standby. He then informed Liz to call of the search who, thankfully was with Richard and therefore, saved him a phone call – two birds one stone.
Knowing that, in comparison, vampire speed surpassed cars, even if all the lights happened to be green, Logan gathered Snow in his arms and covered the distance in record time, his enhanced agility allowing him to cover even more distance.
Arriving, covered in blood, he was immediately swarmed by medical personnel and Snow was quickly but gently deposited on the gurney. Devastated and close to tears, Logan was left to watch Snow get rolled into emergency surgery, the commotion in the background nothing but white noise to him. Going with the motions, Logan managed to make it to the waiting room, pick a seat and call Stefan, his voice barely audible and lacking any emotion.
"Christ! Please don't tell me that's all Snow's blood!" a sob-like shriek resonated throughout the drearily dull room.
Mechanically, Logan raised his gaze from the spotless tiles to see Richard and Carol. Blinking, Logan realized Stefan sat beside him and, apparently, had been for a while. Meeting Carol's red-rimmed eyes, her words snapping him from the daze he'd been under since Snow was wheeled away for surgery, Logan scrutinized his appearance, registering the ghastly sight he must make – hands caked in red, bloodstained clothes, hair in disarray, and a mixture of tears and blood smearing his face. Face forming a grimace, now fully aware of his goddaughter's body fluid coating him, he was itching to scrub every bit off him.
Taking note of his woebegone demeanor, Richard, for the first time since Logan pranced back into town on September, didn't regard him with anger, or sneer at him. The fact that it was Logan who found his niece – his sweet girl – erased any and all lingering disappointment. He did what everyone, what Stanley and Selene wanted, he stepped up big time. Approaching his hunched form and disregarding the blood, Richard placed a comforting hand on Logan's shoulder.
Sheriff Forbes joined them, a grimace on her face and tears shining in her eyes. Sensing the Sheriff needed some privacy to speak with the council members, Stefan excused himself to get coffee from the nearby vending machine and employed his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop.
"This wasn't a vampire attack, Logan. It was premeditated murder," Liz disclosed sadly, incapable of remaining objective, her professional front shattering the more they remained in the dark regarding Snow's fate. Extremely shaken up, it wasn't just her close relation to Snow Silverstone, who she considered a second daughter, but that the last time Mystic Falls dealt with a murderer, it was 1912, and usually, vampires were responsible for the occurrence of murders.
A vicious growl rumbled in Logan's throat, one that possessed the quality of a deadly predator. "I know, Liz. I'm the one who found her, remember! I saw the stab wound," he spat, fists clenching and unclenching. "It was vicious and deep. The perpetrator then tossed her off the bridge so that nobody could stumble across her body. The whole affair was professionally executed!"
Jaw tense, Liz quickly added, "It could be a random attack. Snow could've been in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Carol's hand flew forward to twist the sleeve of her husband's blazer in her bony grip. The color drained from Richard's face and his voice was taut with apoplectic anger, "Are you saying this is the work of a hitman?"
"I said no such thing. I'm just spitballing here and calling it like I see it," Logan retorted, both hands raised in a placating gesture. The last thing the Mayor needed on top of vampires returning to Mystic Falls, was some faceless, nameless hitman on the loose. Lacking grace, Liz slumped into the seat beside Logan, a hand carding through her short hair, "Who would want to kill a sweet girl like Snow? She doesn't have any enemies and everyone loves her fiercely…"
"Except that horrendous bitch Stanley married," Carol acerbically bit out, her voice cutting and tongue dripping with acid. Liz nodded in complete agreement, a furrow between her brows. "God!" the usually prim and proper woman shook her head in disbelief, her eyes heavenward. "I don't mean to speak ill of the dead, but… To this day, I still have trouble wondering what the Hell was going through his head when he looked at Lucille and decided she was worthy of being a Silverstone. I can't stand that hag."
Struggling to maintain his composure, Stefan, still subtly eavesdropping on the 'adults', bit his lower lip to prevent laughter. Never had he seen Carol Lockwood portray such raw emotion and utilize language 'improper for a lady of her standing'. However, his attention was promptly captured by the subtle exchange between Logan and the Mayor – at Carol's vicious harangue, the aforementioned duo traded a meaningful look…
Logan scowled and changed the subject, "We need to check the crime scene, have your deputies tape it the river bank off, Liz. Hopefully, the son of a bitch left a clue behind." Nodding, Liz smiled softly at Stefan, who decided it was safe to interrupt, balancing four paper cups of coffee.
"Thank you, Stefan." Taking a sip, Liz winced at the bland taste of hospital coffee, but nevertheless the four 'adults' continued to drink from their respective cup, in desperate need of the pick-me-up as it looked like it was going to be a very long night. "By any chance do you know where Damon is?" the Sheriff suddenly inquired.
The two vampires briefly exchanged eye contact, a hundred questions burning in Logan's. Stefan shook his head, lips forming a stern line at the thought of his volatile brother and his suspiciously strange absence. "He took off this morning, said something about business out of town," he lied convincingly.
Sighing, Carol and Liz phoned their respective child to inform them of Snow's situation while Stefan attempted to get in touch with both, Damon and Elena. All the while, Logan and Richard sat in complete silence, waiting on bated breath for the surgeon performing the operation on Snow to update them on her condition.
Another scowl adorned his face, encouraging the addition of a new set of lines on his forehead. From the moment he descended on the site of the crash and saved his brother's fair maiden from the evil villain before he swept her off her feet and into his grand convertible, driving into the sunset to Georgia, both their phones have been ringing nonstop! And yes, the level of irritation he had surpassed has prompted his sarcasm to intensify, not to mention made him a very cranky vampire.
A strangled scream bubbled in his throat, his mouth ejecting a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl as Elena's phone went off…again! He had literally lost count of the amount of types either of their phones came to life. He would answer, alas he was short on time, his patience barely holding on to a thread after that backstabbing bitch destroyed the necklace, and he was in absolutely no mood for his brooding little brother. Fact!
Indignant, Damon blasted on the radio.
Startled into consciousness, Elena jerked forward, almost hitting her head on the car ceiling. Doe eyes blown wide, she clutched at the armrest, her expression the epitome of confusion and for a while, she floundered in the passenger seat. A hand pressed to her temple, Elena squinted at the alien scenery, completely lost.
Taking morbid delight in her reaction and slight suffering, the vampire behind the wheel addressed her in a faux cheerful tone, "Morning, Sunshine." Registering the individual behind the familiar voice, the brunette whipped her head around to properly face him, only to wince at the sharp movement; emitting a pained moan, she pushed past it and attempted to glare at him. Key word, attempt. "Oh, am I annoying you? Good, then we can be annoyed together. It's only fair. After all, you know what they say – misery loves company," he splenetically delivered his rant, sarcasm bleeding into every word.
Pressing her index and middle fingers on her temples, Elena slowly, so as to not aggravate her apparent head injury, rearranged herself into a proper sitting position. "Someone's grouchy," she muttered under her breath, earning a look of visible disbelief from the vampire with enhanced hearing. "Where are we?"
"Georgia," he promptly disclosed, teeth grinding together at the vibration of his phone against his thigh, his irritation evolving to fury. "Really!" he growled to himself. Elena, having assumed the last part was emphasized to address her disbelief, proceeded to argue with him, rebuking him for 'basically kidnapping me!' – "Elena, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, sit tight and shut up," he hissed in a manner of forced calm, through gritted teeth. Mouth dropping in a perfect 'O' formation, Elena stared, wholly affronted and a smidge shocked as Damon had never spoken to her like that before – heck, even when she slapped him, he didn't react with such violence.
Belatedly however, Elena realized that despite the charming front he dons and the sexy eye-thing he had a habit of doing, Damon was still Damon – a vicious, murderous, volatile vampire and usually, a Stefan-shaped boulder stood between her and the consequences of his rage. A shard of fear sliced into her, sudden regret at leaving Stefan slamming into her. "Where is my phone?" her breath stuttered, and okay, Damon felt a twinge of guilt for his irascible behavior. She frantically started to feel up her pants for her phone. "Ok. We really need to go back. Nobody knows where I am, and-, and Snow, oh my God, Snow…" Elena turned hysteric, tears welling in her doe eyes at the sudden recollection of Snow's disappearance. Her efforts to locate her phone grew desperate, the unexpected transformation alarming Damon. "Pull over. I mean it, Damon. Pull over! Stop the car!"
Eyes rolling aggressively in annoyance, Damon obeyed and pulled over by the side of the road, "Oh, you were so much more fun when you were asleep."
The car didn't even screech to a halt before Elena flew out of the car, attempting to create a semblance of distance between her and the cantankerous vampire. Limping out, her face nearly met the roadside wheatgrass if it weren't for Damon flashing by her side and steadying her. "Careful. There's no broken bones but you still hit you head."
Disregarding his concern and his fluctuating temper, Elena manically flapped her hands and insisted, "We have to go back, Damon."
"Oh, come on. Look, we've already come this far–"
"Why are you doing this?" Elena interjected angrily. "I can't be in Georgia. I wrecked my car. I have to go home. This is kidnapping."
Damon looked at her strangely, though amusement curved on his lips, the corners twitching upward. "That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?" a small chuckle escaped him.
Needing to return to Mystic Falls, desperate for news regarding Snow's whereabouts and annoyed over her vanished phone, Elena stubbornly folded her arms against her chest and deadpanned, "You're not funny. You can't do this. I'm not going to Georgia."
Briefly, Damon entertained the thought of knocking Elena out until their return to Mystic Falls. Ruminating on that appealing notion, his gaze fell onto her neck or, to be more precise, her bare neck… and he thought, a little threat won't hurt. "Well, you're in Georgia. Without your magical little necklace, I might add," he smirked, eyes pointedly dropping to her neck before meeting her wide brown orbs. "I can very easily make you… agreeable."
Fuming, Elena balled her hands into fists while she glared daggers at the arrogantly smirking vampire before her. A catty comment on the tip of her tongue, it remained buried at the familiar ringtone permeating the air. The trademark smirk instantly morphed into a moue of displeasure as he withdrew the offending object from his pocket. Elena lunged for her phone but the vampire's reflexes proved superior. "That's my phone!" she snapped.
"Mmm. It's your boyfriend." If the circumstances were different, Elena would have probably refused to speak with Stefan out of spite, but she was desperate for news about Snow. She stepped forward, hand out expectantly. Damon however, kept it out of reach, "I'll take it." Phone pressed to his ear and eyes glittering with glee at the chance to annoy his brother, Damon finally answered one out of the gazillion calls that had been blowing up their phones, "Elena's phone…"
The prompt retort was an equal amount of stressed and troubled, Stefan immediately thinking the worst of him – as expected. "Where is she? Why do you have her phone, is she okay?" he demanded in one breath. Damon's eyes connected with a pair of furious chocolate browns, "Elena? She's right here. And yes, she's fine."
"Where are you?" Stefan snarled. Raven brows knit together in bemusement; not only was the bustling on the other end distracting, but Damon instantly identified his location – intimately familiar with the hustle and bustle of a hospital. Question is… what is his brother doing in a hospital? The ensuing demand snapped him out of his contemplation, "Let me speak to her."
The growl Elena emitted was poorly performed and frankly adorable, "Give me the phone, Damon!"
Still indignant and irritable from before, and with Stefan carrying the mantle of his favorite outlet for his suppressed rage, Damon couldn't refuse to share the annoyance. A slow smirk colored his lips, "Elena's currently unavailable. May I take your message…"
A loud sigh echoed from the other end. If he weren't weary and defeated, Stefan would've engaged in an argument with his brother, "Look, Damon, just let Elena know we-, we found Snow."
Confusion surged; any and all signs of levity were drained from Damon's features. He frowned, electric blue orbs intense as they collided with Elena's tearful browns, the jigsaw piece beginning to connect into the full picture he, apparently, had been missing, "Found Snow? What exactly is that supposed to mean, Stefan?!"
Elena's olive complexion brightened with relief and she blinked back her tears, "Oh my God, put it on speaker!" No sooner had Damon acquiesced, did she blurt out, "Where is she, is she okay?" Her rushed inquiries and the relief lacing them brought Stefan up short, his silence sounding extremely loud and ominous. "Stefan? Say something, why-why've you gone quiet?" the relief that previously coated her tone now replaced with choked tears.
"Logan found her last night by the river bank underneath Wickery Bridge," Stefan revealed, voice strained. Elena gasped and Damon frowned. "She-, I'm sorry, Elena. Snow was attacked, it's, it's not looking good."
"Oh my God, no! At-at-attacked, what do you mean attacked-"
The brunette's stammers were cut off by an impatient Damon, the confusion never having left him, "She has no scent, why would a vampire attack her?" Elena did a double take at this piece of information, it being news to her. When silence met his inquiry, he growled out, "Stefan?!"
Stefan hesitated, "It wasn't a vampire, Damon. According to Logan and Sherriff Forbes, it was premeditated. She was stabbed without remorse. And, and her attacker threw her over the bridge to hide her body."
The elder Salvatore felt unbridled rage course through him, almost threatening to suffocate him. He could see nothing but red as comprehension dawned on him. Snow Silverstone, the kindest and sweetest person in the universe, was targeted by some sick son of a bitch, and to make matters worse, her body was meant to be dumped in the river – a body dump! While the vampire processed all this, Elena was inconsolable, hiccups choking her, "Who would want to kill Snow? She's such a sweetheart, everyone loves her."
More importantly – "Why haven't you or Logan give her blood already? What the hell are you waiting for!?" Damon snarled angrily.
"You think we haven't tried?" Stefan snapped, outraged and offended over the insinuation that he or Logan weren't attempting to do the best they can for Snow. "You think we've been sitting here twiddling our thumbs, watching paint dry?" dry sarcasm delivered in a snarky tone alluded to the full extent of his current ill-temper. "Sheriff Forbes, the Mayor and his wife haven't left the hospital and she's been taken in and out of surgery– Look, I gotta go, the surgeon is coming to update us." And not giving either one of them a chance to get a word in, he hung up on them. Damon and Elena stood still for a moment, staring at the blank screen in a potent state of shock and fear, respectively.
Getting into the car, Damon started the engine, "Look, I have something I need to take care of. We'll get in and out, okay?"
Mute, Elena acknowledged him with a nod and kept her eyes on the landscape, tears falling down her face in constant streams as worst possible scenarios resonated in her head.
"Family of Snow Silverstone!" the surgeon that spent the better half of the night and early morning operating on Snow called out, making a beeline toward the congregation of five.
Logan immediately shot to his feet, "How is she?"
Grimacing, the surgeon took out his glasses and viciously rubbed his eyes. Putting them back on the bridge of his nose, he sadly shook his head, "For now, she's stable. The girl's a fighter, but… to be frank, it's not looking good." Then, he gently imparted, "I'm not saying you should expect the worst, I just don't want you to get your hopes up."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Liz lost her cool, her professional demeanor going out the metaphoric window, as her bloodshot eyes glared daggers at the silver-haired man.
The eccentric surgeon sighed and calmly asked, "Does Miss Silverstone have any blood relations around?"
Growing apoplectic, a vein bulging on his temple, Richard snapped, "You damn well know she doesn't, Dan! You're the one who signed off her parents' death certificates!" Dr. Jeffreys sucked in a sharp breath, and Stefan detected perspiration accumulating on his forehead. "Quit stalling! What is this about?"
Dr. Dan Jeffreys may be Mystic Falls leading surgeon in possession of great intellect, his bedside manner nonetheless was appalling. Excluding medicine, the man was dim in regards to the basic rules of life and was, plainly put, a subpar human being. Furthermore, he had the atrocious character of a misanthrope.
Nobody liked being on the receiving end of the Mayor's wrath. Letting out a nervous cough, he revealed in a grave tone, "Er, yes, ahem, you see, Snow lost a-a lot of blood, if she doesn't get a blood transfusion, she will die." The combined glares from the adults prompted him to splutter out, "She's O-, a universal donor—"
"So give her a blood transfusion!" Stefan was quickly losing control of his temper. How that man happened to be the best surgeon in Mystic Falls stumped him.
Removing his glasses once more, Dr. Jeffreys frantically shook his head in negative, "It's not that simple, young man." Dragging a hand down his face, he averted any and all eye contact from the five furious individuals, "The blood bank has been broken into. You-you see, our store has been wiped out of O- blood type. So we, we cannot give her a blood transfusion. Our only hope is a relative with the same type or, or somebody, a-a, a donation—"
"Why have I not heard about this!?" Liz demanded, her inner Sheriff reappearing. "This was not reported in!"
The irony almost had Logan dissolving into tears. He had the same blood type as Snow. If he were human, he'd have been able to donate in an instant. Regardless, the thought of donating did cross his mind; unfortunately, Snow was being monitored closely, Richard and Carol observing everything like a boil of hawks, not leaving her bedside for a minute, therefore, they'd realize her instantaneous healing and he'd be exposed. Although, he didn't really care about his continued existence as long as Snow lived. Filing the idea for later, Logan added, "Don't you keep a record of names and their blood types around here?"
His words prompted another wince out of the eccentric surgeon, his grimace more pronounced, "Of-, of course we do. You see-" the utterance of those two words alerted the congregation to another issue, "-the files we have on computer have been deleted, and-, and our hardcopies are missing!" Their exchange was cut off by Jeffreys' pager going off, subsequently followed by a nurse's frantic yell of, "Dr. Jeffreys, she's coding!"
A short spell of nerve-wracking silence ensued, each one of the five mulling over the apparent foul-play occurring in Mystic Falls.
Carol choked out, "No stone has been left unturned!"
"If I had any doubts, I don't any more. This is definitely premeditated," a waver could be detected in Liz's voice, tears clinging to her lashes. "Breaking into the blood bank, it was a contingency in the scenario she survived the attack."
The two vampires and Richard were quick to connect the dots. It was Logan however, who vocalized the grim truth, "Meaning our attacker might be closer to home than we originally thought. It was a skillfully constructed plan. All the i's were dotted and the t's crossed." What a time to reunite with Snow. Almost like a higher power was testing him, to see whether or not he was worthy, ensuring all his practice with Sophie stuck. Because he felt an urge to drain every scumbag within the town's limits dry, the murderous demon within endeavoring to thrash its way out from its vault.
At that moment, Caroline and Bonnie approached them at full speed, tears in their eyes and staining their faces. Throughout the hugs and the tears and a few screams of denial on Caroline's part, Bonnie –still oblivious over Logan's new and improved nature – sent Stefan a meaningful look. Sighing, the two vampires shared grim nods; they needed everyone to clear out in order to slip Snow blood before her time ran out.
Suffice to say, this day wasn't Damon's best one. Not even remotely close.
While Damon practiced the art of deception on a near-daily basis, the art having been perfected by him – not that he liked to brag. Lie! – the absolute hypocrite despised being lied to. When it came to his allies, he demanded their loyalty – liking him wasn't a necessity. Staying loyal, on the other hand, definitely was. Which was why the discovery of his favorite witch's treachery hit him hard.
He genuinely came to like Bree. Not as a friend. No, Damon Salvatore didn't have, nor did he want any friends. But for a witch, Bree had quickly become his favorite. And Bree knew, betraying him was a death sentence. He had come to the conclusion of her betrayal after Lee, Lexi's boyfriend, almost burned him to death, if not for Elena's compassion prompting her to plead to Lee's conscious and spare his life.
First Emily, now Bree. In the span of four days, the two witches he favored and held in high regards betrayed him.
Leaving Elena by the car, Damon casually strolled into the bar, his eyes on the witch as he grabbed his leather jacket and slipped it on. She kept her back turned, tear tracks marring her beautiful face as she downed back a shot. "We were just leaving, I wanted to say goodbye," Damon stated, his tone hard.
Her stance turned rigid, though she still kept her back to him and, in a flat voice, said, "Good to see you again, Damon."
Forcing his anger at bay, Damon maintained his nonchalance, "No kiss?"
That prompted a reaction out of her. Bree furiously whirled around, her dark eyes narrowed, "I'm full of vervain. I put it in everything I drink."
Taking a few steps forward, around the bar, there was a ghost of a smirk on his lips at the flash of fear in her eyes. Cocking his head, he stilled, "And you're telling me this, why?"
"Lexi was my friend-" Huh! That was news to him. How the hell did Bree get acquainted with Lexi and Lee? He had been under the assumption Lee tracked him down and Bree sold him out. Turns out, she sought Lee out, informing him of his location. "How could you?" Bree hissed, her voice cracking with grief at the end. Unable to stand the sight of him, she turned her back on him and reached out to pour another shot.
That was her second mistake.
One never turned their back on a potentially murderous vampire.
Flashing in front of her and blocking a route of escape, Bree jolted back in alarm. "The tomb can be opened!" she blurted out an exclamation, grasping for straws.
Sick and tired of everyone using his obsession with getting the tomb open against him, Damon snarled, "You're lying."
Gaze imploring, Bree did a feeble attempt to create space between them, desperate, "Emily's grimoire, her spell book. If you know how she closed the tomb, the reversal process will be in her book. You can open the tomb."
"Where is this book?"
At a loss of words, Bree stuttered, "I…uh, I-"
"You have no idea," Damon stated roughly, the words sneered through gritted teeth. Electric blue eyes pierced her solemnly, weighing her sincerity, her genuine fear selling it. Truthfully, Damon didn't want to kill her, but betrayal came at a heavy cost, and he couldn't trust her not to turn against him whenever opportunity struck. Damon wasn't one to keep around loose ends.
"No. I'm telling the truth," a begging quality in Bree's tone, she beseeched him.
Expression morphing into genuine regret, Damon took one last step forward, eliminating any aspect of personal space, "And I believe you, my dear, sweet Bree. That's why I'm almost sorry." However, just as Damon prepared himself to end her life, Bree burst into speech, desperation pushing her into utilizing her last piece of information as a bargaining chip, "Wait! There's something else, something you should know."
Damon rolled his eyes, "Now you're just stalling."
"N-no. You need to-, you must know," her eyes produced a stream and Damon instinctively brushed it off with the pad of his thumb. "A darkness looms in the horizon. For months now, The Spirits have been wailing, warning their descendants of this-, this pure evil! The air is contaminated, darkness pollutes it and Nature is crying, screaming for help," her hushed voice had an eerie, sibilant quality and if she were confessing to anyone else, they would have reacted appropriately – with fear.
Incredulous eyes pierced the trembling witch. "What do I care about this so-called darkness? I'm a vampire, or as you witches like to name-call, an abomination of nature," Damon snarled mockingly, obviously not taking Bree's final warning to heart. That, or he simply didn't care.
"'Cause it all leads to one specific location, Damon. A mystical hotspot, one that holds an abundance of dark secrets … And it is fast-approaching, it's destination Mystic Falls. Bad omens shall strike that town, if it hasn't begun already. This, I swear," it sounded like a prediction, Bree's voice having adopted a mystical quality, dropping all efforts to save her life. The moment she uttered 'Mystic Falls', followed by 'bad omens', Damon stilled, the perpetual paranoia within him convinced she was delivering a threat which prompted his orbs to darken to a menacing black.
He barked out a derisive scoff. Like a rollercoaster however, his rage morphed into amusement upon processing her monologue, "A darkness approaching Mystic Falls? You're that desperate I spare your life that you're spouting tall tales to me? A vampire."
Frantic, Bree shook her head, "Not just Mystic Falls, Damon. This darkness, this-" she shuddered, "evil, while it has a specific destination, it does not pertain to a what, but a who. The location has been chosen because of a certain individual residing in Mystic Falls. And where this person goes, the darkness shall follow."
Piqued, Damon curiously inquired, "And who may this unlucky person be?"
"I-I don't know. We don't know. The Spirits cry for the Pure, a gentle soul who stands no chance. Not without help. I can help you," Bree pleaded, hands twisting around the collar of his shirt. Damon snorted, "I don't care about the darkness, or whoever it's targeting. I. only. care. about. getting. Katherine. out of. the. tomb," emphasizing his desire and his only concern, Damon plunged his hand into Bree's chest and grabbed her heart, watching as Bree's face morphed into agony, one last stream trailing down her face.
He savored the fear in her eyes for a moment longer before he ripped out her heart and dropped it next to her slumped body. Causally wiping her blood from his hands on a napkin from the bar, he left the bar.
Logan had been preparing to compel his way into Snow's OR and inject his blood into her system, damn the consequences, when Dr. Jeffreys suddenly appeared in their line of vision, a large smile on his wrinkled face as he approached the group waiting for Snow that had, all day, slowly increased in number. Joyfully, he brought his hands together and exclaimed, "I have great news. The surgery was a success! Snow is currently in the intensive care unit, recuperating. In two days time, she can be discharged, but she'll have to take it easy for a while. No heavy activity, we don't want to rip her stitches, do we."
A collective sigh of relief pervaded the waiting room.
Richard, while overjoyed at the miraculous news, failed to conceal his annoyance at Dan Jeffreys dark humor. Why that man chose a profession where he'd have to interact with people on a constant basis and show sensitivity, he didn't know.
Similarly ecstatic, Logan however, couldn't shake the coincidence off. The timing was too… good to be true. Suddenly, Sophie's unhelpful advice echoed in his head. Eyes narrowed, he stopped Jeffreys before he could vanish from his line of sight, dragging him a bit away from the cheerful congregation, Richard and Liz hot on their heels, "How?" At the surgeon's bemused expression, Logan rolled his eyes at the incompetent moron, "You said a blood transfusion was required…" He trailed off at his discomfort, glaring at the uneasy roll of the old man's shoulders.
From his peripheral, Logan identified Stefan employing his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop on them and subsequently murmur the happenings in Bonnie's ear. Belatedly, Logan recalled Bonnie Bennett was not just the handful that knew of the Salvatores identity but also, from what he had been informed, a powerful witch in the making.
"Ahh, you see-" those two damns words again! "Right as we were in the middle of surgery, you see we were in the middle of putting Miss Silverstone in suspended animation to buy her some time, a-a man came in and donated blood. He was a-a perfect match. Too perfect, in fact! It was like a miracle…if you believe in such things," he marveled; regardless of the wonder in his voice, his nondescript visage remained apathetic.
Liz frowned in confusion, "Who was he?"
Logan and Richard – and Stefan – shared Liz's exact sentiments, suspicious of the arrival of some stranger who just so happened to have a matching blood type as Snow, appearing spontaneously and coincidentally saving her life just at the nick of time. There were too many consequences piling up, and the affair itself reeked with foul-play.
"I apologize, Sherriff Forbes, but you see-" cue inward groans! "-he specifically asked that his identity remain confidential. Hospital policy and all" Dr. Jeffreys shrugged, not really looking apologetic at all. Parting them with a weak, perfunctory smile, he detached himself from their presence and disappeared in the sea of staff.
Aggressively dragging a hand through his short hair, Richard hissed, "Damn it!" He then looked to Liz, irritation palpable on his handsome, aristocratic features, "Remind me later, Lizzie, to start looking for competent surgeons, will ya."
In response, the Sheriff fondly shook her head before returning to her daughter.
"Am I the only one grateful for this stranger's impeccable timing, yet suspicious of his impeccable timing?" Logan addressed the Mayor, his hard gaze following the movements of their congregation's new arrivals – Damon and Elena. Huffing out a long-drawn-out sigh, Richard pursed his lips, head shaking in agreement, "No, there's definitely something fishy. I assure you, Liz and I will look into it." Turning to join his wife and son, he hesitated. Logan arched a honey-blonde brow at him. A firm hand on his shoulder, the elder of the two squeezed, "I'm proud of you, Logan. I'm sure Selene is as well."
Attempting to infuse a bit of levity, Logan jokingly called after his retreating back, "Love ya too, Rich!"
"Am I interrupting?" Damon's unwelcome snarky voice intruded. The newly-turned vampire glowered at the personification of asshole. "So, fill me in on what's been going on. I leave town for one day…"
While Logan grudgingly recited the exciting events of the past day and a half, Stefan and Elena were finally having their little heart-to-heart. "Can we talk please? I hear the cafeteria has horrible coffee."
Elena responded with a half-smile, half-grimace, nevertheless she accepted the offer, and side-by-side the kind-of, not-really couple made themselves comfortable in an empty corner. Taking the proffered paper cup from Stefan, she commenced the awkward conversation, "You could have told me."
"I wanted to tell you," Stefan implored her to believe him. A smidge defensive, he added, "It's not something that easily rolls off the tongue, Elena."
Solemn chocolate eyes fixated on Stefan's lovely pair of forest green. "You said no more lies," she pointedly reminded him. "Only the truth. I can handle the truth, Stefan. As crazy as it is, I can handle the fact that you are a vampire, and that you have a vampire brother, and that one of my best friends is a witch." Sighing, she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I can accept the fact that the world is a much more mysterious place that I ever thought possible. But this… this lie, I cannot take." Incapable of holding her gaze, Stefan lowered his eyes, focusing on the murky brown liquid instead. A short pause later, Elena asked, "What am I to you? Who am I to you?"
The brown head of hair promptly tilted upward. His expression grave and eyes sincere, Stefan didn't waste a second to put Elena's fears to rest, "You are not Katherine. You are the opposite of everything that she was."
"And when did you figure that out?" Elena snapped, "Before you kissed me? Before we slept together?"
Well aware that his incoming confession would drastically change Elena's life, Stefan sighed, "Before I met you."
A beat passed, a crease slowly materializing between her brows "What?"
Shifting closer, Stefan gently imparted, "The first day of school, when we met… It wasn't the first time, Elena."
She felt her heart struggle against its ribcage, its loud thundering almost deafening Elena, "Then when was it?"
"May twenty-third, 2009."
A horrifying silence ensued as Elena digested the implication of Stefan's words. Eyes wide, she frantically rubbed the goosebumps from her arms. "But that was…" she choked, eyes brimming with the beginning formation of tears. Stefan nodded, his features sorrowful, "That was the day your parent's car went off the bridge."
"You were there?" Elena's voice came out in a whisper, dreading the answer, yet needing to know.
And thus, Stefan elaborated, his tone soothing and gentle, "Every couple of years I come back here, to see Zach and see my home. Last spring, I was out in the woods by old Wickery Bridge, and I heard the accident. All of it. I was getting there, but not fast enough. The car was already submerged. Your dad was still-, he was still conscious. I was able to get to him, but he wouldn't let me help him, until I helped you."
While Stefan regaled the events from the worst night of Elena's life, tears flooded her face and once he was done, an epiphany struck her, the one thing that had everyone stumped, finally answered, "Oh my God. When I woke up in the hospital, nobody could figure out how I got out of the car. They said it was a miracle."
Stefan let out a long sigh. "I went back for them," he assured her, not wanting her to believe he simply saved her and abandoned her parents to their fate. "But it was too late. I couldn't-, I couldn't save them. When I pulled you out, I looked at your face. You looked like Katherine," looking like he was reliving the initial discovery, Stefan frantically shook his head. "I couldn't believe the resemblance. After that, I spent months making sure that you weren't her. I watched you. I learned everything that I could about you, and I saw that you were nothing like Katherine. And I wanted to leave town, but Elena, I couldn't. I couldn't leave without knowing you. I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you. I wanted to, but you were so sad."
Once every sliver of information regarding that night was disclosed by the vampire, Elena inquired after the one constant that had been bothering her extremely, from the split-second she stumbled across the picture, "Why do I look like her?"
"Elena, you've been through so much and with Snow…" he trailed off. Stefan's hesitant preface, the compassionate tone he employed, and him trailing off immediately alerted Elena to red flags, knowing he had an answer but she wouldn't like it. A stubborn fire lit up in her chocolate brown eyes, meeting Stefan's sorrowful gaze unblinkingly and expectantly. "No secrets, remember?"
Ejecting another dejected exhale, Stefan proceeded to elucidate, "It didn't make any sense to me. You were a Gilbert. She was a Pierce. But the resemblance was too similar. And then I learned the truth." A beat of silence engulfed them, Stefan pausing to gauge Elena's reaction who looked like she was about to fall over the edge of her seat, "You were adopted, Elena."
And there it was…everything concerning Elena was laid out on the table. Everything Elena knew… everything she thought she knew—Reality came crashing down on her; her world flipping entirely on its axis. Her eyes no longer welled with tears. Instead, the impact of the news of her adoption prompted her limbs to shake ever so slightly. Stefan abandoned the seat across her to take the one beside her, embracing her to his chest, to which she gladly reciprocated, much to his relief. "How do you know all this?" she asked upon calming down.
"Your birth certificate from the city records," Stefan promptly informed her. "It says Elena Gilbert, Mystic Falls General. But there's no record of your mother ever being admitted. There's no record of her ever being pregnant."
Chocolate browns lifted, peering at the vampire from under eyelashes clumped with tears, "What else do you know?"
"For me to go any further, I would've had to look into the Pierce family, and I couldn't do that. It's too much of a risk. If someone found out I was asking about Katherine…" Noticing Elena was really shaken up, doubts skirting in her expressive eyes, Stefan cupped her face in the palm of his hands, raising it to squarely meet his heartfelt ones, "Listen to me, it doesn't matter. You are the woman that I love. I love you."
Hesitantly, a genuine smile lit up Elena's features. Staring deeply into his eyes, Elena felt like crying and screaming, she wanted to rant and yell about the unfairness her life had suddenly become, but she had a best friend suffering at the moment, and she couldn't be selfish. She had all the time in the world to mope and mourn. "We need to find out who did this to Snow and why, Stefan."
Stefan's face changed in an instant, all softness and adoration he held toward this one girl in his arms morphing until he looked like he had been carved from stone.. "We will," he promised, pecking her on the top of her head.
In another section of the hospital, Logan, a vampire on a mission in current possession of a one-track mind, clung to the shadows as he expertly weaved through the halls, avoiding the security cameras distributed throughout the facility's corridors. Taking the convoluted passage to Medical Records which consisted of ducking into stairwells in order to avoid the cameras installed in the elevators, Logan rolled his eyes at the irritating extra shadow he had gained. "Why are you following me, Damon," he hissed.
Damon smirked. "You look like a vamp on a mission and I'm bored," he retorted flippantly. "Thought watching you break the law'd be much more interesting than drinking through my bourbon collection," he added, inserting a hand in the pocket of his leather jacket in a manner of utmost nonchalance. Then, in afterthought, he said, "Doesn't hurt that I'm curious."
Chuckling wryly, Logan halted in his tracks to stare at the blue-eyed vampire, "From what I hear, your only concern is reuniting with your lost love." Teeth gritted, Damon returned the stare with a stoic look. Emitting another chuckle, Logan flashed around the last winding passage and, in rapid succession, hurled a coin into the lens of a security camera strategically positioned in the hallway leading to a door, shattering it.
"Good arm," came Damon's indifferent observation.
Exhibiting a mordant sense of humor, Logan shrugged a shoulder, his lips twisting into a bitter smirk, "Yeah, well, being part of the undead comes with a bunch of cool tricks."
In response, Damon rolled his eyes and gave him a scornful smile. "If you're waiting for me to apologize for killing you, fair warning, it'll never come. Not even when you're dead dead. You were about to kill my brother, and newsflash, even if you weren't, I'd probably still kill you on the basis of your stellar personality," sharp with a voice full of acid, Damon sneered. However, to his ever-growing irritation, Logan appeared unaffected, that damn smirk merely widening, radiating mischief instead of its previous bitterness.
And without further ado, Logan opened the door to the Medical Records room with his elbow – wary of leaving his fingerprints anywhere. No sooner did he take a step inside, did a shrill scream of, "Oh my God! L-Logan, Logan Fell! Th-The j-journalist!" echo from the woman sitting behind the desk. Lust-filled blue eyes sparkled at him from behind a pair of clunky maroon-framed glasses; she was a plus-sized woman in her late twenties with auburn hair styled in a large updo at the crown of her head, a button nose, wide lips and a cleft chin.
Dialing up the charm, Logan sauntered toward her and rested his forearms on the counter, an orgasm-inducing smile that broadcasted his full set of pearly teeth on his face. "Hello, sweetheart," he grinned.
Scoffing, Damon followed, "Oh, brother." The woman had eyes for no one but Logan, irking the Salvatore vampire. Pulling the lone ranger his entire immortal life, he wasn't used to being overshadowed, another reason Logan Fell pissed him off. Knowingly, Logan turned his grin to him before he winked at – "I-I'm Shannon!" – the gushing mortal.
"Well, Shannon," Logan prefaced, grin firmly intact. "Is there anyone else back there?" he jutted his chin toward the backroom where all the files of legalese nature were archived. A boost of confidence instilled in her from the litany of pet names Logan bestowed upon her in the span of a minute, Shannon abandoned her chair, stood at his eye level and leaned into his personal space, her cleavage enhanced by her arms. "No, no. Just you and me," she breathed out, reverence in her tone.
"And chopped liver over here," Damon snarked, alternating between boring holes at Shannon, who completely disregarded him, his comment wholly ignored, and Logan, who choked back a laugh, incredibly amused by Damon's offense. Shaking his head, Logan mused aloud, "How convenient."
Regrettably, Logan was forced to conclude the amusing interaction as, while he deeply enjoyed provoking Damon, he had come down here for a reason and couldn't be distracted by his sudden favorite hobby. Not wasting another second, Logan compelled Shannon to leave the room and forget she had seen either one of them as he didn't doubt Richard, Liz or her deputies would be inquiring after the broken surveillance camera, the hospital soon to be heavy monitored due to the circumstances surrounding Snow's attack.
"I hate you," Damon stated, speaking as though he were matter-of-factly describing the weather.
Head flung back, the journalist barked out a laugh, eyes crinkled cheerfully. "I wonder why…? Could it be my sarcastic wit, good humor, or my flippancy toward you? Or how about my natural charm and mischievous behavior, my rising fame and my ineffable good looks?" he snapped his fingers in mock realization, "I know, I know. It's all of the above. It's actually very funny if you think about it, I'm the better you. Just without the functioning psychopath part."
"I can kill you, you know," Damon growled.
Honey-blonde brows tipped upward. "I think we've already established that, since you did kill me," he chuckled, hands interlaced behind his back. Damon took a menacing step forward, "No. I mean permanently. I'm older which is equivalent to stronger. I can rip your heart out in the blink of an eye and not even feel a shred of remorse."
Logan rolled his eyes at his arrogance.
It was a common misconception among vampires apparently, one Sophie distastefully informed him of when she educated him on Vampire 101. According to the witches, most vampires put their faith solely on their age to win battles, but the truth is it's a laughable misbelief. Emotion played a major role as, when a vampire feels…they feel immensely – this was also the main reason why most vampires with their humanity off were easier to kill; they lacked emotions. In conclusion, Logan could feel it in his bones that, if he wanted to kill Damon, he could – the drive to kill him, the emotions overtaking him, the desperation to live, and his ability to outsmart the arrogant Salvatore would, collectively, lead to his victory – all of which motivated his lack of fear and complete nonchalance to the myriad of threats Damon threw in his face. Unfortunately, while Damon had killed him, the irksome vampire had his uses.
Insouciantly leaning against the counter, Logan, despite his lazy grin, met Damon's dagger-like glare with solemn hazel eyes, "I'm not scared of you, Damon. You know why? 'Cause you won't kill me." Raising a hand in the air, he abruptly stopped Damon from snarling a retort, probably something along the lines of "wanna bet!?" and continued, "Because as much as you want to deny it, you've grown to care for Snow, and murdering her godfather will hurt her. You claim you don't care about anyone but yourself and getting into the tomb, but I know for a fact that being around Snow awakens your humanity." The Salvatore brother clenched his jaw, but remained silent, devoid of any clever rejoinders. "Also, it doesn't hurt that I've got a bunch of witches on my side and that if you kill me, you have no idea what their response would be. Would they retaliate? Would they care? Are you being watched right now? …Mindblower, ain't it?" a sarcastic chuckle with hints of mischief emanated from his lips.
Yet again, Damon growled, "I hate you."
"I'll take that as a compliment," the journalist winked, patting him on his clavicle before disappearing in the sea of floor to ceiling filing cabinets, hazel orbs intense and no longer overflowing with mischief or glee. "So, you gonna just stand there, or are you willing to lend a hand?" he called over his shoulder, already rummaging through the cabinet decked with a sticker titled "December 2009".
Emitting a weak groan, Damon joined his side, "Fine. Just to satiate my curiosity." Hearing the noncommittal sound Logan made, he rolled his eyes and huffed, "And for Snow."
After a brief pause, Damon spoke up again, "I'll say this only once and if you repeat it, I'll deny it, then kill you but… a small part of me is glad you had vampire blood in your system."
"Of all the times to leave my recorder at home," Logan joked, chuckling to himself.
Owing to their enhanced speed and their joined efforts, it didn't take long for Logan to finally hit jackpot. A victorious grin on his face, Logan flipped open the appropriate file with much relish, though his good mood only lasted a moment. Face paling rapidly, eyes growing marginally, and hands shaking, he gasped out, "That's not possible…"
Frowning, electric-blue eyes sought him out, confused by his frozen state. Neck craning forward, Damon peered at the file. "What is it-, what the hell!?" he hissed, involuntarily mimicking Logan's stance. Together, both vampires stared at the name written in fine print, glaring back at them, and to the journalist, the signature did not lie, its familiarity wiping away all thoughts of plagiarism.
"He's dead. There's-there's no way. Absolutely impossible!" the papers fell from Logan's loose grip, fluttering ominously until they landed on the floor, still and innocuous.
Blinking, Damon regarded the frantically pacing Logan Fell. "Vampires cannot donate blood," Damon stated, his words prompting the pacing to become more erratic. "I mean we can donate blood, but, our blood doesn't have any antigens or antibodies, thus making the point moot!" His bemusement had his rant change directions, "Plus quantity isn't important when it comes to our blood and recovery time is unnecessary and if a vampire donated blood then the Council would be on high alert, but they're not, which means—"
"He cannot just rise from the dead!" Logan snapped, cutting into Damon's rambles. "And there are no such things as zombies. He cannot, as you've mentioned, be a vampire," he listed, expression grim upon reaching the most obvious conclusion, the ugly truth glaring back at him and making him stagger backward, eyes wide in profound horror. "Which means…"
It was an equally grim Damon to utter the truth Logan could not, "Which means Stanley Silverstone faked his own death and is very much alive."
"That man is not one to be trifled with, Sophie. His threats are not empty ones. Our only hope is that the girl survives. If not…" – Josephine LaRue
"This doesn't make sense. My entire life, I've known Snow as the quiet girl. Who'd want her dead!?" – Tyler Lockwood
"Snow Silverstone? The mousey little girl who could barely hold eye contact? Yeah, I remember her. Babysat her a couple of times. She's a real sweetheart. What about her?" – Mason Lockwood
"I want that murdering scumbag's head on a platter!" – Caroline Forbes
"Vicki? Look, I don't know where you are, or if you've been getting any of my calls, but… I thought you should know. Something's happened to Snow…" – Matt Donovan
"Never met the guy who totaled your car, Elena. And if I've never met him, I wouldn't know him. I mean, it's not like we all hang out together at the Vamp Bar & Grill." – Damon Salvatore
"Listen up everybody! Here's to the man that broke my heart, crushed my soul, destroyed my life, and ruined any and all chances of happiness! Drink up!" – Bree
"About twenty years ago, when I was a sweet, young freshman, I met this beautiful man, and I fell in love. And then he told me about his little secret, made me love him more. Because, you see, I had a little secret of my own that I was dying to share with somebody." – Bree
"Bonnie, there's something you should know. Something happened to your friend, Snow…" – Sheila Bennett
"If a vampire didn't attack Snow, then who did, Stefan? This just, this doesn't make sense! And where's Elena? She hasn't been answering any of mine or Caroline's calls. It's not like her." – Bonnie Bennett
"Let's just say that I'm descended from Katherine…does that make me part vampire?" – Elena Gilbert
"Vampires can't procreate. But we love to try. No, if you were related, it would mean Katherine had a child before she was turned." – Damon Salvatore
"You'd risk exposure and probably death, for Snow. …Wow. Everyone in this town's pegged you all wrong. You really do love her. You're a good man, Logan. I'm glad you didn't die. …uh, I mean, permanently." – Stefan Salvatore
"Someone's gotta help you keep this town safe from raging psychopaths who lash out by killing… like your brother." – Logan Fell
"There's something different about him. Logan's different. More responsible and mature. I feel like I'm seeing the person he was when Selene was alive." – Carol Lockwood
"As long as I keep a healthy diet of blood in my system, my body functions pretty normally." – Damon Salvatore
"When someone says a place is haunted…don't go in." – Dean Winchester
"It's about time Logan started acting his age." – Richard Lockwood
"I know in this town we're avid followers of innocent until proven guilty, but I say we take the law into our own hands, grab out pitchforks and storm over to Lucille's!" – Jenna Sommers
"I bet you anything Lucille the Wicked Witch has something to do with this. Don't look at me like that you guys! I'm gonna point fingers as much as I like. I don't trust her. I mean… where the hell is she? She and her disgusting spawns didn't even bother showing up!" – Caroline Forbes (to Bonnie, Matt & Tyler)
"I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? 'Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little soldier? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?" – Sam Winchester
"You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!" – Dean Winchester
"Okay Elena that's enough. Drowning yourself in tequila shots won't do Snow much good. We'll be out of here soon and back in Mystic Falls." – Damon Salvatore
"If you want to be with someone forever, you have to live forever." – Lee
"Lexi loved you! And she was good! And that means you're good too. Be better than him. Don't do this. I'm begging you! Please." – Elena Gilbert
Sam Winchester: "I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there." Dean Winchester: "You remember all that?" Sam Winchester: "Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it."
"He's still a Scum!" – Jenna Sommers
"You were there in the road, all damsel-in-distress-like. And, I knew it would piss off Stefan. Not to mention Snow would be devastated. And… you're not the worst company in the world, Elena." – Damon Salvatore
"I used to be more fun." – Elena Gilbert
"He killed me. I had a feeling one day Damon Salvatore would be responsible for my death. But I did it. I told him. Hopefully he'll recall my warning when the bad omens begin and do something about it." – Bree (to The Spirits)
"Okay…Question: am I adopted? I trust you to tell me the truth too, Jenna. How could you not tell me? I thought we were closer than that." – Elena Gilbert
"One more strike, and I'll go to Mystic Falls." – John Gilbert
"Sheila, this is just the beginning!" – Emily Bennett
"She's alive." – Sophie Deveraux
A/N: Da-Da-Dummm. Sorry for the cliffhanger! Actually, no I'm not! LOL!
(1) I hope you enjoyed this chapter. How did you like the Logan/Damon bonding? Or well, not bonding, but I totally love their dynamic! I enjoy writing their parts, I start out with a short scene and then their personalities make it longer and longer! I'm thinking of making them friends along with Alaric… would be interesting, huh?
(2) So there were a lot of revelations in this chapter! I'd love to know what y'all think, especially Bree's words. And OMG the Stanley Silverstone plot… did I blow your minds away? I've got huge plans for that plotline! I also enjoyed writing our little murder mystery… the perp was thorough, huh.
(3) SPN Timeline: We're done with Asylum!
On another note, I am currently halfway through Interference - The Hybrid Witch, so the next chapter will be updated in the next few days as I am making it extremely long.
Next chapter of this will come out after at least 10 Reviews. Since I'm deviating a lot, I would really like to know your thoughts and if you're enjoying the plot and the changes I made from The Cinderella Story. Please, leave some Reviews so I know how I'm doing.
R&R.