Mystic Falls, VA September 25, 1864

Abigail was in her room when it started. The darkness outside her window was mirrored by the darkness swirling inside her bedroom. This was very different from the normal shifting she usually experienced. She was watching while perched on her bed, curious at the change, while Sallie sat at the vanity.

Sallie had returned hours earlier. She couldn't find Emily. And she also hadn't run into Damon. While Abi was sad about the first, she was happy about the second.

She had told Sallie about her chat with Giuseppe. About the round-up and she'd confessed about her own strange quirk. As they sat together, digesting how unusual their current state of affairs were, the darkness had reappeared. The sun had begun to set and Abigail and told Sallie of the sudden change.

And so, they sat and waited to see what the darkness would reveal. Sallie watched as Abigail studied the swirling hovering cloud. She noticed things she hadn't paid attention to before. Such as the way she focused on certain parts of the ceiling, where Sallie could see nothing at all, but apparently where she could see something gathering. Also, Abi seemed to notice a focus shift, because she would shift, her body would move toward a new part of the room seemingly unaware of the shift. It was fascinating.

As the darkness outside became overwhelming, Sallie saw Abigail take a breath and her eyes widened. She was holding back from screaming and then from outside shots rang out. And Abigail held the screams no longer.

Unlike the usual exhaustion, the darkness took her immediately, which Sallie felt was a blessing. Her screams were heart wrenching. She couldn't speak, as she usually did, and tell her what happened or what she saw. Only a heart piercing shriek of pain, as though what she saw broke her heart and made her want to die at the same time. So when she passed out, it was a blessing.

Sallie covered her and sat back down. She wondered why shots rang out and who they were aimed at and by. Then she realized, looking at the tears she streaming down Abigail's face, that maybe she truly didn't want to know.

What Abigail had seen, coming out of the shadows of darkness, that bloomed into a fully colored vision as those shots rang out, were the deaths of Damon and Stefan Salvatore at the hands of their father.

She'd seen the Founders' council working in tandem to fetch all those vampires in the town of Mystic Falls. Twenty-seven as Giuseppe had told her, were being carted off to Fells' Church and then the plan was to burn them, a terrible civilian tragedy of war. Vervain darts and laced blood would help to weaken the vampires, making rounding them up easier. Fire, easier than staking or beheading, would be the quickest death and it would take them all.

Giuseppe failed to realize how deeply attached his two sons were to Katherine Pierce. Whether through compulsion or obsession, they both wanted her. And so, as she was the last on the road to Fells' Church, he hadn't expected to be forced to come face to face with the two of them. Nor had he expected to be forced to be put in the position of the town's safety or his sons' lives. Shutting his eyes, he made the hardest decision he would ever think of making, and then he shot them both in the heart.

Mystic Falls, VA September 26, 1864

Damon awoke at Steven's Quarry, knowing that he'd died at the hands of his father and knowing that he and Stefan had failed at saving Katherine. Stefan woke moments later, he too knowing his death came from Giuseppe and failure. Emily was nearby with their daylight rings, a gift from Katherine and another reminder of their failure.

As Damon sat near the water, working hard to remove a stain that would never come clean, his brother worked just as hard to convince him to transition. He wouldn't. The entire point of transitioning was to be with Katherine. Spending eternity with his brother wasn't the life he imagined or wanted. And to be honest, it was his fault that it ended this way. Gullible Stefan, always believing the best in everyone had honestly thought his father would give Katherine a reprieve?

Then Stefan dropped the biggest bomb of all. His ultimate life plan. "I need to transition, Damon, and I want you to because we need to find Abigail." His dark eyes shining in the morning light. Damon's head shot up. "She's going to be my wife. I promised her. And I want to make good on that promise."

Damon's eyes locked onto Stefan's. He remembered doing the unthinkable to Abigail. He'd KILLED her. Or at least attempted to. And then he'd locked her in a tomb. He pressed his face into his wet hands and prayed he was imagining the memory. Surely he'd never do that to his best friend. His eyes closed, he remembered his hands, the ones pressed against his face, closing around her impossibly small neck and squeezing. How he felt her stop breathing. How he watched as the life left her light green eyes. And how he carried her dainty body across the fields to the family crypt and slid her into his great grandfather's tomb and closed it. Locking her inside. Just to impress Katherine. He roared with pain.

He fought to recall their last conversation, but all he could remember was the dance at the party. They hadn't spoken, not beyond her agreement to dance with him. He squinted at the faultiness of his memory, of course they'd spoken since he'd returned. He sought her out and told her he was back. Surely they'd had moments. Surely. He glared at the emptiness. No, he'd danced with her and then he'd killed her.

He remembered her entering the house with his father the day after he'd done the unthinkable. Her covered in the dankness of death. And yet, she walked into the house with the carriage of a queen.

"No," he said, either to himself or to Stefan. "I won't." He shook his head. "Abi doesn't deserve to be visited by a monster." He turned his back to his traitorous brother. "She doesn't need us to ruin her future, brother. Especially since I've already tried to kill her once."

"She's immortal, Damon." Stefan said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Katherine tried to kill her twice." He was still standing, careful of the distance between the two of them. "Once when we couldn't find her, she broke her neck and left her in the gardens. She bragged to me and compelled me. I found her while you were were preoccupied with Katherine." Damon vaguely recalled coming down the stairs and seeing Abi in Stefan's arms. She'd looked so tiny and rumpled. "The second time was later that night. She ripped her throat out. She laughed so much about it, but her blood made Katherine sick." Stefan kept eye contact to prove he wasn't lying. "You couldn't have killed her, not even if you kept trying. Don't you see, Damon?"

No, he didn't see. Just because it didn't take didn't mean it hadn't hurt her. He wouldn't go back and face her.

Stefan was insane. She didn't deserve his pathetic attempts to make her happy. And how could he even try? He didn't know her. Had they even had a single true conversation? Did he know anything that she enjoyed? Did he know her favorite foods? Her favorite color? Her favorite flower? Did he know how to make her laugh?

He tried to make sense of why he didn't seek her out when he came home. Abigail had been the entire purpose of his leave. He'd done something to get that leave that would weigh on him nearly as heavily as what he'd done to her on that porch swing. Yet, he hadn't even said hello to her. He hadn't said anything up until an hour before he killed her.

Sighing, he fell back and stared at the clouds drifting across the sky. He wondered, for the very first time, where Abigail was at this very moment. He didn't hear his brother leave. He didn't care about Stefan. He didn't matter. Only Abigail did. And for the first time in weeks did his focus return to where it should have been all along.