Mystic Falls, VA September 28, 1864~Late evening

They'd left Abigail's bedside after an hours long vigil that hadn't changed her state. Although Damon had seen a few more tears escape, he hadn't attempted to touch her hand again. He wouldn't chance his brother's wrath, not until he knew he could do something to fix the mess they'd created.

While Stefan left to create another bonfire with his dinner scraps, Damon considered who he knew that could shed any light on Abigail's current state. The only person remotely knowledgeable about the supernatural still available in Mystic Falls, who did not want Damon and his brother dead on sight, would be Emily Bennett. Unfortunately, he wasn't completely sure where she would have headed after giving Stefan and him their daylight rings.

Contemplating the options of a witch connected to a known vampire, he realized hiding in plain site was probably her best option. He went into what was once his father's office, and was now his brother's room of revenge. Stefan kept a list of the Founders' that he'd exacted vengeance upon. Damon theorized that the family not on the list was probably protected by Emily. A witch with things to hide, could hide entire families.

He found Stefan's list and fought down his stomach's lurching. Scanning the names, he found one family missing. Neither crossed out, nor waiting to be. And in that, he knew where Emily was.

Damon decided to wait until midnight to go to the house in search of Emily. Stefan would be preoccupied with three or four dinner companions, after having crossed a name or two off his list. That would give him time to have a nice conversation with Emily, unhurried and without fear of being spied upon.

As he left their house, Stefan offered him a young lady who bore a disturbing resemblance to Abigail for a drink. Damon glared at his brother before he could stop himself. Did he even realize how disturbed he was? Did he think it was amusing? Or was it a test? His eyes locked on to his brother's and he realized the latter was most likely true.

Smirking with the irritation of an older brother being interrupted from his night out, Damon took the girl in his arms and tried to forget what made her look like Abigail. Focus, he told himself, on what wasn't. As he leaned in to drink, his new stronger senses took over and cataloged all the differences. The hair was a shade darker, her scent was wrong, her eyes more blue than green, and she was inches taller. He drank sparingly, enough to make Stefan happy, but not enough to kill the girl.

Handing her back, and wiping his mouth on his handkerchief, he moved toward the door. "Thank you, brother." He said, trying to keep his tone light. "Now I can be focused while I hunt for a more fulfilling meal."

"Why leave, brother?" Stefan taunted, pulling the poor exchange for Abigail firmly against his chest. "I brought more than enough to share." He leaned toward the girl and began to bite.

"I have plans," Damon said, tearing his eyes away, trying to get the image out of his head. "I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

He left then, trying to forget the sound of the girl crying as his brother tore at her throat, because of all the ways she was different from Abigail, that was the way they were most similar. Their voices, she hadn't spoke when he bit her, but as he walked out of the front door, she was begging Stefan to make the pain stop. To let her die. And in that voice, he heard Abigail.

Outside the house that Emily had taken refuge, Damon waited. Although midnight, he knew that the Bennett witch kept her own hours. As he watched, she exited the back door and made her way across the lawns, he followed keeping his distance until they were away from the lights of the house. Once that only a sliver of moon lit them, he let her know for certain he was behind her.

She nodded and led him to a copse of trees just off the road nearest the house where she was staying. Inside the circle, he waited as she whispered an incantation, knowing that she was hiding them from prying eyes.

"Hello, Emily." He said, when she finished. Her head tilt was the only answer he received, so he continued. "I assume you know about Stefan's current destructive path." When she again said nothing, he kept going. "Abigail is at the house as well."

"Abigail?" She whispered, confused. "She was supposed to leave." Her brow furrowed. "Her baggage, everything is gone."

He looked down, knowing all of this mess started when Emily's mistress had moved in. "She didn't. When I killed her," his voice grew quiet, "and buried her, she decided against leaving. She had missed the coach and ship. My father and Abigail, when he found her in our family tomb, they became closer." His eyes burned thinking about how affectionate they'd seemed when they entered the house not two days before. "She was staying."

Emily sighed and shook her head in angry frustration. "The imbalance in this town, and in nature is so great already, it's creating massive chaos." She glared at Damon. "Your brother, he wants what he cannot have. She is what he cannot hope to have." She was clenching her hands so tightly that her nails were biting into the palms, and blood was beginning to rise to the surface. "Where is she now?"

Damon looked up and she could see the pain and anguish in his eyes. "In her bedroom, she hasn't been awake since my brother ripped apart our father and every slave and Sallie and created something theatrical to show his affection." He was angry and felt horrible. "It was too much for her, Emily. I felt it," he didn't understand how it worked but tried to explain the shared feelings through the touching he'd done.

Emily nodded. "Perhaps it's best Abigail stay in the state she's in," she said, still tense. "If he cannot force her to make a choice, through horrific means, then she's safe."

Damon considered it, but feared that Abigail wouldn't withstand being terrorized by her own pain and grief on repeat. "She's trapped in darkness, Emily. All she has is the memories of the last terrors she felt and experienced. How is that better?"

The witch began pacing within their circle of trees. She was trying to decide how to make Abigail's "sleep" easier. Could she create a room, much like her own bedroom, that Abigail could "live" in until Stefan could be contained? She would have to contact the ancients, and it would take a day or two fully create the spell, but she realized one more issue.

"Damon, if I could create something to replace the darkness, her body would still be at his mercy." She looked at the Salvatore in front of her and saw the dawning of fear fall over him as well. "Where would you hide her?"

Damon knew it wouldn't be simple, but keeping Abigail out of his brother's insane clutches had to be given at least a try. He was thinking even as they both began pacing, their thoughts working toward the same goal, with different parts to plan.