Morgan House~ February 2010
Abigail had found the safe. It was hidden in the room Damon had chosen for her. Unlocking it with one of the keys on the keyring she'd found in the desk drawer, she found a clutch of papers that made less sense than the letter she'd found in the grimoire.
Somehow she had identification. New, modern if the look and feel of them were any indication. Virginia State identification card, social security card, and banking information, plastic cards that had her name on them as well. How they came to be hidden in this safe was another mystery. Add it to her growing list.
Contemplating a trip to the bank to use her newly acquired IDs, she wasn't surprised to hear a knock on the front door. Groaning loudly and expecting Damon to be waiting, she walked slowly downstairs. As she approached the door, she called out a warning to him, reminding him that she didn't want to see him.
"Damon, I told you, your invitation was rescinded." Opening the door, she felt her eyes widening as she encountered a different Salvatore and the woman from the photo on Damon's phone.
"Ah." She said, stepping out of reach, just in case. "Unexpected guests."
"Abi," Stefan said, surprised to see her standing in front of him wearing a pretty short dress and Keds.
"Stefan." She replied, no fear present in her countenance. "And Elena Gilbert." She nodded politely to his companion. "To what do I owe this, I can't honestly say pleasure, visit."
Standing in front of her, Elena was struck by how tiny she was, yet her bearing was so regal. Even displeasure didn't make her face unattractive. She didn't offer them entrance, and Elena could appreciate the caution.
"We wanted to check on you." Elena offered.
Returning her attention to the Gilbert girl, Abigail was amazed to find she was being sincere. Odd on the face of Katherine Pierce.
"Does it ever feel wrong to be with someone whose looks are identical to her, but her personality is entirely different, Stefan?" She asked, still studying Elena. Not allowing him a chance to answer, she answered the girl's concern. "Thank you for your concern. I'm fine. Used to being alone. I've had 146 years to grow accustomed."
She moved to shut the door. "He's miserable." Stefan offered. "It's how I realized you were awake. Elena caught him staring at a photo of you he's had hidden away all this time."
She glanced into the eyes of the boy she'd barely known. He became a monster once, but now, standing before her was the young man he should have been. The one she'd believed she could have grown to love, or at least live with for a lifetime.
"I'm sorry, Stefan." She answered, going for nonchalant, but hearing her own pain. "He never thought of me after he ran from this town, and he admitted to returning only for HER. If he's miserable, which I'm certain he'd recover from soon enough, he's earned it. Now, as lovely as this visit hasn't been, I have some errands to attend to, and you're keeping me."
Stefan nodded. Arguing with Abigail would get them nowhere. "Goodbye, Abi." He said, turning away. "I am happy you're safe and back."
He caught her curt nod as she shut the door. Elena glanced at him, but saw that he wasn't going to speak just yet. Getting in their vehicle, and starting back, he finally answered.
"Arguing gets you nowhere with Abigail." He said, shaking his head when she wanted to argue. "I lived in the same house with her, Elena. Damon never won an argument with her. Other than once."
"When your mother was dying." Elena remembered Damon's story coming back from Atlanta. "He told him about being on the same page with your father for once."
Stefan nodded, remembering the pain of losing his mother. "That was the only time, and I think it was simply because it was less argument and more grief."
Elena understood. Her next question was one he had no answer for, however. "How do we fix this?"
1st National Bank of Mystic Falls
Abigail smiled at the teller standing before her as the woman checked her identification against the bank documents.
"Everything is in order, Miss Morgan. Your balance will be at the bottom of your receipt, but if you'd like to make an appointment to speak with an account manager to check your other accounts we can make those arrangements as well." Her smile was generic, but Abigail maintained her dignity.
"Thank you, Sara. I'll set an appointment at a later date." She took the envelope containing her money and IDs and turned to leave. She needed to shop for more clothes, and look into a cell phone like Damon had shown her how to use. Where to first?
Exiting the bank, she felt a pang of hunger. Food then. Glancing around she noticed a building with a sign reading "Mystic Grille". Promising if the smells wafting toward her from its direction, she crossed the street, careful of cars. The smell of cooking food grew as she moved closer to the door.
Entering, she took a moment to adjust to the change in light and the noise. Ugh, these people and the need for music, banging, clanging all the time. A young blonde man in a shirt sporting the name of the establishment over his heart.
"Table, booth, or bar?" He asked, smile genuine.
Biting her lip, she allowed him to pick. He gestured for him to follow her and pulled out a stool at the bar for her to sit on.
"Sorry, but my boss prefers single customers here, unless you ask for different arrangements."
"It's fine, thank you." She smiled as he handed her the menu. She was focused on ignoring the noise, and studying the overwhelming amount of choices offered on the menu that she didn't realize she was being watched.
From a table behind where Matt had seated her, Damon sat with Ric who had forced him out of the house. Nursing a bourbon, he had turned as soon as she entered and watched her progress to her seat. She was still wearing the dress he'd picked out, this time she'd paired it with the denim jacket and boots. She'd also managed to braid her hair into a long rope over her shoulder. God, she was beautiful.
Ric's eyes followed his. She was a tiny thing. Her hair was long enough to hang to her waist, even braided. He couldn't see her face, but Damon was locked on her.
"Do I need to rescue that young woman from your clutches, Damon?" He teased, knowing that whatever was bothering Damon could end up making him dangerous to unwitting strangers.
When Damon pulled his eyes from the girl's back, and locked onto Ric's, his friend saw a pain he'd never seen on the other's face. "If there is any one person in this God forsaken town that's completely safe from me, it's her."
"Who is she, Damon?" Ric asked, watching the torment on Damon's face as she interacted with Matt. Taking her drink and ordering lunch.
"She was the dream," he said, knocking back his drink. "And she despises me."
Ric gestured to a passing waitress, signally for another round. "What's her name? And why haven't I ever heard about her?"
Damon wanted to get up and leave, but he felt rooted to his seat. He watched as Abigail interacted with Donavan. Her easy smile, which he got a flash of when she realized her stool could spin, and the light in her eyes at the ease she was finding in fitting in made it impossible. When she sat, asking the useless blonde questions about the menu's offerings while sipping ice water, Damon choked out the tragic backstory to Ric. Everything from meeting to their last encounter.
Ric listened, not only to the story, but to the pain he heard in Damon's voice. Damon, the vampire he equated with all the bad traits that he fought against, was sounding incredibly human.
Damon finished the tragic tale of love and loss, and knocked back another drink. Abigail had settled on a simple salad, and he watched as Donavan was joined by Caroline in keeping her company. If he chose, he could eavesdrop, but even he had limits on what he'd do. Especially since she asked him to stay away.
"Why are you sitting here, moping?" Ric asked, darting attention between the two. "You love her, you dumbass. Fight for her."
Damon raised an eyebrow. "She told me to stay away, Ric. And she always gets what she wants."
Ric rolled his eyes. "She's pissed because you gave in, Damon." He was amazed by how easily Damon was rolling over. ""Women, especially those in love for as long as she's been, want to come first. You failed her and admitted to it. Now you grovel and plead with her for forgiveness. If that doesn't work, presents. If that doesn't work, you find the one thing she wants more than you, and give it to her. The point is, dick, don't give up."
Damon, still watching as Abigail effortlessly charmed Caroline, Donavan, and anyone who came into her orbit, was listening to Ric's advice. Weighing it against their conversations since he transitioned, he realized her issues were obvious. Everything had gone downhill as soon as she saw the picture with Elena. And, of course his confession about Katherine.
"Dammit." He snarled at himself. "Giving up isn't really my style anyway." His swagger coming back, slowly but surely. He was considering how to bring her around to even entertaining the sight of him. "Abigail is notoriously headstrong, Ric. How do you fight for someone who won't even allow you in her orbit?"
While Abigail sat barely ten feet away from Damon, Ric educated his pal on how to break through to an angry, hurt lover. And for once, his friend paid attention, because if there was any possibility of getting Abigail back into his arms, then he'd do it.
