Dark Side.
Chapter 30: Katerina. Part II.
The A.C. in Rose's SUV is on at full force, enough that the constant blowing in Cassandra's face becomes annoying. Even when she's siting in the spacious comfort of the back seat. At least, Richmond isn't that far away from Mystic Falls, which is an excellent thing not just because it means escape from the A.C.'s wrath—truth is, she's not even cold—but because conversation has grown stale, and tension is building.
Speaking so truthfully, revealing so much about her past all at once felt like getting open-heart surgery and having the doctor lift up her heart for her to see up close. Not because it was overly painful, but because it felt exposing to such a degree she might as well have walked into the Boarding House naked. After, the memories had bombarded her so suddenly, so unexpectedly. Memories that gave rise to feelings and emotions she thought were dead and buried in an impenetrable grave. Feelings that piled on top of all that she's been feeling since hearing Elena had been kidnapped yesterday until she felt like she was drowning. It's a wonder she remained control of her magic.
When Damon approached her to tell her he and Rose were going to Richmond to speak with some guy named Slater—the reason Rose knows so much about her, and Mystic Falls, and how to contact Elijah—and if she wanted to come, Cassandra barely held in her surprise. Not because of the information being given, she'd heard the entire conversation between the two of them without even having to try, but because of the invitation.
She figured Damon would avoid her when he could and remain uninvolved when avoiding her simply wasn't a possibility. Instead, he's been acting like last night didn't even happen, behaving just as he always does with her like she didn't propose they enter a relationship with each other only twelve hours ago. Okay, she didn't propose a relationship, but that's where things would have progressed to if his answer to 'what am I to you?' hadn't been 'my friend', juxtaposing every single interaction they've had ever.
It's fine. Great, actually. Of course, it'd be better if she knew whether he's at least thinking about what she said, but she's more than happy to pretend like last night didn't happen. Last night was a moment of weakness that granted her a clear head. Even if she catches him gazing at her, she will no longer fool herself into believing there's anything there.
She's happy with it.
It's fine.
Except she isn't happy. Except it's not fine. The man she's loved for a century and a half can't even fathom the idea of being with her romantically. What's there to be happy about?
So, she rides in the backseat as Rose drives and Damon sits shotgun, quiet. Rose attempted conversation as soon as they left the house, but the light small talk died out twenty minutes into their journey.
"Cassandra?" Rose asks. She turns from the window, inquisitive hum passing her lips. "I've been wondering." Rose peers at Damon for a moment, before turning back to the road. "You knew about the Originals and The Curse all along. Why didn't you tell them?"
"I told Damon part of it."
"You skipped some important parts." He shoots back immediately.
She can't tell if he's angry or not, but she's guessing he is.
"Yes, well, I didn't think you'd handle it too well." She shrugs, refusing to apologize.
It's not like he hasn't kept things from her in the past.
"Hey, I'm the poster child for handling bad news." He argues, pretending to be insulted as he turns to look at her.
He's not actually insulted. Or that angry, she realizes as their eyes meet.
"Of course, you are." She faux-pouts, tone drenched in sarcasm.
Damon rolls his eyes at her, turning back on his seat. It isn't until Rose quietly clears her throat that she realizes she never gave a real answer.
"The official story was that Katherine didn't bear any children." Cassandra explains. "No children made the possibility of a Petrova Doppelgänger a little harder. I was hoping no one would ever know Elena existed. No need to worry her over something that would hopefully never happen."
"Oh." Rose nods. Cassandra frowns, not understanding why she sounds disappointed. "I thought you kept it secret because you'd hand her over yourself."
"Less competition, right?" she hums, not serious in the least.
While that was most definitely Katherine's plan, and it still would be if she wasn't living underneath the church, Cassandra has never been on board with it. If it were up to her, The Sun and The Moon Curse would never be broken at all. It allows and ensures balance around the world, an even playing field between two of the most powerful supernatural species. She was, however, willing to help Katherine when she first arrived, having never met Elena or cared for her. She's never admitting to that.
"Well, yes." Rose nods, glancing at Damon for a second.
"That's more Katherine's thing," she says. "And yours."
Silence stretches after her comment. She doesn't regret it, isn't willing to take it back. Rose might as well have ruined her life, her friends' lives, she doesn't deserve her pity. Damon reaches over and turns on the radio.
After another twenty minutes of uncomfortable silence, Rose pulls into a parking lot. An underground parking lot, to be precise. It is attached to a small shopping centre, where there's a coffee shop, where this guy Slater supposedly spends most of his time in. Of course, this is all based on what Rose told them, as Cassandra didn't even see her text Slater, or call. Rose parks the car near the entrance door, without having to search much for a spot, with ease, like this is where she parks every day.
"Back entrance, how convenient." Damon comments as they get out of the car.
There's nothing special about the parking lot: same light grey concrete walls that's expected from a place like this, polished concrete floors, colored bands around the pillars to identify the different areas. Rose parked in the yellow area, clearly marked on the pillar two spots away from the car, and the wide entrance door that's a shade of yellow lighter, bright and bothersome to the eye.
"That's the point. We can't all have little daylight rings." Rose teases.
Damon wiggles his hand, showing his own daylight ring for Rose to see. And probably seethe with envy over. Getting a witch to agree to spell a daylight ring can be tricky. They don't generally trust vampires, and hate disrupting the balance. Sunlight is a deadly weakness to vampires, shielding them from it in such a way is considered cheating. Cassandra can't imagine what it'd be like to spend over five hundred years missing the sun.
"How do you know this Slater guy is even here?" Damon asks on the way to the door.
"I called him." Rose retorts. When? "He's here; he's always here."
Right, because that doesn't sound suspicious at all. Cassandra and Damon share a look, both unconvinced, both more cautious now that ever.
"Good," Damon says, casual, before flashing forward.
He slams against Rose, pressing her against the pillar to their right with enough force that Rose's spine protests. To a young vampire like Damon, such force would have hurt a considerable amount—at least Cassandra thinks, she can't remember what pain was like at 170. To someone as old as Rose, who is older than even Cassandra, it must be nothing but annoying. Rose looks up at him, boredom and annoyance twisting her face into a frown.
"If you're setting me or Cassandra up in any way, I will rip out your heart and shove it down your throat." Damon sneers at her, lifting his index finger up in warning before adding, faux-sweet: "Something I'm very good at."
Rose sighs, glaring at him for a second, before pushing his arms away. In the next breath, she's twisting Damon's dominant arm behind his back, and slamming him face-first against the car. The bang! of protest coming from the car is almost loud enough to mask the groan of pain Damon involuntarily allows. It echoes around the quiet parking lot.
"I am older than you, and stronger. Don't get on my bad side." Rose warns.
Cassandra takes two steps closer, wondering if this is gonna end up with her stepping in and stopping Rose from actually hurting Damon. Instead, Rose pushes him against the car once more before releasing him. She steps away, leaving a non-threatening distance between them.
"You can trust me," says Rose. Her eyes shift from Damon to Cassandra. "Both of you."
She's not sure if that's true, but Rose seems genuine. Besides, if push does come to shove, Cassandra can take care of it quickly enough. Rose doesn't strike her as the kind of person with enough fighting knowledge to best her.
Damon pushes himself from the car, frowning. Cassandra lets out a quiet laugh at the look on his face, pressing her fingers to her mouth to stop it. Why did he think he'd be able to stop a vampire that much older than him? Just because he usually gets to stop her doesn't mean he's stronger. It just means she lets him win.
"Shut up." He mutters, beginning to walk towards the door.
"I haven't said anything." She shakes her head, following after him.
"Your face did."
"She's over five hundred years old!" She laughs, like the joke is obvious.
Damon frowns down at her, not even slightly amused. She doesn't let it affect her. Life is short, she'll revel in whatever brings her amusement from now on as much as she can. Unfortunately for him, that which brings her amusement in this precise moment is his utter failure.
"Whatever, she got the point." Damon grumbles.
"I can't believe you thought you'd be stronger." She barely holds back more laughter. Openly mocking him might not be polite, but, wow, the hubris. "At least attempt to have the element of surprise!"
"Hmh, noted."
Damon rolls his eyes,corners of his lips quivering into what would have been a smirk but ends up as a smile when he laughs. There may be absolutely no chance of them being anything more, but the sight of Damon laughing is still as wonderful as always. Just like the way his hand feels against her upper back when he opens the door and lets her walk in first.
The Hideout is the most hipster establishment Cassandra has had the misfortune of stepping into. Pendant lighting, blackboard menus, and posters with catchy slogans behind the counter mix with the minimalist main seating area. The tables are all the same—square, white, with metal legs instead of wooden—but the chairs differ from table to table, and on the far-right wall by the door there's a space made up of distressed couches and varnished coffee tables, all worn but definitely not second hand. The couches are surrounded by small mountains of books and stacks of magazines. It's a strange mix, especially because the walls are all white, and in her mind the color clashes with the overall theme. What really grasps her attention, however, is the wall right in front of her. The first thing she noticed when entering, well before she payed attention to anything else.
Because the wall isn't a wall, but a floor-to-ceiling, left-to-right window.
"Whoa, what about the sunlight?"
Damon's stunned question takes her focus away from the rest of the coffee shop, stopping her from getting a good look at the stack of books by the sofa closest to them. It's a fair question, specially since Rose is standing next to him without a care in the world.
"Double-pained and tempered. UV rays can't penetrate." Rose explains, nearing the counter. "See the appeal now?"
Fitting name.The Hideout. Cheesy, too.
"That and the free WiFi."
The man that approaches them with a big smile and immediately gathers Rose up in his arms is not what Cassandra expected. Tall, dirty blond, attractive enough that she could let the hipster thing slide.
"What are you doing here, Rose?" he asks, surprised delight coloring his voice.
Whatever suspicion Cassandra had left evaporates. Slater might have information that's hard to come by, but he's harmless. Inherently happy. Cassandra can see it, the lightness he emanates. This man doesn't collect information for survival. She's a little jealous, but that is something else she is not willing to admit aloud.
"It's a long story." Rose hesitates, stepping out of the hug. She gestures to Damon, keeping her focus on Slater. "I want you to meet—"
"Damon Salvatore." Slater finishes for her. He turns to face Damon, smiling with veiled excitement. "Turned 1864, Mystic Falls, by Cassandra Woodhouse." The shock at Slater knowing that for a fact is overshadowed quickly by the discomfort Cassandra feels when Slater turns to her with his big blue eyes and thrumming energy. "And Cassandra Woodhouse, the oldest-living true hybrid in the entire world, turned 1498 by Katherine Pierce, a.k.a. Katerina Petrova."
What the fuck? Damon turns to her, the look on his face clearly asking if she knows this guy. She shakes her head lightly, frowning. For a harmless guy, Slater sure knows how to creep people out. If Slater notices her and Damon's discomfort, he doesn't acknowledge it.
"It's a honor to meet you, Your Highness." Slater continues, offering his hand for her to shake.
This time, however, Cassandra fights the urge to cringe for a whole other reason. Not only do they have a walking encyclopaedia on their hands, but he's also a geek. Great.
"Let me guess. You have a degree in history with a focus on late medieval England." Cassandra comments, polite, though her mind is screaming a continued rant of:oh, no,ew, stop.
"Yes, how did you know?" Slater's smile doesn't waver.
"Lucky guess." She takes his outstretched hand. Her mouth does not stretch into a smile. Not even a polite one. "Cassandra is fine."
"Cassandra, right." Slater nods, releasing her hand only to offer his own to Damon. "It's nice to meet you, too."
Damon shakes his hand once, without a word, but Cassandra can tell he's just as peeved as her. Rose seems to be the only one strangely at ease with Slater's constant information spouts. Slater eyes Damon, finally seems to notice neither he or Cassandra are in a particularly giving mood, and turns to Rose. The smile on his face finally dims.
"What's going on Rose?" he asks. "Where's Trevor?"
Rose doesn't answer. In fact, she doesn't even breathe, just looks at Slater for a tense four seconds.
"Awkward," Damon whispers in her ear, mocking.
Cassandra slaps his stomach slightly, a gesture that means 'stop it.' Still, she has to press her lips into a tight line so neither Rose nor Slater will notice the smile she's trying to contain. It's not funny. At all. But it is, especially since she has no sympathy for Trevor or Rose. And Slater still seems to be weirdly excited.
"Can we talk?"
Rose gestures towards the tables, her question meaning 'can we sit down for this?' and not 'let's carry this conversation further.'
"Of course." Slater agrees. "Find a table; I'll get us some coffee."
With that, he steps back towards the counter, turning to the lone barista working today. Rose smiles after him, a small smile that's more defeated than anything else, and turns to face the rest of the coffee shop. She goes to step towards the left, where the sofas are, before halting and doing a full 180, leading the way to the window instead. Cassandra follows, not thinking much of it. Rose probably just wants to be closer to the sunlight.
"Your Highness?" Damon repeats with that tone that manages to be both mocking and appalled.
"Shut up." Cassandra grumbles, scrunching up her nose in mild disgust.
She hates historians.
The coffee Slater brings over to the table isn't the best, even when the whole place smells like freshly ground coffee, suggesting good quality beans. Slater kindly provided a simple cup of black americano for each one of them, but it somehow manages to be watery and taste burnt at the same time, the kind of problem no amount of sugar or milk can fix. Cassandra takes two sips and nothing more.
Not in the mood to do any kind of self-reflection in order to answer the many questions Slater is sure to come up with, Cassandra lets her companions tell the story that led them here.
She hears Rose's retelling of the terrifying moments prior to Elijah's arrival, the savaged way in which he murdered Trevor, witnesses the tears threatening to spill from Rose's eyes and feels absolutely nothing but irritation over the dramatism of it all. There's nothing beautiful about death. There's no need to turn it into poetry.
Damon takes over after, and plainly finishes his part of the story with how Cassandra staked Elijah. He doesn't mention the conversation she had with Elijah at all, doesn't even hint at it having happened, and she's so grateful she has to lean her chin on her propped up hand to cover her smile. A smile that threatens to stretch when Damon moves his elbow until it touches hers, with an expression too nonchalant for it to have been accidental.
She takes another sip of her burnt coffee, reminding herself to not read anything into it. She can't embarrass herself any further.
"And Elijah?" Slater asks, careful.
"Is dead," Cassandra says before Rose can get any ideas.
"Beyond dead," adds Damon.
"Not even a ghost." She quips, not missing a beat. Slater glances between her and Damon, before looking at Rose, seeking confirmation from the person in this room he actually trusts. So, Cassandra does the same. "Right, Rose?"
"Right." She agrees, slow, reluctant for but a second as she smiles at Slater.
Thankfully, Slater believes her. He's more likely to help if the looming threat of Elijah is gone, Cassandra figures. He'll give out just as much information about the Originals as he did about them if he feels safe. And they need him to spill the beans.
Damon wants to contact and most likely kill Niklaus, which is an insane plan she is not letting him carry through. She, however, would like to find out just how close Niklaus is. That'll determine how long they actually have. How long she has to... well, she doesn't know what, but something, for sure.
If Slater knew how to reach out to Elijah, he might know someone willing to contact Niklaus as well. Heaven knows Marcel is not about to do that for her. Regardless of what she has to offer in exchange. Which is nothing at this moment in time, but she could figure something out.
Keeping Slater happy is a top priority. Damon agrees, which is why, when Slater glances away from Rose and back to them, they flash him a smile. Hers, innocent and sweet. His, the kind of harmless polite that's believable only just.
"Trevor was a good man; he helped me with my dissertation on sexual deviance in the Baroque period." Slater laments, shoulders dropping. When his comment is only received with blank stares, he explains further: "I was schooling for my Psych PhD."
Cassandra blinks. A historian with... a psychology doctorate? She supposes that's about as strange as her getting a degree in mathematics decades after obtaining her own PhD in early modern literature. It's a useful way to pass the time. Still, Slater doesn't look like the type of person to study psychology. Unsure as she may be of what a psychology student ought to look like.
"Slater's been in college since '74." Rose jests, fond.
"When I was turned." Slater shrugs, good-humored. "I have 18 degrees, 3 masters, and 4 PhDs."
Oh, to be a young man without the constant fear of being hunted down by his enemies. If she didn't have to move around so much, she'd probably surpass him by a lot. Fuck the fact that her gender closed many doors for her in the past. Still does, if she's honest. Society hasn't advanced as much as they would like to believe. Slater would still be alive if he stayed human, is very proud of his own accomplishments, and Cass is, quietly, burning with envy.
When Damon rolls his eyes and scoffs:
"The point?" she makes a mental note not to mention she'd like to go back to college if they survive this whole mess.
"Exactly. I mean, what is the point? What should I be doing with my eternity?" Slater retorts, sarcastic. "If you have an answer, please, enlighten me."
The two men send each other frosty looks but say nothing.
"We need your help." Rose intervenes before there can be any sort of fighting for territory. "If someone wanted to get in touch with Klaus, how would you hook him up?"
"Craigslist." Slater shrugs, matter-of-fact.
Cassandra snorts, thinking it some dumb joke. Even Rose leans towards dubious. Slater, however, appears to be serious.
"Really?" deadpans Damon.
"Seriously. I respond to a personal ad to get sent to somebody who knows somebody who knows Elijah," Slater insists, trailing off as he comes to the realization that his contact is no longer useful. "Who's dead and that's where my connection ends."
The three of them who know the truth share glances. Rose rises her eyebrows in a question that's all 'shall we come clean?' but smugger. Damon frowns. They can't contact Elijah. Unless they're willing to gamble with their own lives.
"So, the only way you know to find out where Klaus is—" Cassandra can't help but chuckle at the irony. "is to speak with Elijah?"
"Well, that or... magic." Slater gestures toward her.
The courteous nod he grants her with reminds her of her own powerlessness.
"You think if I could, I wouldn't have tried that by now?" she demands, bitter, slumping against the backrest of her seat.
Niklaus has cloaked himself from her since that fateful night in Chicago, eighty-eight years ago. Probably so he can have the last laugh, appearing, unexpected, to kill her, twisting their agreement. Tense, awkward silence follows her words. Rose sips at her coffee, avoiding Slater's eyes.
"Here's what I don't get," Damon starts. One look at him alerts her of the fact that he's clearly thinking out loud. "Elijah moved around during the day, which means the Originals knew the secret of the day ring. Now, why would Klaus want to lift the Curse?"
Cassandra turns to Slater, curious. If he knows the answer to that question, every single negative thought she's had about this establishment, about him, will dissolve into one single emotion: absolute gratitude. She'll kiss him. She'll bankroll his next PhD.
"To keep the werewolves from lifting it." Slater shrugs, tone of voice suggesting the answer is obvious. "If a vampire breaks the sun curse, then the werewolves are stuck with the curse of the moon forever, and vice versa."
Damon and Cassandra share another look. Slater's explanation is more or less what she said this morning. In her heart, however, she knows that's not it. That can't be it. Niklaus is a master when it comes to holding grudges, but even he can admit that werewolves are barely a threat. They're so scarce, they don't even have an impact in the food chain anymore. It'd be easier to commit mass genocide, kill werewolves into extinction, than to break the Curse at this point. Less steps, less magic.
"But werewolves are extinct." Rose objects.
"I've never seen one, but rumor has it..." Slater trails off, glancing at Damon.
"Not such a rumor." Damon agrees.
Slater's eyes widen to such a degree it becomes comical. Again, Cassandra is forced to lift the coffee cup to her mouth to mask her smile.
"Mystic Falls? God, I've got to visit this place. It sounds awesome!" Slater exclaims.
The clear excitement in his voice makes it difficult to not laugh aloud. She presses her lips into a tight line, angles her face away. Who would have thought Mystic Falls could incite such fanatism?
"Awesome doesn't even begin to describe it." Damon rolls his eyes, sarcastic. While she is more than amused by Slater's enthusiasm, Damon is the opposite. He's fed up. "Can we stop the curse from being broken at all?"
Her amusement is replaced by trepidation with such celerity her head spins. That would be a terrible idea. Worse than the one he had about killing Niklaus.
"What do you mean?" Slater asks.
"Well, if we make the moonstone useless, would it stop the curse from being broken?"
"I don't think that's possible." Cassandra interjects before Slater can give his opinion on the matter.
"I'm not asking you." Damon dismisses her with the lift of a hand, not looking away from Slater.
She doesn't miss the way his tone turns colder and knows it's a warning. The lighting before the thunder. But she's never been afraid of storms. And, how dare he dismiss her with a flick of a hand?
"I'm the witch, Damon!" She argues.
"And he's the walking-talking Library of Congress, Cassandra!" Damon looks at her with steel-hard eyes. She hates the way he speaks her name. "There might be a slight chance he knows something you don't."
Instead of wasting her time trying to figure out why he's suddenly furious, she scowls, and doesn't say anything else. She's more than happy to continue arguing, and the glint in Damon's eye suggests he is, too, but their companions might get tired of it soon enough.
When she makes eye contact with Rose, who seems to have watched the incident intently, her cheeks warm up. She averts her eyes, turns to Slater. It's not any better. Slater alternates between looking at her or at Damon. It's the first time since meeting them that he looks uncomfortable.You're being a brat, a little voice in the back of her head admonishes. Well, so is he, she grumbles back. Her embarrassment doesn't go anywhere, though.
"Um," Slater clears his throat, "yeah, probably."
"How?"
"Cassandra..."
"I'm just asking a question!"
They bark back and forth without looking at each other, and it makes Slater uneasy. He clears his throat again, exchanges one hesitant look with Rose, can't seem to decided whether to answer her or not.
"There's certain documentation on magical talismans becoming useless once the magic is drained from them. If the moonstone works as a binding talisman, I—I guess it could work in the same way. But I'd have to look it up." Slater explains, slowly. "Why would you want to do that?"
"Tell me how." Damon grits out through his teeth.
Maybe getting him mad wasn't the best idea. He looks about ready to punch the answers out of Slater. And he could. Damon might be no match for Rose, but Slater is no match for Damon. The only problem being Rose would intervene, and then she'd have to take on Rose. It'd be a highly inconvenient situation for a simple answer. Which is why, Cassandra thinks, Damon is focusing extra hard on breathing.
"You think I'm gonna help you figure out how to do something that will piss off an Original? And keeping them from walking in the sun?" Slater denies, scoffing.
"What if I get you a daylight ring?" she asks before Damon resorts to violence. "It's a simple sp—"
Before she can finish talking, a crashing sound resonates around the entire coffee house. Glass showers from the sky. A peculiar breeze pushes her hair back with uncharacteristic force. In the space of a blink, the wall to their right, the wall that was no wall at all but window, has been completely destroyed. Shattered into teeny tiny pieces.
Cassandra can't help the surprised gasp that leaves her, nor can she control the way every muscle in her body tenses. In front of her, Slater screams in pain, skin blistering as he flashes away. Several other customers do the same, screaming and shouting as they seek cover from the sunlight that is no longer safe for vampires.
Rose, who was closest to the window, can only crawl from her seat until she's underneath the table, poor cover from the sunlight. She cries and screams in pain, skin blistering into boils. Cassandra reaches for Rose's jacket, abandoned in her seat, and throws it at Damon, trusting him to take care of Rose.
She looks out the window, searching for anyone who would have reason to attack them. There isn't anyone she recognizes. Wrong time, wrong place? Could the attack have been aimed at someone else? No. This was meant to scare them, to let them know they're being watched. To let them know how vulnerable they really are.
Through the haze of panic that is her mind, through the thousand statements her brain is throwing at her, she can barely hear the chaos ringing through the coffee house. The screams and cries, the rumbles as everyone attempts an escape. She can, however, hear Damon calling her with perfect clarity.
Giving up on finding their assailant, Cassandra turns and flashes out of the coffee house, Damon and Rose by her side.
A/N: Here you go! Hope you liked it!
Eennio: Thank you so much!
Guest: I'm so happy you like it! Yes, there will be more to come on her relationship with the Originals. There's so much going on there, I'm still trying to find a way to fit it in! Stay tuned, and I hope you like this chapter, too!
StrangelyBeautiful3: It would be different, yes! And it might be coming soon!
Anyways, that's all on reviews for today. Just wanted to send out a big thank you to all of you who took your time to read this story, review it, follow it, and favorite it. Your support means a lot!
Stay safe out there, guys, and see you soon!
For the record: UPDATED 04/05/2020.