Cat was truly and honestly fine. He was also male, as Ric told her when she called and told him she was home. He'd taken him in for a check up with a veterinarian, just to be sure he wasn't afflicted by some horrible feral cat diseases, and had him updated on all his vaccinations. And while there, found out that Cat was male, but also wasn't about to create any other little Cats, since he'd been someone's pet prior to following Abigail home. He was neutered, and from Ric's tone, he felt deeply for the fluffy black purring beast's loss.
"Thank you," she smiled, her fingers sliding through the soft, silky fur and letting the rumble of his rhythmic motor soothe her. "I'm sorry I was gone so long."
"It's fine, Abi," and she felt that it might have been. He sighed. "I'm not sure you're going to like everything that's gone on while you were gone." He was leaving the school, and on his way to Jenna's. "I'll come by tomorrow, it'll be easier in person."
"That's fine," Abigail wanted a night to herself, to acclimate to her house. "I do need to go out for some groceries, but a night in sounds amazing." And it really did, after all the nights she'd spent in Gloria's, or being tutored by Marcel, not to mention the driving or the hotels. "Just text when you're on your way." Ric promised he would, and Abigail hung up, thinking she'd love to order in, but she wanted to try out her kitchen too. Damn the choices.
She was in the car, driving through town when she first spotted her. She'd know her anywhere and it wouldn't matter how closely she was dressed as Elena. Katherine Pierce could stand side by side with the younger, human version, wearing the exact same outfit down to the jewelry with her hair in the same style down to the strand, and Abi would point her out. It wasn't difficult. Katherine was just - Katherine.
Instead of doing something silly like wrecking her new vehicle, or hitting her with the car, Abigail continued on her way. She'd been warned. Katherine was alive, she was in Mystic Falls. While it was jarring to see her, it was not earth-shattering or world ending. And besides, Abigail needed food and other staples. Like perhaps, she'd attempt a drink or two, "Screwdrivers" weren't completely terrible by alcohol standards.
While Abigail was enjoying her time with Gloria in Chicago, Damon and the others were having the not so time of their lives in Mystic Falls.
While Caroline was working on her new vampire nature, it was tough going, even after Stefan convinced Bonnie to create her daylight ring. She'd accidentally fed on Matt, but Stefan had caught her before that had become a horror story and a nightmare she couldn't wake up from, and while it was still baby steps, she was learning that her OCD nature could be a virtue now.
Werewolves were a new reality, apparently, thanks to the information they'd managed to finagle from Isobel's office and her trigger happy assistant. Now if only Damon could confirm that's what Mason Lockwood actually was, which was where Ric came in.
Since Damon was not on the list of people Elena Gilbert wanted to throw a party with, Ric was just the man to help convince Jenna that a barbeque would hit the spot after all the ridiculously over the top Founders' Day spectacles everyone had been subjected to and were still being forced to endure. And since Jenna had been a schoolmate of none other than one Mason Lockwood, well she would definitely want to include him on the guest list. And since Ric put up with Damon, he'd have to be invited too.
He missed the update about Abigail Morgan's return, so Damon Salvatore had NO clue that as Ric's friend Jenna insisted he ask her to come. He didn't have a chance to prepare himself for the sight of her, wearing a pair of tight, tattered jeans and a loose fitting cream colored cable knit sweater hanging loose over a silky emerald green tank top. The pair of Keds he'd gotten her were on her feet and her hair was piled up on her head in a loose knot, and if he didn't know better, he'd think she'd been born exactly 25 years earlier.
She was carrying a platter of artfully arranged cookies, from one of the upscale bakeries in town, which she handed to Jenna while a smile that could knock a grown man to his knees. And he wanted her so badly that he almost forgot the entire reason for the damn barbeque until it walked up and introduced itself to her.
"I'm Mason Lockwood, I don't think I've had the pleasure," he was smiling down at Abi with what Damon imagined he thought was charm, and it made his stomach roll when she beamed up at him and took his offered hand.
"Abigail Morgan," those eyes of hers, damn it, why were they on HIM and not me, Damon wanted to growl, but Ric came up and clapped him on the back, breaking his focus.
"Ready?" Ric knew precisely where Damon's mind and focus was, and he also knew that it made no difference. He'd been at Abi's house that morning and she was different, more confident and comfortable. If Damon wanted to win her over, he was going to have to work a damn sight harder than he had before. "Let's get started."
Ric had woke Abigail up at an UNGODLY hour. Alright, to be fair, it was probably not that early if the person being woken up hadn't drank far too many screwdrivers. Her mouth felt like the deepest darkest desert that she'd ever had the misfortune to have read about, and her head, dear God, don't mention her head. How could anyone think drinking to excess was worth THIS?
The text alert, not normally that loud, seemed to pound against her skull. Over and over, even after she'd turned the volume off. And then, the knocking. Oh no, not the knocking. Ric took pity, and promising he had experience with her condition, prepared a remedy that she memorized while promising herself that she would NEVER ever ever need to use again. Once she was marginally more functional, they sat together in the same room where she and Bonnie had set her course so many weeks earlier and discussed what she'd missed while she was gone.
"He only told me he gave her his blood," Abigail was standing at the window, staring through the lace of the curtains at Cat lounging on the porch swing cushion. "He never mentioned -" She took a deep breath, poor Caroline, how her life must have been altered from normal and safe to - She couldn't imagine. "How is she?"
"Surprisingly good," Abigail turned and studied her friend. Ric wasn't lying and she shook her head. "Caroline might actually be built for vampirism, not that she would have chosen it."
"No, Katherine chose it," because Katherine Pierce loved chaos and taking the choices away from others. "And werewolves -" Abigail thought back to the night that Katherine killed her in her bedroom in the Salvatore mansion. She'd assumed that Abi was afflicted too. "I'd say I was surprised, but -"
"Why aren't you?" Ric was watching her, and while Abigail took most news calmly, this particular nugget was a little big bigger than the rest. "You barely blinked when I said the word, everyone else, including me brushed the idea off when Damon -" this caused an almost imperceptible twitch in the woman standing at the window framed by the filtered early morning sunlight. "When HE mentioned the theory."
Abi sighed and sat back down, in the overstuffed chair she'd found at a secondhand shop and fell in love with immediately. Curling her legs up, she explained to Ric the story of Katherine's attempts on her life, telling him about the night she visited her in her safest place, how she'd asked if Abigail had been inflicted with the moon curse. "I suppose, once she'd asked, it clicked. I even used the word," she remembered it, "werewolf." Shrugging her shoulder as though it didn't matter. "I thought if something as dark as she existed, why not something else, though I hardly knew what the word really entailed."
Ric's visit wasn't entirely pleasant, but it ended with an invitation to a gathering at Elena's house. And he wouldn't take no for an answer. Abigail agreed, chuckling as Cat sauntered in when she opened the front door to let Ric out. "He's a homebody," Ric muttered, watching Cat's tail disappear inside. "I'd come over to let him out after school, and he'd go, but he prefers the inside." The litter box was going to take getting used to, but she'd do it. "I'll see you later," a soft kiss on her forehead and Ric was down the porch steps and heading for his car. "I like the new look!" He called, leaving Abi shaking her head, but still smiling.
Abigail's new look, she had to laugh as she shut the door and considered Ric's invitation and her time away from Mystic Falls and around new people who pushed her out of her comfort zone. First was her hair, still long, but not to her waist any longer. She'd been talked into cutting it halfway down her back, a negotiation between her and a stylist in New Orleans that Marcel introduced her to. The man, flamboyant and hilariously tactless, also showed her how to wear it for different events or for easier care. He'd also helped her learn to apply makeup so she didn't look like her face had been "gangbanged by Crayola" whatever that meant.
She'd started wearing pants, yes dreaded pants, during her time in Chicago. Gloria's was a great place to mingle and enjoy socializing, but wearing dresses every night became a bit of a hassle, so she'd begun slowly, until finally she was comfortable in tight and tattered, loose and comfortable, she realized that she stood out in her dresses, but in pants? In pants, she blended in.
Alaric sent her Elena's address, and as she contemplated what to take to this get together as a gift, Cat wound himself around her ankles purring and she grinned. At least the irritation from drinking too much her first night back was behind her. Walking with Cat through her house, she thought coming home might not have been the bad idea that Gloria had seemed so certain it was.
A trip to the bakery, where the smiling woman behind the counter assured her that cookies were always welcome at a cookout, and they were boxed up with assurances that she'd packaged them according to allergens. Then the multiple thin boxes were tied together and bagged in a heavy shopping bag and Abigail was on her way. Another stop, this time at the antique store she'd found her favorite chair in, apologizing to the shop owner for being in a rush but asking for what she was in need of - a large platter to arrange the cookies she'd bought, with enough room so no one would die from these mysterious allergens she'd been forewarned about in the bakery.
Cheekily grinning, the older man shook his head and muttered about how he'd eaten every damn thing put on his plate or offered him from birth onward and never once suffered more than a bit of indigestion, but nowadays the pansy assed youth seemed to be near death if they so much as looked at a chocolate chip, he weaved through his amply stocked, yet surprisingly well organized store. He found a gorgeous platter, generous enough to leave room between the different types of cookies, even if she re-wrapped them carefully, separately he offered with an eyeroll and a muttered "snowflakes".
Abigail bought it, and promised to come back on a day she had more time. He squinted and then seemed to remember her. "I haven't seen you since you bought the chair," another shake of his head as he carefully wrapped her platter. "Thought you figured out the error of your decision to move to this damn town and got the Hell out of Dodge." He tucked the platter in her shopping bag of cookies, managing to make it fit and snug. "Welcome back, even if this damn place seems cursed."
Abi bit her lip, thinking that he barely knew the half of it, but then she saw the business card next to the till. His last name was one she knew, a long time past. "You're from a founding family." It slipped out, but as her eyes met his she saw his gaze sharpen slightly. "I am too, the last Morgan, I guess you missed that part."
"Didn't miss it at all, Abigail." He said it simply, but with a finality that said the subject was closed. "You have a good day now."
"You too," she offered, wondering if she'd be welcomed back in the shop again.
Driving through the streets of the town she once knew so well, but had changed so much in the 146 years she'd been "indisposed" was almost surreal. More so now that she was seeing it from this view. Behind the steering wheel of her own vehicle, driven under her own volition, with a platter of individually wrapped and - fearful that one of Alaric's guests would grow ill - marked cookies carefully perched on the passenger's seat next to her with the messenger bag she'd grown used to carrying on the floor in front of it.
She should be nervous, Abi realized, since this was the first private gathering she'd be attending since coming "home". She should be fearful of coming face to face with Damon, or seeing Elena or Katherine. Worry should be plucking at her nerves that she would make a false move, or speak out of time or turn, but she was actually far more excited than anything. She was ready to move forward with her life. Abigail wanted to see what Mystic Falls and the world had to offer her, since Gloria said her future and fate wasn't set, then it was truly her oyster.
It didn't take long to park, and that should have warned her that there weren't enough guests on the guest list to make the event worth attending. Jenna greeted her at the door with a huge welcoming smile and it only grew when she took in the platter of cookies.
"Oh wow," her eyes widened at the sight. "You really outdid yourself, Abigail," Jenna's smile was genuine and it warmed Abi and made her extremely happy that she hadn't given in to any temptation with Ric, whatever madness that had tempted him early on in their friendship. "And you had them individually wrapped and marked."
"Yes, well," Abi was starting to feel a tad uncomfortable with the attention when a broad shouldered, grinning young man came up beside Jenna.
"You gonna actually let her in?" He teased. "Hi, I'm Mason Lockwood. I don't think I've had the pleasure." He handed the platter to Jenna, who rolled her eyes and shook her head indulgently, but wandered away with the cookies. Once her hands were free, he offered his for her to shake.
Abigail took it, but there was something about him that was slightly off, even as she smiled up at him and kept her hand in his. "Abigail Morgan."