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CHAPTER 9:

DREAM A LITTLE DEATH OF ME

Séance (noun): a meeting at which people attempt to make contact with the dead, especially through the agency of a medium

"Why do the living assume the dead know better than we do? Like they gained some knowledge by dying, but why couldn't they just be the same confused people they were before they died?"

"There is something beyond the grave; death does not end all, and the pale ghost escapes the vanquished pyre."

"In my dreams I meet the ghosts of all the people who've come and gone."

Another month of bereavement and sleepless nights elapsed. The nightmares ate at her, like a leech sucking the life out of her very core, reducing her into a husk at a leisurely pace. Every odd day, horrifying images repeatedly plagued her unconsciousness, and then, as one week transformed into a fortnight, the nightmares attacked with vengeance, tormenting her on even days as well, allowing Snow not a single night of reprieve. If possible, the night terrors had a worse effect than the nightmares themselves; night after night, she'd jolt out of bed, her hand raw and bloody, tattooed with bite marks, as she had trained herself after the first night to muffle her screams, lest she woke the step-monster and her evil spawns…again.

Jolting out of bed, a hyperventilating Snow would be forced to suffer through anxiety attacks by her lonesome. Throughout the day, she was bedeviled by hallucinations of her friends suffering, an effect of her paranoia and substantial fear, or perhaps the results of her sleep-deprived mind, but behind the myriad of shadows she crossed, and every nook and cranny within her line of vision, Snow relived her nightmares, the illusions taunting her – Caroline, mutilated beyond recognition in the Salvatore's cellar; Bonnie, beaten within an inch of her life as a result of her refusal to cooperate and cast spells for the benefit of powerful, egotistical beings; Elena, caged in a circle of fire, every last drop drained from her body to the point of death; Stefan, his heart forcibly torn out of his chest, the organ crashing onto the ground in tandem with his dead body; Jeremy, every bone in his body broken, his end agonizingly slow and painful; Matt, neck viciously snapped and tossed aside like he was garbage; Tyler, a bullet imbedded in his forehead, eyes blank and unseeing; Uncle Richard and Carol Lockwood, their prone forms lying on bed, decapitated in their sleep; Jenna, stabbed to death; Aunt Liz, strangled to death; on and on it went, each of her loved ones starring in a plethora of gruesome murders.

At first, Snow believed the production of such vivid nightmares were the outcome of her fear of Damon as they always started the same, with the deaths of Vicki and Lexi. Until one day, she awoke from dreaming about him dying, his death slow, torturous and utterly ghastly that had her crying his name out in the dead of the night in sorrow.

In a state of mourning, Snow initially refused the many invites she received from Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie, begging her to spend the weekend for a sleepover. Jenna called, Aunt Liz called, Grams called, but no amount of convincing broke through Snow's rare bout of intransigence as by that time, her sleep cycle was infected with nightmares and night terrors, and she didn't want to disrupt their nights and become a bother. Nevertheless, during the day, nothing changed; she attended school, constantly evaded Joshua's unremitting attempts to, as the crude saying goes, 'get in her pants', worked shifts at the Grill, and even asked Roy for extra hours, socialized with her friends, and spent Saturday afternoons with Carol at Lockwood Manor for tea, followed by lunch with Uncle Richard.

To Snow's surprise, Stefan's abrupt absence was felt deeply by her. The day after Lexi's murder, he up and vanished without a word to anyone. Elena called, hysterical, explaining Stefan's – natural – reaction in the aftermath of Damon's ugly deed and of how she made an endeavor to talk him out of murdering his brother – which Snow wholeheartedly agreed with as, despite Damon's actions and Stefan's rage, one day in the future, he'd come to regret it. The broody vampire's phone went straight to voicemail, he didn't show up for school, and when Elena stopped by the Boarding House, she found it bereft of Salvatore vampires. Thus, Snow and Elena were left wondering if Stefan killed Damon and subsequently ditched town. However, what surprised Snow the most, was how unsafe she felt without Stefan around; night after night, upon jolting awake from horrifying, all-consuming nightmares, Snow would clutch her cellphone in her hands, desperate to hear Stefan's soothing voice, ensuring he wouldn't allow anything to harm her loved ones. She couldn't even have that, as Stefan had disappeared without a trace.

Then, one night, just a few days before Thanksgiving, the nightmares reached a different culmination, one that incited a new sensation to resonate within her. Snow found herself constantly paralyzed by fear. Upon the cessation of a loved one's death, Snow would find herself confined in a burning building, the flames licking her skin, melting her to the bone, somebody would scream her name and she would promptly awaken in her room, her muffled screams reverberating in her ears and a thick, metallic taste in her mouth.

Suffice to say, Snow Silverstone never harbored a fear of being burned alive…until now.

Despite the onslaught of horrendous images Snow was forced to bear witness to, and the effects her constant fear and paranoia and complete lack of sleep had on her appearance and demeanor – all of which evoked the worriment of her loved ones – Snow experienced a memorable Thanksgiving Day.

Much to Lucille's profound displeasure, Carol personally made another visit to Silverstone Manor, however this time, her husband, the Mayor, elected to join her in order to collect Snow – who stood in the kitchen, arms-deep in cooking preparations – to spend the weekend of Thanksgiving at theirs. An annual Thanksgiving routine at the Silverstone's, Lucille would instruct Snow to prepare the turkey and all the works for herself, her daughters, their distant relations and a few rich guests from out of town. Unlike her friends, Snow had become immune to the unfairness of the ordeal, for every year, despite slaving over a lavish banquet she was prohibited from touching or tasting herself, she would alternate spending the holidays with the Gilbert's, the Bennett's, the Forbes', and the Lockwood's.

If Lucille planned on declining the invitation on Snow's behalf, postponing her departure until Thanksgiving Day arrived in order to give her more time to complete the feast preparations and more importantly, make her scarce at the guests' arrival – as was the annual 'tradition' – Richard's appearance alongside his wife's had her swallowing her tongue. Refusing Carol was one thing, the Mayor of Mystic Falls another. Thus, a vein protruding on her forehead and a smile so tight, her lips risked disappearing, Lucille, in a cloying tone, called Snow from the kitchen and permitted her to spent the weekend at the Lockwood's, forcing her to make a last minute order for a Thanksgiving spread, much to her mortification.

Emitting a sigh, Snow rubbed her woebegone face against her right shoulder and proceeded to meticulously scrub the pan until the elimination of the residue odor of eggs. Lucille, still furious over the Thanksgiving incident, and the twins, green with intense envy over Snow's close ties with the Lockwood family, had been adamant on making the rest of her life a living hell. Two days ago, Haisley issued an over-exaggerated complaint, claiming her fork reeked of rotten eggs which had Paisley screeching about her lost appetite; Lucille gladly backhanded the raven-haired girl and warned her to pay proper attention to her duties – "or else!"

The trio made Snow feel like dirt, and a trait she hated about herself, was of how much disappointing others affected her. Snow getting yelled at felt like a horrible punishment, and it had her feeling useless. Bottom line? Snow hated herself… She hated her weak personality and her complete subservience. Her friends constantly got scolded by their teachers, parents, and guardians and they'd simply shrug it off and carry on with their lives. But Snow? She'd become miserable and her already miniscule sense of self-esteem would get knocked down a few more pegs. But when Lexi informed her about Selene Silverstone, claiming she inherited those traits from her mother, Snow felt her heart soar and swell with pride and acceptance and a sense of belonging. She wasn't the odd individual, the too-kind-for-her-own-good girl; she no longer felt like a failure, or that there was a defect in her personality. No… Snow was like her mother, and that, that was the highest compliment in her eyes. Everything Snow hated about herself, she was learning to love…

Another sigh escaped her. The past month had not been kind to her, the nightmares debilitating her greatly. Unique violet eyes no longer possessed a coruscating sparkle, the shape of her eyes swollen due to the month of nonstop crying and rubbing at them, her cheeks had a smattering of red spots, and her hands were riddled with an ugly cluster of colorful bruises and bite marks, all of which told a dreary tale of her coping mechanism. Worsening Snow's despondency, the step-monster and her evil stepsisters didn't even bat an eyelash regarding the downhearted air she exuded, or displayed a mite of concern over her suffering from anxiety and insomnia.

"Darn!" hissing in pain, Snow wrenched her hands from the sink. Drops of crimson trickled down her palm and into the sink, the water turning a murky pink. So immersed was she in her morose reverie, the crystal glass accidentally slipped from her grasp and shattered, causing a shard to get lodged deeply in her palm.

"Snow Silverstone!" Lucille screeched at the top of her lungs, striding into the kitchen. She glared coldly at her impaled hand. "You are paying for breaking that glass, you waste of space! I don't care what issues you have, deal with them outside this house. Now go tend to your hand before you dirty my kitchen!" and with another dagger-like glare, the step-monster left, the front door slamming behind her.

Eyes squinted and teeth gritted, Snow, her left hand shaking terribly in an amalgamation of fear and pain, yanked the shard out. A wail emanated from her and she dry-heaved into the sink, clutching her bloody palm to her chest. Tears silently cascaded down her face as she cleaned the cut with antiseptic from the first aid kit. She then swiftly bandaged her hand, changed her shirt into a plain black turtleneck sweater, grabbed her book-bag and cellphone, and left the house, locking the door behind her and disregarding the crimson that was slowly starting to stain the pure-white bandage.

For the third time that morning, Snow let out a sigh, mentally preparing herself for the fifteen minute trek to school. Piling onto the start of what seemed like a horrible day, Bonnie called, apologizing profusely, as she had a witchy issue to deal with and therefore, would be running late for school and cannot pick her up. It was too last minute, Snow decided to not bother Elena and Caroline for a ride. Inhaling deeply, Snow took a step forward, ready for the long, freezing walk.

A car honked, the noise blaring right into her ear. She automatically stepped aside, believing she was blocking the car's path. However, when another honk met her ears, she turned, curious and confused. Relief, fear and shock fought for dominance at the sight of Damon Salvatore, lazily smirking at her from the driver's seat. "You need a ride?"

"You're alive!" she blurted out, clapping her mouth immediately, her face flushed. Intense blue eyes widened for a fraction, raven brows knitting together before amusement filled his features, "Last I checked." Studying her expression, inwardly frowning at the subtle changes in her exterior, he adopted a tone that matched his jocular mood and leaned into the passenger seat, "You thought Stefan killed me after the stunt I pulled with Lexi. Pfft, Saint Stefan is incapable of killing me, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

Eyes downcast, Snow mutely nodded, inwardly glad that, not only was Damon alive and in tip-top condition, but since he was back, Stefan most probably returned to town as well. His frown deepening, Damon opened the passenger door from within the car, "Come on, get in."

"N-no, thank you, Damon," she whispered, pools of violets eyes never detaching from her feet.

During the month away from Mystic Falls, leaving town right after Stefan, and secretly keeping an eye on him from afar, Damon did some soul-searching and had come to the realization that Snow Silverstone was a mystery he needed to decipher. And so, when his baby bro returned, so did he. "Look, just let me drop you off, please. I promise I won't bite," he chuckled at his joke. Not wanting to disappoint or infuriate him, she nodded, shoulders slumping in resignation. Slipping into the proffered seat and closing the door behind her, she winced, having accidentally aggravated her injured hand.

Stepping on the engine, he threw her a side-glance, "What happened to your hand?" If it weren't for his augmented eyesight, he wouldn't have noticed her hand and the crimson-stained bandage. Normally, he would have smelt her wound a mile away, but as previously deduced, the Silverstone girl's blood lacked a scent. There was no mouthwatering aroma, no ache in his gums, no urge to sink his fangs into her swanlike neck, absolutely nothing!

Violet orbs averted. "Ah, um, I just, I was clumsy. I broke a glass when I was washing the dishes. It's alright," Snow muttered shyly, her cheeks turning rosy and once again, Damon scowled at the mysterious girl when no distinctive scent permeated the interior of his car.

"You should get it checked. It looks pretty bad," Damon attempted for nonchalance. For the first time since stepping into his car, Snow held his gaze, and Damon repressed a flinch, displeased by the haunted quality in her eyes. He subtly scrutinized her features and easily took note of the palpable indications she had been crying… a lot. Uncomfortable, his eyes returned to the road, perfectly aware he was responsible for her current disposition; and for a brief moment, he wished he chose another scapegoat, instead of Lexi.

"Can you not smell my blood either?" her eyes never left his form, her voice laced with curiosity. The non sequitur surprised the volatile vampire, prompting him to ignore the road in favor of meeting her intrigued gaze. Noticing his visible confusion, and misconstruing her inquiry as the reason and not because she was talking to him normally instead of yelling or ranting at him for his killing-sprees, Snow elucidated, "Stefan told me I have no smell." A mirthless laugh escaped her, returning her gaze to the road, "I'm more of a freak than I previously thought."

A sudden surge of protectiveness took ahold of him. "You're not a freak!" he snarled, feeling bad when his harsh tone elicited a flinch. What was it about Snow Silverstone that made him soft? Why did he feel an irrational need to protect her, a stranger? He despised her, yet at the same time, found it impossible to hate her – a confounding juxtaposition. Not wanting to terrify her, he changed his tone into one of forced calm, "Yeah, I can't smell your blood either. Not feeling an urge to make a snack out of you."

"Oh," Snow pouted, eyes trained on the window in deep contemplation as their surroundings blurred by. "I was hoping it was just Stefan."

Amused by her disappointment, Damon's patent smirk made an abrupt appearance, "It's actually a good thing if you think about it." Snow fixated him with a challenging look, doleful eyes no more, unknowingly coming out of her shell in the vampire's presence. "Now you won't have to worry about random vampires attacking you."

"Stefan did mention something similar," Snow muttered under her breath, Mystic Falls High entering her line of vision. Damon parked the car and turned to face the raven-haired girl, "We're here. Don't forget to get your hand checked."

Climbing out of the car, she turned and gave him a tentative smile, "Thank you."

Damon shrugged uncomfortably; she shouldn't be thanking him. He was a monster who destroyed everything he touched. "For what?"

"For caring," Snow smiled sadly, not giving him a chance to reply as she hurriedly disappeared inside, leaving the vampire to ponder the enigmatic girl and her equally perplexing personality.

Lighting up at the sight of Elena and Caroline, Snow skipped their way, just in time to hear Elena say, "Why are you so pissed at her anyway?"

"She's a thief, that's why. I gave her my necklace and she refuses to give it back. It's a matter of principle," was Caroline's apoplectic response, cornflower-blue eyes narrowed. Falling in line next to the blonde, Snow linked arms with her, "This has been going on for too long, Care. Material goods do not and should not trump a lifelong friendship. Okay?"

Totally disregarding her words of wisdom and the fact that she was a hundred percent absolutely correct, Caroline, a pout on her lips, swiveled around to defend herself, only to perform a double-take, gasping at her appearance, "Why do you look like you were crying and what happened to your hand?"

Snow shrugged, "I cut myself with glass when I was doing the dishes. Plus, the step-monster's been a nightmare since Thanksgiving." Caroline scowled at the mere mention of Lucille, mumbling colorful insults under her breath. Elena however, identified the raven-haired girl's diversion tactic and shot her an empathetic smile, knowing how hard Vicki and Lexi's death affected Snow. "Where's Stefan, Elena?" she changed the subject. Since Damon was back, it was a no-brainer Stefan was, too

The brunette emitted a forlorn sigh, "If it weren't for the short text this morning, I wouldn't have known he was back in town. He's avoiding me."

"Why?" Caroline frowned in confusion.

The other two traded subtle looks, uneasy at the constant need to lie to their friends. They couldn't disclose the fact that Damon compelled her to throw a party so that he could kill Stefan's best friend in order to keep their status as vampires a secret from the Founder's Council. Or that Stefan, in a fit of blind rage, declared he was going to kill Damon and skipped town shortly after.

Saved by the bell!

The trio stepped into the history classroom, curious regarding their new teacher's identity. An announcement was made in the newspapers, broadcasting the position had finally been filled by an out-of-towner. Since William Tanner's death at the beginning of the school year, history class had been transformed into a self-study session.

Snow took her place between Elena and Caroline, and behind Bonnie, as a handsome man in his early thirties walked in and took his place in front of the board, a friendly smile on his face. His eyes scoured the expectant students.

"Good morning everyone. Alrighty…" he looked around for a moment before grabbing a chalk and writing his name on the chalkboard. Underlining his name twice for emphasis, he turned around to face the class at large, "Alaric Saltzman. It's a mouthful, I know. Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. Saltzman is of German origins. My family emigrated here in 1755 to Texas. I, however was born and raised in Boston. Now the name Alaric belongs to a very dead great-grandfather I will never be able to thank enough." He chuckled, the sound good-natured, eliciting laughter from the class. "You'll probably want to pronounce 'Alaric' but it's 'Alaric', okay? So, you can call me Ric. I'm your new history teacher."

It may be premature, but Snow already liked him. The initial impression he radiated was, that he was a friendly, kind and down to earth individual; throughout the lecture, he made history exciting, adding life to the previously dull lesson, and encouraged class participation.

"Bon, are you okay? You look off today," Snow's eyes flashed with worry, concerned about her jittery behavior as the bell rang and they left class.

Bonnie sighed and started to explain the weird, vivid dreams that have been plaguing her, "I've been having these dreams about my ancestor Emily, and she's haunting me. I woke up from my dream and found her sitting next to me in class which turned out to also be dream. And then, I ended up at the remains of the old Fell's church before I woke up back in the woods."

"And you always see your ancestor Emily?" Elena inquired.

The pair of hazel-green flickered between Snow and Elena, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Elena scoffed weakly. "Two weeks ago I'd say no, but now…" trailing off, she shook her head.

"Now we'd say why not ghosts," Snow faintly added; inwardly, she prayed they did exist, because then, maybe Snow would be able to see her parents, and Vicki. Interact with them and no longer feel alone.

An undisputable proof that her loved ones are watching over her.

"I think I'm being haunted," Bonnie blurted out, her expression spooked. Twin expressions of bemusement highlighted Snow and Elena's features. Head moving left and right, Elena asked, "But I don't get it. Why Emily?"

The newly-discovered witch mused over Sheila Bennett's words. "Grams said she was a powerful witch back in the Civil War days, and that this medallion was hers. A witch's talisman," she lifted the crystal necklace from where it comfortably sat around her neck.

Head cocked and gaze unblinking, Snow shrewdly inquired, "Did this ghost whisperer thing start when you got the necklace?"

Bonnie nodded apprehensively, "I think she's using it to communicate with me."

"And what does your Grams say about it?" Elena retorted, brown orbs wide and expectant. Grimacing, Bonne shot each girl a sheepish look before averting their intent stares, "I can't call her. She's gonna tell me to embrace it. I don't want to embrace it, I want it to stop." She sounded so petulant and stubborn, Snow expected her to stomp her foot in a childish fit.

Sympathetic, Snow said her piece, "Well if my ancestors were trying to communicate with me, I'd prefer they come right out in the open and say whatever's on their mind instead of haunting me and my dreams."

This was shaping out to be one horrible day, where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

Not only was her hand in agony, but Snow had to change the bandages twice before school let them out. She was almost positive her wound required stitches. The only good news was she had health insurance, something Uncle Richard was persistent about, insisting that she carry her insurance card with her at all times, and to her embarrassment, not only did he apply for her, but he also paid for it – a gift from uncle to niece and to establish peace of mind, in his words. Bad news, she had the afternoon shift at the Grill, no ride, and her cellphone died.

Murphy's Law at its finest!

Elena, Bonnie and Caroline left early as they planned on meeting at Elena's in a few hours for girls' night. The only choice available to Snow was to walk. Once she reached the Grill, she'd personally speak with Roy, apologize for her tardiness, show him her hand, and then quickly make her way to the hospital to stitch up her hands. Hopefully, all the walking and the anesthetic administered wouldn't decrease her possibility of attending girls' night. 'At least I wore my comfortable shoes,' she grouchily thought to herself.

"You need a ride?" a familiar voice called out from behind. Pirouetting around, Snow blatantly gaped at the vampire in shock. "N-No it's okay. I've a lot of things to do, I–"

Leaning against his car, his posture lackadaisical, Damon cut in, "Tell me. What's on today's agenda? Because I've time to kill before my night out with baby bro."

Snow's face was flushed a magenta color and her eyes remained downcast. Shyly, she whispered – and if Damon weren't a vampire with impeccable hearing, he wouldn't have heard a thing. "Um, well, uh I-I, um...okay." Damon stared at the stuttering beauty in amusement, endeared by her habit of eating her words and inability to form a coherent sentence. According to Caroline – he always made it a point to tune into her nonstop blathering whenever she brought up Snow and Elena – the girl was a wordsmith, but until now, he hasn't seen it. He reached over and griped her chin softly, tilting her head until their eyes collided, prompting her blush to deepen.

"My phone died," she uttered lamely, her doleful violet eyes piercing his intense electric-blues. "And I had to redress my hand twice. I'm gonna have to go to the hospital for stitches but I have, um, my afternoon shift at the Grill… and I can't call Roy. He's by manager. Because my phone died and I'm meeting the girls at Elena's later, so er-, yeah. I'm not having my best day…" she rambled, her porcelain complexion burning with shame.

For his part, Damon didn't know why the girl felt embarrassed. Keeping quiet, he merely released her face and opened the passenger seat, "Hop in. I don't mind being your chauffeur for the day." He then shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe you were willing to walk all that. For a teenager, you are surprisingly active."

Laughing softly in response, she deposited herself in the car and clutched her wound to her chest. Wordlessly, Damon dumped his proffered cellphone into her lap and drove directly to Mystic Falls Hospital. Snow needn't have worried, Roy, him having a soft spot for her, insisted she not only take the afternoon off, but tomorrow as well, until she was capable of balancing a tray in her hand without upsetting her wound, thus putting her on paid leave. However, upon their arrival, Snow found herself devoid of words when Damon not only escorted her inside, but actually stood by her side as the doctor sutured her hand.

Just as Snow started to believe her day was looking up – Damon Salvatore a surprising and unexpected, but wholly welcome godsend – she was instantaneously proven wrong. "Snow? What are you doing here?" the menacing voice of the step-monster's hissed acerbically, muddy-green orbs penetrating her form. Plastering a fake smile that looked utterly painful at the doctor, who finished bandaging her hand, and Damon, who had an eyebrow cocked, she addressed them, "May I have a word with my stepdaughter?"

The doctor smiled and softly patted Snow on the knee, "I just finished up anyways. Snow, I'll have one of the nurses discharge you once you are done."

"I'll be out, Snow," Damon informed her, ignoring Lucille's star-struck gaze as she blatantly ogled him. He didn't go too far, he positioned himself just outside the door, ensuring he heard the following conversation. The exchange had his blood boiling.

"Well? I'm waiting! You're supposed to be at work, why aren't you?" Lucille snapped, her voice resembling ice.

Snow flinched, "Mr. Dawson gave me the day off so I could get sutures for my hand."

"I don't care about your hand, you stupid girl!" A short silence ensued before Lucille broke into speech, "Hand over $20, Snow. You broke the glass this morning, you pay for it. Don't look at me like that, girl, you thought I was bluffing?" she scoffed. Damon heard the distinctive rustling sound and knew Snow had obeyed. "Don't bother coming to the Manor tonight. You can sleep on the lawn. You've delayed me from my Botox appointment. I hope you're happy."

Stepping aside, Damon watched her leave, glaring at the unpleasant woman's retreating back with utmost disgust. Hearing sniffling from inside, his heart thudded painfully against his ribcage and he retook his previous position by her side. Dabbing her tears with a tissue, she forced a smile, "I think something came in my eye."

Damon was spared from answering when a nurse handed over the discharge forms. Jumping onto her feet, she awkwardly signed it with her non-dominant hand and left with the eerily quiet vampire. She inwardly cringed, belatedly realizing that, as a vampire, Damon must have heard her confrontation with Lucille… shame blanketed her.

The drive was filled with a nerve-wracking silence until Damon finally broke it just as he parked in front of Elena's house. "This morning, you thanked me for caring. I get it now. …Your stepmother's a bitch," he stated, matter of factly.

The raven-haired girl nodded before erupting into giggles, "I call her step-monster behind her back." She donned a childish smile and Damon couldn't help but return it in kind, glad that a twinkle was returning to her vibrant eyes. "Thanks Damon," Snow beamed, leaving the vampire and approaching the house.

Expecting Snow, Elena left the front door open, and no sooner did she step inside, did a megawatt smile threaten to break her face in half at the sight of Caroline and Bonnie locked in a tight embrace. "You two finally made up," Snow squealed, tackling Elena in greeting.

"We have," Caroline giggled. "Get ready, Snow, we just agreed on a séance."

Blinking at them, Snow rubbed her ears, hoping she had simply misheard the bubbly blonde. Realizing Caroline was completely serious, her expression turned terrified, "Wh-Why… Why would you want to do that?"

Patting Snow's back in commiseration, Elena explained, "Long story short, Bonnie tossed necklace into a field and it reappeared in her purse. We think its Emily. So Caroline is forcing us to do a séance."

Feeling faint, Snow stared at Caroline in disbelief. The blonde giggled at her reaction and clapped her hands in ebullience, "Come on. Let's summon some spirits. This Emily chick has some serious explaining to do."

In the end, Caroline practically had to drag Snow up the stairs and into Elena's bedroom. Lighting a couple of candles, Elena grudgingly switched off the lights and sat between Snow and Bonnie in a circle. With trepidation, she joined hands with Elena and Caroline, and prayed for nothing to happen – they already had enough problems with the supernatural without calling trouble to them. Unfortunately, this was the price they were paying for promoting Caroline's ignorance; to Bonnie, Elena and herself, they knew, without a doubt the supernatural existed. Caroline, however, didn't.

"Be quiet and concentrate. Close your eyes. Now take a deep breath," Caroline spoke in a soothing and even voice, sounding uncannily like those women who practice nirvana. The other three mimicked her. "Bonnie. Call to her," the blonde suddenly broke the silence.

Bonnie huffed and, in an annoyed voice, barked, "Emily, you there?" Despite the situation, Snow bit her lower lip, keeping back a bubble of laughter – Bonnie sounded wholly uninterested, almost like she was yelling at somebody at the other end of her phone.

Apparently sharing her thoughts, Caroline scoffed and glared at Bonnie. "Really? 'Emily, you there?'" she mocked. "That's all you got? Come on."

Eyes rolling half-heartedly, Bonnie rolled her shoulders, "Fine, geez." Inhaling deeply and exhaling, the Bennett witch adopted a mystical tone, "I call on you. I know you have a message. I'm here to listen."

The words were barely spoken when the candles flared up, the drop of flame atop each wick blazing with a sudden intensity. Four pairs of eyes widened significantly at the unexpected incident, the anomaly spooking them. Elena swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice reflecting her shock, "Did that just…"

Spoken in one breath, Caroline's reply was instant, "Yeah, it just happened."

Emitting a whimper, Snow's grip on Caroline and Bonnie's hands tightened. Comforting the raven-haired girl, Bonnie shook her head, denial bright in her eyes, "It's just the air conditioning."

While the anomaly incited Snow and Elena's discomfort and simultaneous consternation, and terrified Bonnie to the point of keeping herself buried in denial, it encouraged Caroline, her combined stubbornness and determination, as well as her aversion to submitting defeat pushing her forward. Overlooking Bonnie's comment, the blonde probed, "Ask her to show you a sign. Ask her." When Bonnie maintained her silence, Caroline huffed and fixated the ceiling with her pair of stubborn cornflower-blues, impatience lacing her voice, "Emily, if you're among us, show us another sign."

Silence… A spell of utter silence bathed the room, and as the quietude escalated, nothing considered abnormal occurred. Snow breathed out a sigh of relief and Bonnie happily said, "See? It's not working—"

The windows slamming open and crashing into the wall had each of the girls jumping in fright, and Snow burst into a squeak-like scream. It took much effort for them to get onto their feet, and Bonnie was the first to succeed, her trembling hands ripping the necklace from her neck, "I can't, I'm done." And with that proclamation, the piece of mystical jewelry was tossed into the circle. As though triggered by her act, the flames extinguished in unison, blanketing the room in pitch darkness. Shaky, and frantic, and rushed, Bonnie yelled, "Get the light. Please, get the light!"

Finally succeeding in placing her feet on the ground, Elena scrambled to switch on the lights. Brightness illuminating the room, hazel-green orbs fixated on the ground, disbelief and fear fighting for dominance, "You guys, the necklace. It's gone."

"Gone? How can it be gone!"her back against a wall for support, Snow, shaking like a leaf, swept the room in search for an amber reflection. "It has to be here, somewhere!"

Driven to impetuousness by pure fear, Elena whipped her head around to face Caroline, "Okay, fun's over, Caroline. You made a point and I get it. Now give it back."

"What?" Caroline screeched, drilling an angry hole into Elena. Snow sensed a mixture of sincerity and indignation seeping out of the blonde and directed at the brunette in full blast. "Well I didn't take it."

As Snow and Caroline rummaged through the nook and crannies of Elena's bedroom, the latter reaching to the most sensible conclusion that perhaps, one of them accidentally kicked it in their scramble to turn on the lights, Elena checked the hallway. It was Bonnie who found the innocuous-looking necklace responsible for most of the trouble in the past two months, on the bathroom floor. Reaching out for it, Bonnie gave the others a head's up, "Guys–" The door cut her off with a loud bang, trapping Bonnie and sending the girls into a panicky state. "You guys open the door! Help me!" she screamed repeatedly in unadulterated terror.

"Bonnie! Bonnie! What's going on, Bonnie?"

Snow, Elena and Caroline proceeded to hysterically bang their fists against the bathroom door, shouting for Bonnie. The door wouldn't open and just when Bonnie's screams seemed endless, a fraught silence suddenly ensued. Slowly – and quiet creepily in Snow's opinion as she couldn't help but recall a similar scene in one of the many thriller movies she witnessed – the door swung open, by itself. Huddled together and hands intertwined in death grips, they peeked inside, their eyes landing on Bonnie who stood hunched over, her thick curtain of hair covering her face which was masked by her hands.

Shakily, Snow called out, "Bonnie? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," was Bonnie's immediate retort, the weird quality in her voice eliciting a crease between Snow's eyebrows. Seeking Elena's attention, the brunette subtly inclined her head, wordlessly agreeing with Snow's observation: Bonnie sounded off and not herself.

Caroline scoffed and stomped her foot, "Unbelievable! You were totally faking it!"

"Caroline, come on," Elena attempted to pacify her, but didn't know how. She, herself, was at a loss for words. However, the blonde couldn't be placated. She had truly feared for her friend, and that, coupled with the séance's creepy cessation had her exceeding her tolerance for the night, "No! You scared the hell out of me."

Breaking into the dissent, Bonnie, her voice unnaturally steady with a…feathery texture, claimed, "I must go." And not waiting for a reaction, the newly-discovered witch left the room, her movements identical to one in a daze. Confusion skyrocketing, Snow and Elena dragged an irritated Caroline alongside them, halting by the stairs.

"Bonnie, you can't just leave," Snow cried out. Her words had no effect; instead, Bonnie's footsteps quickened and Caroline angrily announced her departure, "I've had enough freaky fake witch stuff for one night."

Pausing in her rushed descent down the stairs, Bonnie turned to face them from over her shoulder and eloquently said, "Thank you for having me. I'll take it from here."

"Where are you going?" Elena cried out. Detachment attacked Snow's senses and the look in Bonnie's eyes when their gaze briefly collided had her feeling all kinds of wrong… Staring at Elena and Caroline, the witch appeared indifferent, polite, detached; however, when hazel-greens landed on Snow, they lit up with a hunger. Not bothering to turn, Bonnie stated in an eerie voice, "Back to where it all began."

Realization dawned like a freight train. "Oh my God, Emily!" Elena and Snow gasped aloud. Triggered by the sound of her name, Emily, possessing Bonnie's body, snapped around, her dreamy stare morphed into a startling glare head. Disregarding Elena's presence, she maintained eye contact with a terrified Snow, "I won't let him have it. It must be destroyed."

Head shaking rapidly, Snow whimpered, "Yo-You can't!" The 'him' Emily referred to was clearly Damon Salvatore, and the destruction of the necklace would evoke his wrath on Mystic Falls. Risking the volatile vampire's ire and wrath was unacceptable. The town couldn't handle any more 'animal attacks'. Unfortunately, the door slammed shut behind Emily, and as the trio ran after her, they discovered that Emily had spelled the front door shut as it wouldn't budge, despite their collective strength.

"What's happening?" Caroline screeched, completely freaked out. Thankfully, Jeremy, who had arrived in impeccable timing, opened the door from the outside, which prompted three piercing screams of fright. Caroline, not looking back, made a mad dash to her car, "I'm outta here."

Snow honestly couldn't blame her.

Parting from a bemused Jeremy, Elena and Snow raced to the former's car. As Elena concentrated on the road, Snow called Stefan. "St-Stefan, it's Snow. Listen. B-B-Bonnie's being possessed by her ancestor E-Emily. She mentioned going to where it all began? We think she's talking ab-about Fell's church, by the old cemetery," she somehow managed to utter in one breath, despite her stutters.

Her statement was met with heavy concern, "What did she say?"

Her free hand sifted through her long locks, twirling them around her hand in a panic, "She said 'I won't let him have it. It must be destroyed.' And then she just, she just l-left."

"Just stay there, I'll find her," Stefan quickly imparted before he closed the line.

For the rest of the ride, the two girls remained silent, both of them lost in thoughts, worried over what lay ahead. Whatever Emily planned on doing didn't bode well for Bonnie and the inhabitants of Mystic Falls if it risked inciting his wrath. While the long deceased witch may have good intentions, she was purposely putting Bonnie's life at risk…

Arriving at the location, they found that, not only had Stefan beaten them there, but Damon, too. A pentagram had been carved into the ground, its contours ablaze with wild fire, preventing Damon from passing through, and in the middle of the five-pointed star, stood Emily, determination in her eyes and the necklace in her grip. Despite the impassable fire, Damon, a bloody spot smearing the torso of his shirt, pleaded with her, the desperation and devastation in his voice hitting Snow with profound sadness.

Tearing her gaze from Damon, Snow joined Elena, approaching Stefan while calling out for Bonnie, hoping she'd combat the hold her dead ancestor had on her and regain control and movement of her limbs.

"No!" Damon yelled as Emily tossed the necklace high into the air. The necklace, in its airborne state, suddenly exploded over Emily and the pentagram, its residue raining numerous specks of glittering fireworks, signaling the completion of the spell and the destruction of the amber-crystal. Subsequently, Emily's head sagged lower and when she looked up, the pair of almond-shaped orbs blinked and hazel-greens inspected its surrounding in horror, fear and most of all, confusion, indicating Emily's departure. About to move toward her friend, she abruptly stopped short when a murderous sensation resonated through her, overcoming the bleak resignation she faintly recalled sensing not a moment ago.

Looking around, violet orbs screeched to halt on Damon, his handsome features contorted with apoplectic rage. "Stefan–" but her warning came late. Stefan answered her incomplete exclamation with a questioning look after which a shrill scream rent the air. Three dissimilar pairs of eyes – violet, forest-green, and chocolate-brown – flickered around the expansive terrain and landed on Damon and Bonnie; the vampire had the witch entrapped in his brutal grip and had sank his fangs into her neck, his bite merciless as he ravenously drank her blood.

Simultaneously, Snow keeled over. Palm down and fingers splayed, her hand slammed onto the earth to maintain her balance and prevent herself from falling face down, the other hand however, clutched the right side of her neck. Trapped in a spell of excruciating pain, Snow felt miniscule razors biting into her neck, ripping through skin and tearing into her carotid artery, and it took everything in her to breathe calmly through the pain and keep quiet, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Just as the vertigo struck and blackness began to cloud her vision, her torment receded. Blinking through the moisture in her eyes, Snow saw that Stefan had pulled Damon away from Bonnie.

She quickly shot to her feet and looked at her hand in confused disbelief – it was devoid of any blood. Hysterically running a hand over her neck, it smoothly slid past undamaged skin.

…What was happening to her?

Snow stumbled her way to Stefan and Elena, both of whom were kneeling by Bonnie's fallen form, checking for a pulse. She cringed at the aftermath of Damon's violence, a sob escaping her when Bonnie remained unresponsive. Almost as though her head was submerged in water, Snow barely made out Stefan's declaration that Bonnie was still alive before he ripped into his wrist and fed her his blood. Together, Elena and Snow watched in awe as Bonnie's neck knitted together, returning to its pristine state, and if not for the crimson stains, no one would know Bonnie was attacked by Damon.

The three best friends were safely ensconced in Elena's car, and as Snow comforted a freaked out Bonnie in the backseat, she met Elena's meaningful gaze and nodded – it was time they inform Bonnie about everything. Once Bonnie finally calmed down, her sobs subsiding into hiccups, Snow entered a trance, her hand subconsciously pressed against her neck throughout the entirety of the car ride.

One thought continued to plague her – 'what's happening to me!?'

"Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls." – Dean Winchester

"This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession – everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business." – Dean Winchester

"Snow! I think Stefan killed Damon. He's not answering his phone, no one's home, and Damon's car is missing. Does it make me a bad person if I'm more concerned with him blowing town without a word, than the fact he might've killed his brother? Ugh, don't answer that. I'm conflicted. And I am so going to Hell." – Elena Gilbert

"The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day." – Sam Winchester

"Lucille Silverstone does not have a redeeming bone in her body!" – Caroline Forbes

"There shall be no trouble. Sheriff Forbes, her deputies, and Mayor and Mrs. Lockwood have all been taken care of." – Sheila Bennett

"When I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my Mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my Mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave." – Dean Winchester

"Madam Styne, I do hope there won't be an issue here. Snow is a part of my family. She will be spending the entire weekend with us." – Richard Lockwood (to Lucille)

"Your Mom still trying to set you up with Snow?" – Matt Donovan (to Tyler)

"Dean, you know what most Dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud. Most Dads don't toss their kids out of the house." – Sam Winchester

"Dad was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. But even when you two weren't talkin'… he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could. Keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe." – Dean Winchester

"The Bennett Matriarch has done her part. And I've done mine. He's ready." – Sophie Deveraux

"The Darkness remains watchful and Evil is almost at your front door." – The Spirits

"I have these nightmares, and sometimes…they come true. Look, Dean…I dreamt about Jessica's death, for days before it happened. … No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it." – Sam Winchester

"Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get 'em. But I'm with Sam. And we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but… I don't know what to do. So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please, I need your help, Dad." – Dean Winchester

"This is where it started. And this is where it has to end." – Emily Bennett

"I got the town off our back. It was for the greater good, but I'm sorry. And, to prove it, I'm not gonna feed on a human. For at least a week. I'll adopt a Stefan diet! Only nothing with feathers." – Damon Salvatore

"'Cause I realize that killing your closest and oldest friend is beyond evil, and yet somehow, it's worthy of humor." – Stefan Salvatore

"You know that your old teacher had a jackass file? No joke. It's typed on a label. It has all the troublemakers in it. But really it's just an opus—to you. Don't worry about it, I'm not him. Clean slate." – Alaric Saltzman (to Jeremy)

"I didn't kill my brother, as much as he deserved it. He has you to thank for that." – Stefan Salvatore

"I know a lot of things, and I know more about that crystal than you do, and I know that she's using it to creep inside of you. See how scared you are? And, you should be, because I will get that crystal, even if I have to wait for Emily to give it to me herself. So, next time she comes out to play, you tell her that a deal's a deal." – Damon Salvatore

"He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say…I drew back the curtains for him." – Missouri Moseley (about John Winchester)

"Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once – it just feels like something's starting." – Sam Winchester

"Grams isn't the one being haunted by a hundred and fifty year old ghost, is she?" – Bonnie Bennett

"Her name was Emily. She was Katherine's handmaiden, and a witch." – Stefan Salvatore

"What is going on? Why am I not a part of this conversation? You guys do this to me all the time." – Caroline Forbes

"The basics…fell in love, married young, my wife died." – Alaric Saltzman

"It wasn't real, Damon. Our love for Katherine. She compelled us. We didn't have a choice. Took me years to sort that out, to truly understand what she did to us." – Stefan Salvatore

"The Pure…" – Emily Bennett

"You saved everyone in the church?" – Stefan Salvatore (to Emily)

"Dean. Sam. I'm sorry." – Mary Winchester

"What's happening to me?" – Sam Winchester

"Katherine never compelled me. I knew everything. Every step of the way. – Damon Salvatore

Snow Silverstone: "You shouldn't have hurt Bonnie. It wasn't her. She was being possessed by Emily." Damon Salvatore: "Well, Snow, what can I say… I've always been an avid believer of killing the messenger."

"That boy…he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea. John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why don't you go talk to your children?" – Missouri Moseley

"I want to. You have no idea how much I wanna see 'em. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth." – John Winchester

"You saved her life. I'm sorry, Stefan. I thought that I couldn't be with you, but I can. You don't have to push me away. I can do this." – Elena Gilbert

"Just a head's up. He's in position." – Sophie Deveraux

A/N: Done! Can anyone guess what is happening to Snow?

(1) I hope you liked the Snow/Damon bonding! And I'm sure Damon fans out there have been worried this'll be a Damon Bashing fic. Well, you can relax. It's not. While I, personally, am not Damon's greatest fan, and at times, cannot stand him and his hypocrisy (especially once the Originals entered the fray), this story is all about neutrality because of Snow. So enjoy!

(2) On another note, I've mentioned in the previous chapter that SPN Universe will be happening differently. Since Season 1 will be squeezed into a couple of months (S1 of TVD ends in February), the episodes won't be occurring in chronological order. So, to not confuse anyone, I'm listing the episodes that occurred until now (there is a month gap between chapter 8 & 9): The Wendigo, Dead in the Water (the one with the ghost in the lake), Bloody Mary, Hook Man, Bugs, and lastly, Home.

R&R.