Dark Side.
Chapter 6: Blood Brothers. Part II.
Mystic Falls, 1864.
The Salvatore residence was quiet. Mr. Salvatore had left at the break of dawn; he had some business to take care of in town. His absence meant they could all have as much fun as they wished. It meant Cassandra and Katherine did not have to behave properly at all times. The problem was Cassandra had too much on her mind to have fun.
Katherine had called her boring, before promptly taking a hold of Stefan's hand and running out of the front door, laughing all the way. So, Cass had retired to the drawing room. She needed to practice her scales in the piano; it'd been a while since she had last done so. It was a great distraction, for the first ten minutes. Afterwards, her mind refused to be silent. Shaking her head, she picked up the pace, hoping the reason the chore at hand was too easy was because she'd been going too slow. It still did not work.
"Miss?"
Emily interrupted what was starting to feel like a breakdown. She turned on her seat, watched as Emily looked around the room before entering completely, a thick folder in her arms.
"Yes, Emily?" Cass eyed the folder suspiciously.
With her luck, it would be some complex spell Emily needed help with or otherwise their plan would not work. Or perhaps it was a log of every single townsperson who was ingesting vervain on the regular. Or something as equally disconcerting.
"I found the music sheet for the concerto you had misplaced." Emily explained, holding the folder up.
It was only then that she realized the folder was indeed hers. Her initials were stamped softly in the left bottom corner. The red ribbon securing it closed was the same she had used to tie her hair back this morning. The laugh that left her was a soft exhale. Her shoulders relaxed.
She knew she was paranoid. That she was letting the worry she felt control her. But Katherine had already postponed their plan twice. She claimed it was because George Lockwood did not trust her yet. Because Jonathan Gilbert was still not ready with his inventions, that the Council did not believe fully yet. And while Cassandra knew some of that was the complete truth, she also knew the reason Katherine was happy with the delay in their plans came in the form of seventeen-year-old Stefan Salvatore.
"Thank you, Emily," she said, taking a hold of the folder.
She opened it without flourish, removing the soft, thin papers from the leather and placing them in front of her, above the keys. Franz Liszt was a great contemporary composer, at least in her opinion, and it had taken her longer than she'd like to admit having this music sheet in her possession, which was the reason she'd been almost heartbroken when she could not find it. Now, however, her relief at finding it was short lived. She hoped against hope that Katherine would be able to place her growing love for Stefan in second place and still focus on what was important: finally convincing the Council that vampires were real, and that they had to get rid of them.
"Are you all right, Cassandra?" Emily asked.
Cass blinked, only then realizing she'd been doing nothing but stare at the music sheet, fingers hovering over the keys but immobile.
"Yes, Emily." Cass nodded, sitting up right again. "Thank you, though."
Emily smiled, nodding once before turning the way she came and leaving Cass alone. She sighed, looking around the empty room. Every once in a while, she would hear Katherine's laughter echoing around the gardens, followed by Stefan calling out to her. It made her feel incredibly alone. Her eyes caught the pictures above the mantelpiece, one of Stefan when he was younger, looking as adorable as he could possibly look, the other of Mrs. Salvatore and Damon when he was a child. Her lips stretched into a small smile before she turned back to the piano, this time actually beginning to play.
Cassandra could pretend all she wanted that the reason she was upset today came from not knowing whether their plan would be a success or not, but she knew that was a lie. After five-hundred-years together, Katherine and Cass tended to carry out plans to perfection. If their first plan did not work, they had a second one, and a third to replace said second plan, and so on and so forth. This would work, and they would be free of Klaus forever.
No, part of her discomfort came from Damon Salvatore's last letter to her, the one she had yet to reply to. He requested that she did not tell his brother, as he didn't want Stefan to worry, but the war was worse than he'd been letting on. The frontlines were brutal. He was filled with doubts, and he was beginning to think maybe he was fighting on the wrong side. Cass could not help but fear he would die for something he did not believe in.
Sighing, she flicked to the next page, her fingers finding the keys at a faster rate than Liszt would approve of. She did not care. Because the quicker she played, the easier it was for her to not think of the main reason she was upset. The date. Today marked the three-hundred-and-sixty-sixth anniversary of the worst day of her life. And no matter what she did, she could not forget it. Her fingers stumbled, accidentally pressing two keys that should not have been pressed. Shaking her head, she tried again, only to have the same result.
Biting back a frustrated scream, Cass covered her face with her hands, forced to relive the memories flashing through her mind. She refused to cry, but that did not mean she didn't feel the grief that came with those memories. She wished she had stayed abed this morning, but that would show something was wrong. She could not afford to show weakness, not now, not ever.
"Cassie?"
She rose to her feet in a second, turning around to the source of the voice. Not because someone had called her the one name that hurt the most, but because she had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she had missed someone sneaking up on her. That was nothing compared to the surprised she felt when she realized who was standing before her, just a few steps away.
"Damon?" Cassandra frowned. "What are you doing here?"
Because he was here, standing right in front of her, still in his uniform, hat currently being squeezed in his hands. What was strange was that he seemed fine, perfectly healthy. He was not here to recover from a life-threatening wound like some soldiers were advised to do. Damon's lips stretched into a wide smirk as he walked further into the room.
"I was simply having too much fun here to return to the war." He shrugged.
Her frown deepened. His words sounded rehearsed, like he'd practiced them, like he didn't actually mean them. Her mind went back to his letter, how he sometimes thought, often, that he was fighting for the wrong side, that maybe he didn't believe in the confederacy.
"You deserted." It was not a question.
His smile fell.
"Yes, I did." He nodded, eyes momentarily finding the wooden floor.
"That is…" Cass trailed off, at a loss for words.
"Shameful?" Damon provided for her.
"No!" Cass shook her head. "No, Damon. It takes a lot, standing up for what you believe in. I was going to say brave."
Because while most people in town would consider his actions shameful and cowardly, she thought it was courageous. He would endure a lot of judging, so she hoped her words would serve as a slight consolation.
"My father would disagree with you." He mentioned.
"And I've told you, your father is on the wrong side of history." She insisted with a kind smile.
When he smiled next, it seemed more genuine. For some reason, it made her blood sing.
"Thank you, Cassie." His eyes found hers with honesty.
"May I ask," she began, walking around the piano bench and closer to where he stood. "Why you told me about your real feelings for the war?"
It had been confusing to her, having him confide on her and not Stefan. Damon seemed surprised by the question.
"You…" Damon trailed off, taking her in. She held her breath. "You're the closest friend I have." He confessed with some difficulty.
Cassandra wasn't sure what she was expecting to hear, but his words made her stomach heavy with something akin disappointment. Still, she couldn't remember the last time she felt so… appreciated.
"Would it be inappropriate if I hugged you?" Cass asked.
"Probably," he said.
After less than a second, he stretched open his arms. She took the last three steps separating them and reached up on her tiptoes, surrounding his neck in a hug that tightened as his arms went around her waist, lifting her up in the air. She laughed, feeling his own laughter vibrating in his chest.
Damon Salvatore did the impossible that morning. He made her forget what day it was.
Mystic Falls, Present Time.
Damon never thought he would see Henry again. Well, not see, per say, more like talk to. After that fateful day he swore he wouldn't think of ever again, he avoided Henry as much as possible. It was hard, considering how he seemed to be friends with both Katherine and Cassie. Still, he succeeded, and the memories, the truth, remained hidden. Now, however, it's threatening to resurface, and Damon is incredibly bitter over the fact that the only thing keeping the memories at bay is the redhead by his side. The redhead he's trying as hard as he can to remain mad at. No matter the fact that he technically already forgave her.
Henry insisted they sat down and talked, like they were old friends reuniting after a long trip, and not two vampires and a vampire hunter accidentally visiting him, the very outdated vampire. Rick is tense as he drinks from the beer Henry oh-so-kindly provided, and Cassie looks like she's having the best time of her life. Damon, however, is incredibly annoyed for some reason, especially now, when Henry is handing Cassandra a glass filled with blood, looking at her like she's responsible for the stars existing in the sky.
"Thank you, Henry." She smiles at him, definitely brushing her fingers against his when she takes the glass on purpose.
"I hope you don't mind it being cold." Henry excuses. "I—I don't have anything to warm it with."
Damon rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to groan out loud. In front of him, Alaric takes a sip of his drink so neither Cassandra nor Henry will notice him laughing. She does, though. Instead of sending him a glare, Cassie's lips stretched up into another smile that ends in a soft laugh. Henry blinks, almost stunned. Damon can't blame him.
"No, Henry, I don't mind cold blood." She takes a sip from the glass just to prove a point. "Mmm, just like a milkshake."
She's teasing him, Damon realizes. Cassie doesn't care about Henry any more than Damon does. But, right now, she has Henry completely wrapped around her little finger, and she's smart enough to use that to their advantage.
"What?" Henry asks, confused.
"Nothing." Cassie shakes her head, winking at him.
Henry looks even more confused. This time, Alaric doesn't contain his laugh as well as he should. Cassandra laughs as well, a lovely laugh that isn't cruel or mocking, but happy. She looks up at Henry, eyes twinkling. Henry lets out a breathy laugh as well, pretending he understands the joke, before turning to the counter. Immediately, Cassandra's smile drops. It bothers Damon.
Damon thought he hadn't shared her with anyone. She was the only one he danced with, he was the only one who walked her to town. He'd been forced to share Katherine with Stefan, and apparently half of the tomb vampires, but Cassie had been his. His very good friend who he slept with occasionally, but his none the less. Clearly, he was wrong. And it leaves him with a strange bitter taste in his mouth.
"How do you know John, Henry?" Damon asks, gulping down some of his blood.
If he doesn't get distracted, he thinks he'll probably lash out, and all this would have been for nothing.
"I met him when I got out of the tomb," Henry nods, turning back from the counter with his own glass of blood. "He's been helping me out."
"Has he?" Cass wonders. "How?"
"Adapting. It's a whole new world out there! Cars, computers, !" Henry blabbers on happily. "There's so much to learn. He helped me get this place."
He gestures around. Damon hums, sending him a sarcastic grin. This place is a dump, nothing to be proud of.
"Do you live alone or is someone else here?" Alaric questions, sitting up in his chair.
Damon shoots him a look, not really liking the murdery glint in his eyes. Cassandra not so subtly kicks Alaric under the table. In front of them, Henry frowns.
"That's my friend's very passive aggressive way of asking," Damon explain, rising to his feet with a shrug, sending Henry an innocent smile. "Do you know a woman named Isobel?"
Unconsciously, he holds his breath. Henry glances at the other two sitting on the table, before looking back at Damon, already shaking his head.
"No, I don't know any Isobel. I only know John." Henry repeats. "He's my only real friend. He really showed me the ropes, you know? how to use a microwave, separate my whites."
"What else do you do for him?" Alaric asks again, clearly suspicious.
"I help keep an eye on things." Henry shrugs like it's obvious. When he's received with blank faces, he adds: "You know, with the others."
The words don't mean much to Alaric, and while Damon has a pretty good idea of who 'the others' are, Cassandra is the one who intervenes this time. She rises to her feet slowly, walking past Damon and closer to Henry.
"Now, why would John," she starts, one hand going up to fiddle with Henry's jacket. "Have you keeping an eye on the other vampires?" her voice is smooth as silk as she looks up at him through her eyelashes.
Damon takes his thought back. Whatever Cassandra had with Henry was nothing like what she had with him. He has never seen her like this. She looks dangerous, hot but dangerous.
"They're still pissed with the founding families for trying to—to burn them alive." Henry stutters, looking down at Cassandra. "I'm cool, but, those tomb boys, they want revenge."
Tomb boys, really, Henry? Damon thinks, inwardly rolling his eyes. Cassandra hums, stepping away from Henry's personal space and leaning back on the counter. She's thinking hard about something, Damon can see it behind her eyes, he just doesn't know what.
"What does John want with them?" Alaric asks.
"He just wants to make sure they stay out of trouble." Henry nods.
"Well, that's John." Damon chuckles. He and Cassie share a look, and he knows she's just as suspicious of this whole thing as he is. "Such a do-gooder."
"Absolutely." Cassie agrees with a little smirk that has a hint of evil. "He makes the world a better place."
She looks at him, smirk still in place. Except that when she looks at him, the threat behind her eyes disappears. It stings, for some reason, and Damon doesn't know why. Just then, a phone begins ringing loudly. Henry fishes it out of his pocket, looking from the screen and back to them with an easy grin.
"That's John now." He lets them know.
Damon acts before Henry can ruin everything. He stretches his hand out, a fake smile on his face that Henry believes immediately. After all, Henry knew human Damon.
"Oh, hey, let me talk to him." Damon requests.
Henry hands him the cellphone without thinking.
"Oh, yeah." He smiles.
Damon takes the phone, looks down at it as it continues to ring. Behind Henry, Alaric slowly rises to his feet. Cassandra stays where she is, leaning her elbows on the counter, and watching the scene carefully. The seconds go by, the phone continues its incessant ringing.
"Are you going to answer that?" Henry asks slowly with a nervous laugh.
"Am I… going to answer that?" Damon repeats, already knowing the answer.
"No." Cassandra shakes her head, pushing herself up.
Henry looks around. His eyes go from the quickly approaching Alaric, to a Cassandra that holds no cheerfulness to her persona anymore, to a very serious Damon. He realizes what's happening, how they're all slowly but surely cornering him, and reacts. His instinct is to go for Damon, without paying mind to the short redhead in-between them. Damon's mind works the situation quickly, mostly focusing on the fact that he should probably get Cassandra out of harm's way, right? She might be older, but she's still tiny. Before he can push her behind him at the same time he hits Henry, Cassandra takes a step to the left, calm as can be, and her hand shoots out. Henry gasps out in pain. It takes Damon a second to realize her hand is around Henry's heart.
"Henry, Henry, Henry," she admonishes. "Why?"
The question means nothing to Damon and one look Alaric's way tells him the human is too shocked to notice much. Henry looks down at her, breathing strained.
"I'm sorry, Cass." He manages to get out.
"I know you are," Cassandra says with a sweet smile. She studies his face as her other hand goes up to his cheek in an almost forgiving gesture. Her smile drops. "But it's not enough. Goodbye, Henry."
Henry panics, his vampire face is revealed as his hand goes up, clawing at Cassandra's arm. The woman doesn't even blink as she rips her hand out of Henry's chest, his heart on her hand. Henry gasps in pain before his eyes close and he collapses on the floor, dead. Damon's eyes go from the dead Henry to Cassandra and back again. Something stirs inside of him, something he's never felt for her, not even when he was human: fear. One glance at Alaric lets him know he's not the only one thinking it. Cassandra Woodhouse is scary as hell.
"What?" Cassandra demands when the seconds pass and neither men does anything but stare at her. "Oh, don't look at me like that. He had to die, you know it."
With that, she carelessly throws the heart into the sink without an ounce of regret. Alaric takes a step back. Damon lifts his hands up, conceding.
Damon pours two glasses of blood from the AB negative bag, the last full bag in Henry's stash. Not that Henry will be needing it, anyway, considering he's currently a heavy, desiccated corpse on the floor. He spares him a glance before dropping the empty blood bag on the sink, grabbing the glasses, and making his way to the living room.
Cassie is sitting on the chair near the window, its large cushions are slightly battered and her nail digging into the armrest doesn't help, but she doesn't seem to pay attention to any of it. Her eyes are stuck to the scratched second-hand coffee table, deep in thought. Sat on the couch directly in front of the coffee table, Ric rubs at his forehead, nursing a beer like there's no tomorrow.
"Hey," Damon calls softly. Cassie blinks and looks up at him. Her nail stops scratching at the armrest. "Here." He hands her a glass.
"Oh, thank you." Her lips stretch as she takes it, green eyes shining.
"Did you find anything?" he asks her.
"Nothing." She shakes her head. "The place is clean." At that, her eyes travel to Alaric.
Damon sighs, sitting down on the other chair available. He knows she's here for Alaric, because for some strange reason she feels bad for the teacher, wants to help him get some closure. But if Damon's being completely honest, he's here because he thought he'd finally get a lead on Katherine. She's the one who sent Isobel to him, no matter what John says, Damon knows it. That means Isobel knows where Katherine is.
"This was a real dead end." Alaric groans, passing a hand down his face.
"I wouldn't beat myself up over it, man." Damon shrugs, taking a sip from the glass. "What did you think you were going to find, uh? Isobel with a cigar and slippers?"
While Cassandra doesn't seem to find the joke funny, at all, Alaric lets out a breath of laughter that's just as self-deprecating.
"Aw, man." Alaric shakes his head, taking a swig of the beer bottle. "I—I gotta stop this. I can't—I can't keep searching for her."
"Really? After only two years?" Damon scoffs. "That's actually moderately healthy."
Alaric chuckles along with him. Honestly, he's just trying to be supportive in the only way he knows how, reminding Alaric that he's been there, too. Cassie sighs, taking a long gulp from her glass. His eyes jump to her. He sees the way her eyes find their way to the back of her head, how her eyebrows furrow. Clearly, the two men talking about getting their hearts broken by the women they love is a complete waste of her time.
"What are you going on?" Alaric comments, ignoring the redhead's annoyance. "a-hundred-and-forty-six?"
"I figured the two-hundred-year mark is probably a good stopping point." Damon clears his throat, suddenly not so happy about where the conversation is going.
The memory of Katherine still hurts. His love for her still exists, no matter how much he's beginning to hate her.
"What about you?" Alaric asks.
Damon looks up, confused. Cassandra seems to be just as confused as he is. Her eyes go to Damon and then to Alaric, who has turned towards her, the question he spoke present in his face as well. She opens her mouth before closing it again, deciding to take another drink from her glass before speaking. This time, however, she downs the entire blood until there's none in the glass.
"Oh, I—I don't really," she lets out a breath. "I'm usually the one who leaves people behind."
Alaric nods slowly, clearly having expected everything but that. And while Damon can see she's not exactly proud of it, it serves as a reminder that he's one of the people she left behind. Before he can help it, he finds himself scoffing. Immediately, Cassandra looks up from the empty glass in her hands, eyes narrowed.
"You have something to say, Damon?" she asks him, eyebrows raised.
"Just thinking," Damon shrugs. "How many of them think you're dead?"
He regrets it right after he says it, but it's too late to take it back, so he decides to go with it. In front of him, Alaric clears his throat, shuffling in his seat. Damon pretends not to notice, too busy staring at her.
"I thought we were past this." Cassandra takes a deep breath in, sending him an exasperated look.
"Yeah, so did I." He smiles bitterly, lifting his glass to her.
"When are you going to leave the past behind, Damon?" Cassandra demands. "I apologized."
And he forgave her. At least, he thought he had. Except today has been filled with little reminders of the fact that she faked her own death and didn't even think of warning him. She didn't even say goodbye. Sure, he spent the entire night before and early morning with her, but she didn't say goodbye, didn't hint at something being wrong. And then she got up and left, without looking back. It hurt, secretly he thinks it still does. She was the closest thing to a best friend he ever had, excluding Stefan, and he thought he'd lost her forever. He thought she'd died, in pain and alone, probably scared too. At least Katherine was in the tomb, he knew he'd see her again, but Cassie, Cassie was gone forever.
Except that she's not gone forever. She's completely fine, and she's been completely fine for the last century and a half, without even sending him a postcard or anything. She told him she thought she was protecting him, but her words now suggest she's done this before. Henry's sadness over her supposed death, Henry clearly mourning her, are proof of that. Maybe Katherine was right all those years ago, Cassie manipulated people until she got what she wanted, no matter who she hurt in the process. Damon never believed it, but maybe he should.
"You ignored me for a century, Cassandra, I think it's okay for me to hold a grudge," he says without missing a beat, not letting the very observant vampire get a hint of his troubled thoughts.
Something flashes behind her eyes. He figures it's anger, just like it's happened each time they argue, except that her eyes don't burn the same way they do when she gets mad. His words hurt her, he realizes. She clears her throat, looks down at the glass in her hands. Damon's eyes jump to Alaric, who is already shaking his head. He shrugs.
"Nu-uh," Cassandra suddenly lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I'm not having the same fight again. Good night, gentlemen."
With that, she slides the glass onto the coffee table and rises to her feet, walking past Damon without even so much as sparing him a glance. He frowns down at his glass, taking another long gulp. Damon won't say he has a particularly favorite type of blood, but over the years he's found that he enjoys AB negative more. Maybe because it's so rare. Now, however, it has a certain bitter taste to it. Great, this woman is making him so angry she's putting him off food.
"Oh, and by the way, Damon." Cassandra comments just as she reaches the living room's door. "Isobel wasn't tied to Katherine. She was tied to me."
Damon tenses. He doesn't look up from his glass, though, doesn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him affected by her words.
"What do you mean?" Alaric asks, perking up once more at the mention of his wife.
"I'm the one who gave her Damon's address. She wanted to meet him, and I was the only one who knew where to find him."
Something stirs inside of him, Damon doesn't know what it is, but he does know that he's suddenly regretting what he said. Because her knowing where he lived back then suggests that she's kept an eye on him for a while. When he turns around, Cassie is already gone. He sighs, slumping back on his seat. Why wouldn't Isobel tell him then? Yet again, why wouldn't she tell him that she was sent by Katherine, had that been the case? He rubs at his temple, fighting off a headache.
"She's something else." Alaric chuckles.
"Yeah." He agrees with a clear of his throat. "She was my best friend."
He's not sure why he's telling Alaric this, but Stefan loves her and he's not a big fan of Damon talking shit about her. Alaric, however, has only known Cassie for three weeks. He's neutral. Alaric scoffs. Damon frowns at him.
"What?" he demands, defensive.
"Seriously?" Alaric raises his eyebrows, looking at him like Damon's missing some big point.
"What?" Damon repeats.
"Nothing, man." He shakes his head, rising to his feet. "Let's go. I don't want to think about Isobel, or even talk about Isobel ever again."
Damon shrugs, downing back the rest of the blood and leaving the glass on the table. He walks out of the house with conflicting emotions, but mostly he's disappointed because the last lead he had on Katherine has proved to be completely useless. The drive back to Mystic Falls is completely quiet, and he doesn't miss the way Cassie angles herself towards the window, so she doesn't have to look at him.
Cassandra walks into the Boarding House, immediately going to the library, where she can hear Elena. The human girl is sat on the large couch in the lower level of the room, writing away in her journal. The fire crackling inside the mahogany mantel chimney showers the whole room with warm, orangey light. Cass sighs, flopping down next to Elena. This stupid errand was a bust. She killed Henry. Henry. She rubs at her forehead, fighting the urge to cry. She did not care about Henry. She did not care about Henry. She did not—oh, who is she kidding? Henry was her friend, once. And she just killed him in cold blood. All because he threatened Damon. Judas, she has issues.
"Hey." Elena greets her. "Where's Damon?"
Stupid Damon who hates her still. Cass feels like such a fool. They'll never have what they did oh-so-long-ago. It was stupid of her to hope maybe they would.
"He's parking the car." She grumbles.
"Okay," Elena says, closing her journal. "How did the errand go?"
"Pathetically, embarrassingly, horribly wrong." Cass whines, sliding down the couch until she's half-lying on it.
"Wow." Elena half-giggles. Cassandra nods, humming in agreement. She wishes she hadn't gone. "What happened?"
She shrugs, stretching upwards as she sits back up. She props her leg up as she turns to face Elena, leaning her chin on her knee.
"Well, your uncle? He's a very shady man." Cass points out. "Except that we already knew that. Alaric thinks I'm a psycho. And Damon hates me."
Elena's eyebrows rise up into her forehead.
"Why would Alaric think you're a psycho?" she asks, partially shocked.
"Because I killed someone." She admits. Elena breathes in sharply, mouth opened. "A tomb vampire! I killed a tomb vampire, who was already trying to kill us!" she rushes, trying to keep Elena from freaking out.
The girl relaxes as she nods, frowning. Before Cass can continue talking, explain how maybe they should go away for a bit, considering John 'keeping an eye on the tomb vampires' can be everything but good, Damon walks into the room, leather jacket still on, and flops down beside Elena, nudging the human away so they can all sit together. He turns to her, an apology clear on his eyes. Cass nods slightly, accepting it.
"Has Stefan eaten today?" Damon asks Elena, turning away from Cass.
"I thought you didn't care." Elena sasses back.
"Chalk it up to morbid curiosity." Damon shoots back with a shrug.
Cass smiles. It's not curiosity. She can see how he genuinely wants to know, how he hopes the answer is 'yes'. She hopes that, too. Stefan starving himself isn't good. It shows he's heading down a very dangerous path.
"He's getting there." Elena lets them know with a sigh, hands tightening around her journal. "But he has a lot of guilt to deal with."
Cass nods, agreeing whole-heartedly. Stefan has done a lot in the past century and a half, more than Elena will ever know. He's killed so many people, he's probably lost count, except that Cass knows he hasn't.
"It doesn't help you've spent the last one-hundred-and-forty-five years blaming him for Katherine getting caught." Elena adds, accusing.
"Wait—you what?" Cass blurts out, frowning at him.
That's ridiculous. Katherine getting caught was nobody's fault. It was her idea. It would happen, whether the Salvatore brothers had fallen in love with her or not. In-between the two women, Damon frowns deeply, glancing between them.
"What, this is my fault now?" he demands.
"No, Damon, it's no one's fault." Elena denies. "I'm just saying… you're not exactly innocent. You've made it your life's mission to make him miserable."
This is where Cassandra disagrees. Damon may not be innocent, that part is true, but he has sacrificed so much for his little brother. Damon rises to his feet, visibly upset.
"Let me ask you something," he starts, already walking away. "In all this cleansing of the demons of Stefan's life, did you bother to hear the rest of the story?"
"He said there was more." Elena answers slowly.
"That's an understatement." Damon scoffs.
"What are you talking about, Damon?" Cassandra asks, running after him. "Hey! Tell us. What is it?"
Damon turns to her with a frown across his face. She doesn't think she's ever seen him this hurt. Her stomach clenches with worry. His icy blue eyes go to Elena, and Cassandra's worry doubles when he doesn't hide his pain with the human girl. Damon turns back to her, a question in his eyes. She frowns, not following. Until she feels the soft tapping behind her eyes. The main reason she lets him enter her mind is surprise. Still, Damon shows her the memory without paying mind to her discomfort.
What's so important about his transition? She doesn't get it. Until she pays closer attention and realizes Damon was weaker than he should have been, and it's nighttime already. It's almost over, he thought. Unconsciously, she scrunches her eyes closed. He had wanted to die. Katherine was gone. She was dead. He thought he had nothing to live for. Her heart aches, even if she knows he eventually consumed human blood, or else he wouldn't be here. Once more, she regrets leaving.
Suddenly, Stefan was there with a young girl by his side, boasting about how amazing vampirism really was. He tempted Damon with fresh blood, forced him to the girl's wounded neck until Damon fed. He had tried not to, but the smell was too tantalizing, the hunger too strong. Cass gasps, opening her eyes.
"I had no idea, Damon." She promises.
Emily practically forced her to leave Mystic Falls the second the vampires were gathered. The last time she saw him, he'd just been shot for trying to help Katherine, Stefan laid half-dead next to him. She hadn't wanted them to die alone, Cass remembers having thought, she had wanted to be there for them, to assure them that death isn't as bad as everyone says. She couldn't do that, however, as it would have ruined the entire plan. It was imperative that as many people in the supernatural community as possible thought her dead, at least at the very beginning. So, she had waited until they both drew their last breath, and then she said goodbye. She didn't even know they had completed the transition until three months later, when she sent someone to check up on both brothers.
In front of her, Damon shrugs like it's nothing, like Stefan didn't take the most important choice away from him. For the first time since meeting him, Cass actually wants to hurt Stefan. This is unforgivable.
"What's going on?" Elena demands, looking between the two vampires.
"Damon wanted to die, Elena." Cass explains. She's aware that she sounds angry, but she doesn't care. Elena's eyes widen. "Your boyfriend, however, took that choice from him, forced him to feed."
"Oh, my god." Elena gasps.
"The moment Stefan tasted human blood, he was a different person." Damon explains to the human girl.
He sends Cass another glance before walking back into the room. He turns to the bourbon decanter and quickly begins pouring himself a glass. Cass joins him. She needs hard alcohol to get over this new piece of information. Damon passes her a glass without her having to ask for it. The bourbon is stronger than she thought it would be, still she doesn't let the burning affect her. It helps as an excellent distraction from the absolute guilt threatening to consume her. She takes another long gulp.
"Oh, god!" Elena suddenly gasps. Cass turns to her, a question plain on her face. "He said he wanted to die. That's why he won't feed."
Cassandra frowns. Her heart does this weird thing inside her chest, like it's trying to squeeze itself to death. Stefan drowning in guilt and pain to the point of having suicidal thoughts scares her.
"Now I understand why, but…" Elena trails off, shaking her head.
"His choice. If he's stupid enough to make it, so be it." Damon practically sneers, drinking from his glass.
"Don't do that, okay?" Elena snaps before Cass gets the chance to. She begins to walk away, hurried. "Don't pretend like you don't care."
With that, Elena Gilbert is disappearing down the hall like the house is on fire. Cassandra follows her, not liking the urgency surrounding the human girl. Cass follows Elena down to the basement, where the cellar door is wide open. Oh, no, no, no.
"He's gone." Elena breathes as she enters the small room.
"Elena, the sun will rise in a couple of hours." Cassandra warns, noting that Stefan's ring is sitting comfortably on the cot.
She has half a mind to tell Elena off for giving what was clearly a grieving, full-of-regret vampire his daylight ring, especially considering he's still technically quarantined, but decides against it. Elena is probably already thinking the same thing. She rushes to the cot, grabbing ahold of Stefan's ring like it's a piece of his very soul.
"You don't think—" Elena asks Cass, turning to face her.
"I think," she starts, lifting her eyes from Stefan's ring to Elena's worried face. "You already know what he's planning to do. You need to find him."
This isn't her battle. The human girl before her is the only one who will be able to pull Stefan from the edge, at least she hopes. Elena, thankfully, doesn't need to be told twice. She sprints from the cellar, her steps distinctively loud through the staircase. Soon, Cass can hear the revving of Elena's SUV as she speeds away.
Damon seems lost in his thoughts when Cass returns from the basement. He's sitting in the couch Cass, Damon, and Elena had shared prior to the shocking discovery that Stefan's pain could lead to premeditated suicide. Is it premeditated, though? Or would it just be considered sudden? Cass wonders how long the idea has been bouncing off Stefan's mind for. She quietly sits down next to Damon, worried over the answer her mind immediately formed for her unasked question.
"Are you not going to go make sure Stefan doesn't kill himself?" Damon asks her, sending her a side-glance.
"It must be exhausting, pretending not to care about the most important person in your life." Cass points out.
She doesn't believe his act, not anymore anyways. Last week? Yes, she definitely thought Damon wouldn't have minded if Stefan died. Now, however, she's a hundred percent sure that Damon and Stefan love each other unconditionally, no matter how many times they claim to hate each other and try to kill each other. Damon would not have tried so desperately to get Stefan back on track, going as far as actually throwing him on that cellar and checking up on him daily, if he didn't still love his baby brother.
"I'm not pretending." Damon scoffs. He takes a large gulp from the glass, almost drinking half of its content. "I really don't care."
Cassandra hums, unconvinced. Elena is right, this whole pretending not to care act is quite tiring. She turns on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her as she leans her back on the armrest. Damon doesn't stray his eyes away from the fire. His mind must be on Stefan, Cass guesses, or maybe he's lost in the past. Whatever it is, the air around them is heavy.
"An eternity of misery. I never got that, you know?" Cassandra comments after a beat. "I guess Stefan forcing human blood down your throat is a pretty good reason to make such a declaration."
She's only talking so that she can get her mind off Stefan. She hopes Elena really is enough to talk Stefan out of his misery.
"Did you know Katherine wanted to turn Stefan, too?" Damon asks her.
She blinks, confused with the change of topic. Sure, they're still talking about Stefan, but she can't see why he's bringing Katherine into the conversation. Specially with a question which answer has been common knowledge forever.
"Of course, I did." She answers immediately. Next to her, Damon shakes his head slightly. His eyes narrow. "She didn't tell you?"
"I wanted to spend eternity with her." Damon explains. "Turns out, for her, eternity meant sharing her with my little brother, too."
Well, that's just great. Katherine just reached a new low. More guilt weights Cassandra's stomach down until she feels like she might be sick. She thought Damon wanted to be a vampire, and that the chance of having Katherine with him forever was simply a plus.
"I always thought you wanted to be a vampire." She speaks, simply because she doesn't want to jump to conclusions.
Next to her, Damon pulls a face, finally turning to look at her fully. Her heart sinks.
"It's been one hell of a ride." He shrugs.
While his words suggest it's nothing, his tone betrays his real feelings. Clearly, he hadn't wanted to be a vampire for the thrill of it. Clearly, Damon's eagerness to become a creature of the night had come from the possibility of being with Katherine for eternity. Him wanting to die, to not complete the transition, was proof enough of that. And, clearly, he's still bitter about the whole thing. Cass hopes with all her heart that he has at least learnt to love being a vampire. She fears he might not like it, still, that a part of him wishes he was human.
"I am sorry, then."
"Why?" Damon asks, and his utter confusion has her even more confused than he seems.
"For turning you." Cass retorts, straightening up in her seat.
"Katherine turned me." Damon shoots back with the same tone.
"No, I did." She insists. "Don't you remember?"
Damon considers her for a moment, eyebrows scrunched up together in a deep frown. She can't believe he doesn't remember the very last time they were together. That was goodbye, even if Damon didn't know it at the time. It hurts a little. Suddenly, recognition washes over him. He looks up at Cass, icy blue eyes wide.
"Katherine hadn't fed you her blood in two days, Damon." Cass reminds him. Her voice is soft, careful. "And that was the morning of the day you died."
"Your blood turned me." Damon mumbles, eyes lost somewhere in the Persian rug below them.
Cassandra nods but chooses to remain quiet. She leans her head back until the curve of her neck is resting on the tall armrest. The Boarding House is beautiful, she notes as green eyes roam around the room they're in, all dark colors and polished wood. It radiates warmth, the solemn kind that commands respect, the reminiscent kind that feels like home. It's strangely anemoic, which is a curious thing, as she's been alive for the better half of History. Still, this house makes her melancholic for a time she could never be a part of, a time she thinks maybe could have never happened.
"About that memory…" she comments, lifting her head so she can look at Damon.
She understands now why he's so angry with her, why he reacted the way he did when he saw her again. Damon thought he'd lost her forever, he was so sad over the fact that he didn't get a chance to tell her goodbye, that Cass and Katherine were dead that he had wanted to die himself. She wants him to know that she lost him, too, and it killed her.
"Cassie, don't." Damon complains, scrunching his face up as he sends her a look. "I didn't show it to you so you'd go all Dr. Phil on me!" His tone becomes sarcastic and light-hearted at the end.
"Okay," Cass giggles, hugging her right leg to her torso.
Damon's lips stretch into a slight smile. Their eyes meet.
"Just one more thing." Cass adds.
Damon rolls his eyes at her but otherwise doesn't move.
"I know you and Stefan don't have the best track record in the world, but, having your brother as company for eternity?" she shrugs. "That's not the worst thing in the world. I would have killed for the chance to have my siblings with me forever."
With that, she rises to her feet, a night, Damon as a goodbye. Damon says it back, softly, as he sits back on the couch, eyes on the fireplace once more. She leaves because she fears she may do something stupid if she doesn't, but she calls Elena every five minutes until the girl answers, three hours later, with the news that Stefan is, indeed, okay. While that makes Cass sigh with relief, deep in her heart she's still worried, and she spends the rest of the night trying to come up with a not-crazy, viable reason as to why Jonathan Gilbert wants to make sure the tomb vampires remain in Mystic Falls. Even if she's almost sure she already knows why.
UPDATED: 16/01/2020