A/N: Here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy! The plot is picking up as Lacey gets more involved, so I'll probably end up doing one episode per chapter in the future (at least for a couple).

Disclaimer: I only own Lacey.

History Repeating/The Turning Point

The next few days were spent answering Jeremy's questions whenever they came up. I even answered questions that I didn't know the answer to, so I hope he doesn't ask Damon about his bathroom habits. Cue the evil smirk. Let's just say Jeremy will be thinking the Salvatore bathrooms are a bloody mess. Hehehe.

The air is getting cooler since it's November now. Mom offers to drive me to school, but I decide to walk. It's not too cold yet, just crisp.

As usual, I meet Jeremy at the front doors. "Whazzuppp, champ!" I shout as I run up to him. He waves energetically, holding his arms out when he sees I'm not stopping. I launch myself into his arms, nearly knocking him over.

"Whoaaa," he laughs. "Someone is in a good mood today. I was worried," he continues. "You haven't been quite so crazy the last few days."

"Eh," I say. "The," I vigilantly scan the surrounding area and lower my voice to a stage whisper, "supernatural situation had to get to me at some point." I shrug. "I'm feeling back to normal now, though."

"Good. It's weird when you aren't being super weird and slightly psychotic."

"No comment," I comment.

We make it to my locker, which is unfortunately in a different hallway than his. "I'll meet you in homeroom," Jeremy says.

I wave him off and turn to put away my backpack, but it's slammed down to the ground. Whirling around, I find none other than Tyler Lockwood. I can't believe this guy. I don't know what I ever did to deserve his animosity, but I'm not having it.

"Get out of the way, freak," he sneers.

I pull my shoulders back and lift my chin, looking him in the eye. "Tyler Lockwood," I start. He smirks, clearly expecting to be berated. "You're… uhm." Oh, God. What do I say? What's a good comeback? "You look like a wet spaghetti noodle drenched in maple syrup." There. Ha. Beat that.

He stares, looking completely taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?" He takes a step forward into my personal space, and I take one back. "That better not mean what I think you're saying, or we're going to have real problems."

I keep backing up until I hit the lockers. "Yeah, well," I have no idea what he thinks it means. "It means exactly what you think it does." I declare. "Whatcha gonna do about it, you limp noodle?"

I flinch when Tyler hits the locker right next to my face. I am now trapped in a cage made of Tyler's limbs. Way to go, Lacey. I just had to run my mouth. I don't even know what he meant!

"I think you need me to show you just how wrong you are," he leers, bringing his hand up to my face.

Before he can touch me, he's yanked off by an unknown man with light brownish-blonde hair.

"What the hell is going on here?" The man asks angrily. "You think it's funny to harass women? Huh?"

Tyler glares at me.

I smirk and wink at him when the interrupter is focused on him.

"No, sir. I was just having a chat with a friend. I'll be going now." He pulls out of the man's grasp and disappears down the hall.

"Are you alright?" The man asks, softly.

"Yeah," I say. "I appreciate your interference, but I could have taken him. One punch and he would've been scrambled eggs," I state, matter-of-factly.

"That's, uh…" The man stares at me strangely. "Alright, well. I'm the new history teacher. If you need any help in the future." He holds his hand out. "Alaric Saltzman. It's a mouthful, I know. You can call me Ric."

I give him a blinding smile and shake his hand enthusiastically.

His eyes widen comically, and I have to hold back a laugh. "Lacey Galileo. Nice to meet ya, Ric. I look forward to learning all the knowledge in that noggin of yours."

The warning bell sounds, and I let go of his hand. "I should get going now. See you in 2nd period!"

He seems nice. Much better than no manners Tanner, for sure.

I make it to homeroom just before the bell rings. Jeremy glances at me and mouths "Are you okay?"

I nod, reflexively giving a double thumbs up.

The rest of the morning is pretty boring. I run into Elena and Bonnie in the hall on my way to Ric's classroom. He asked to meet Jeremy at lunch and I'm meeting him there.

I overhear them talking about ghosts and a necklace before they notice me and change the topic. Hmmm. I guess there's more going on than I thought.

I can't help but feel a little bitter about being left out of the action. I haven't heard from Damon in days since that night at the Grill. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Stefan around either.

I reach Ric's classroom and poke my head in.

"These old towns have a rich history, so just get your hands dirty, make it sing, and you're back on track. Deal?" Ric finishes saying as I walk in.

"Did someone say 'sing'?" I ask. "Because I've got a few show tunes I've been meaning to gift everyone's ears with."

"Lacey," Alaric greets. "I'm glad to see you're still doing okay."

"Right-o, Ric. I'm always okay, even when I'm not."

"Wait, what happened now, Lace?" Jeremy groans.

"Just a little situation earlier with Tyler. Nothing serious," I brush off.

"Looked pretty serious to me," Ric mutters. "He had her up against the locker."

I throw my hands up. "Why, Ric, why? Why do you have to betray me like this?" I turn to Jeremy, who looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel. "I had it handled. He was whipped cream in my hands."

"That may be the case," Jeremy grits out, "but he's always doing shit to you, and he needs to be taught a lesson."

"I can get him kicked out of school," Ric pipes up.

"Whoa! Everyone cool your jets," I blurt out. "It's like Jeremy said, he always teases me. It's not a big deal. Obviously, I'm not affected, so let's not worry about it."

Reluctantly, they agree. "But one more time and deal's off," Jeremy says.

Nodding, I leave them to further discuss the terms of his extra credit paper.

After school, I try to find Elena. I want to ask her about Steffy.

Wandering out to the courtyard, I find both my victims by a picnic table. "STEFFY!" I shout, garnering attention from the entire courtyard. "STEFFFANNN!"

Said victim looks toward me and waves, but the wonderful Elena just looks down. "What's new, chicken stew? Where've you been?"

Stefan gives me a rueful look. "Well, uh, as I was telling Elena, I won't be coming to school anymore. I'm gonna back off and keep my distance. It's the right thing to do."

I frown.

"Back off from school or from me?" Elena asks. Stefan doesn't respond. "Thank you for telling me."

"That's not cool, Stefan," I say. "Elena has been nothing but kind and accepting to you, and you're totally blowing her off."

"Look, guys. It's better this way."

"Yep. I got it," Elena says angrily and storms away.

Stefan looks at me. "You should be angry, too. It'll be easier if you hate me."

I stare blankly at Stefan until he moves to go. "You're wrong," I say quietly.

He stops walking but doesn't turn around. "It's not better, or easier. It's easy to lose yourself in sadness. It's easy to get lost, living on autopilot. It's easy to stop feeling. But anger is not better. It's hard to be angry with someone you love. It's one of the worst feelings, and one of the hardest to hold on to."

Stefan turns around. I meet his eyes for a moment before turning to walk home.

It's not that I'm never bothered by other people or influenced by their emotions. The people around me rely on me to always be that positive light, so I just choose to keep my world happy, and that's exactly what I choose when I ignore Stefan's Brood McBrooderson attitude. I said what I needed to say, and now I will be happy again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Smile.

XX

I'm halfway home when Damon appears in front of me. I barely have time to stop without running into him. "You don't have to say it, I know you missed me," he says.

"You know it, buttercup," I reply. "I'd ask if you're okay but since you're here and not lacking in the snark department, I already have my answer." I step around him and continue walking.

He falls into step beside me. "I have a question."

"And I have the answer."

"You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"Don't need to," I give an impish grin.

"Right," Damon remarks. "Forgot whom I was talking to for a minute there." He turns to me, walking backwards. "Did Stefan tell you why I came back to Mystic Falls?"

"No, Stefan didn't tell me anything." I stop walking. "Actually, I don't really know anything about you," I ponder with a frown. "Other than that you turned Vicki. And I'm guessing you killed Mr. Tanner-No-Manners." I chuckle. "You're taking out everyone on my hit list and I didn't even have to give it to you. High-five." I hold up my hand to him.

Damon smirks and smacks his hand against mine. "At your service," he bows. "But anyway," he turns back around to walk beside me. "There's this girl."

And there it is, dammit. I should have known. I internally groan. Heh, that rhymes. I am the rhyming queen.

"Her name is Katherine. Once upon a time, both Stefan and I were with her. She was our sire." He looks over at me to make sure I'm paying attention.

I motion for him to continue.

"He thought she died back in 1864, but I convinced a witch to protect her. She used the comet passing over head to draw energy into her magic. Now that the comet passed again…"

"You can get her out of the tomb," I finish.

"Exactly," Damon confirms. "I just need to get a necklace back from Bonnie. She's a witch, if you didn't know," he says at my confused expression. "A descendent of the one who cast the spell."

"Seriously, that's not fair." I throw my head into my hands. "Everyone in this town is so much cooler than me, now. I used to be at the top. I used to be number one. Stupid supernatural… peoples."

We arrive at my house and Damon walks me up to my front door. "Well, thank you for telling me," I say. I'm a bit disappointed, but I already told myself that he would never be with me, so I'm not too devastated. "If you need any help or anything, you can depend on me to deliver results," I promise him.

"I appreciate that, especially since everyone seems to be working against me."

"Of course, those results may in fact end up being nothing," I continue, unabashed. "But they'll be delivered." I smile up at him as he rolls his eyes.

"And there's the Lacey I know."

I open the door to go inside but stop when I hear Damon tell me to wait. "I have something for you," he says, reaching into his pocket. "You might not drink vervain every day, so I want you to wear this. Just in case."

He holds out a silver anklet, the chain made up of small, round charms, with alternating embedded diamonds and some type of blue stone.

"Damon, it's beautiful," I gush, taking it and holding it in the sun. "Thank you- ooh, sparkles."

"I figure your ankle is the best place for you to wear vervain," he explains. "It's not as obvious as a necklace or bracelet. You'll be… safer."

I bend down to fasten it. "That's very thoughtful of you," I noted. "I'll never take it off."

"Well, you're not bad company, princess," he drawls. "I'd hate for someone to get to you before I eventually tire of you."

"Mhmm, sure. Whatever you have to say to feel better, Damon. Pretty sure it's the other way around."

I wave goodbye, watching him leave.

XX

I spend the rest of the afternoon with my parents. With all that's been going on, I bask in the normalcy of eating pizza on the couch and hearing all the doctor gossip.

"How's school, sweetie?" Mom asks. "I feel like we haven't seen that much of you, lately. Though, that's also our fault. Just say the word and we'll take some time off, go do something fun together."

"School's good," I reply. "We got a new history teacher. His name is Mr. Saltzman, but he wants us all to call him Ric. He's a definite improvement," I comment. "And I don't really feel like going out to do anything besides this." I gesture to the T.V. and couch. "I like this. Just spending time with you guys."

"You get that from me," Dad jokes. "'The outside world is a very dangerous place, my flower.'"

Mom nudges him hard with her elbow.

"Oh!" I exclaim. "Great idea. Can we watch Tangled?"

"For only the millionth time?" Mom rolls her eyes. "Of course we can."

"We have to sing along, too," I continue, happily. "I'll be Rapunzel. You," I point to my mom, "can be Mother Gothel, and Dad's Flynn."

An hour and 40 minutes later, everyone's eardrums are thoroughly busted. "Everyone take two Tylenol and call it a night," I say.

"Can't," Dad says, walking out of the room, grumbling and rubbing his head. "I've got to be at work in an hour. I think I'll walk there. Get some exercise and shake off the migraine you've given me."

"You sure, honey?" Mom follows after him.

"It's only a 30-minute walk."

"Okay. If you're too tired in the morning, call me and I'll drop you home before my shift." I hear their conversation fade as they walk away.

Grabbing a pair of footed dinosaur pajamas from my bedroom, I walk down the hall to take a shower before sleepy time.

I turn the water all the way hot and let it unwind my muscles. "Ahhh." Looking down, the anklet Damon gave me catches my attention. I sit down under the stream of water and take a closer look.

The stones look like the same type as his ring. I smile at the thought of him giving me matching jewelry. It must have cost a fortune, but I guess he's got plenty of money after being alive for so long. Note to self: ask Damon for a $50,000 check for Christmas.

Now that I'm alone, I finally have time to think about everything I learned.

Apparently, he was alive back in 1864, and he's been in love with Katherine ever since. That's… over 150 years in love with the same girl. I can't help but admire his commitment. I stomp down the envy that flares inside me. I'm sure she's a wonderful girl, she has to be to have inspired over a century of adoration. And if I really lo- If I really care about him, I should just want him to be happy.

I climb out of the shower and hurriedly towel dry my hair. When it looks like a cross between a wet mop and a haystack, I'm satisfied.

Wearing footed pajamas instantly improves my mood. I take a running start and slide into my bedroom to find none other than Mister Damon Salvatore sitting on the end of my bed, looking glum.

"Daaaaayyyyuuummm Damon," I whisper yell as I keep sliding past him and hit my wall. "Hubba, hubba." I wink with both eyes. "You pull off broody better than Stefan."

The corners of his lips lift slightly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" I ask with a 100 percent authentic British accent.

"Bonnie blew up the necklace."

"Oh well that's nice then," I say. "Bonnie blew up the… huh? Bonnie did what, say what?"

"The necklace I need to open the tomb," he explains, rubbing his hand down his face. "Emily possessed Bonnie and destroyed it."

"But that means…"

"Yeah."

I jump up on the bed beside him and nudge him with my shoulder. "Did you kill her?" I ask.

"Am I that predictable?" He retorts with a short laugh.

I hold up my index finger and thumb in front of my face, squinting my eyes. "Just a smidge."

Sighing, Damon leans back on my bed and stares at the ceiling. "St. Stefan saved her before she died," he says, scorn poorly disguising a hint of relief.

I lay back beside him. "I take it nobody's really happy with you, though." Turning my head, I find him already looking at me. "It'll be okay. There, there."

He reaches out, plucking my glasses off my face, which were smooshed there from laying on them. "When are these from, the 80s?" He asks, putting them on his face. "You really are a grandma."

Grimacing, he immediately takes them back off. "And blind."

I shove him, resulting in my falling off the bed. "Well, I'm a bat," I say from the ground, where I can't be bothered to get up from. "Which makes me halfway to being Batman. Better watch out or I may end up vigilante-hunting you down in the middle of the night."

"Even if this was remotely possible," he begins. "You're never out of bed after, like, 10 pm. And," he sits up and looks down at me. "In no way are you physically capable of defending yourself against anything, noodle arms."

Damon picks me up and places me back on the bed, taking his place beside me again. "Somehow," he muses. "You act like both an 8-year-old and an 80-year-old."

I turn onto my side to face him and close my eyes. "Well, that's just another one of my many charming qualities," I say while yawning. "And I take the noodle arm comment as a compliment. I love spaghetti. It's my… favorite…"

Damon laughs quietly. "I just… don't know what to do now. My goal has been to get Katherine out of that tomb for so long. Stefan wants me gone. I told him I'd leave, but…" he trails off.

I want to protest, but I'm too tired. I feel him drape a blanket over me.

"I don't know what I want anymore," he whispers. He presses a light kiss to my forehead, the last thing I feel before drifting into nothingness.

XX

The next day, I meet up with Jeremy at his house after school.

"I've been going through my ancestor's old journals, trying to pick a good topic for my extra credit essay," he says, handing me one. Standing beside me, he leans over and opens it to a marked page. "He wrote about demons and all of these people getting slaughtered. And about vampires…" He gives me a look.

Just as I'm about to reply, I hear Jenna pipe in. "Yeah, he was a writer, short stories, horror stuff."

Grabbing another book from the shelf, she hands it to Jeremy. "He was probably a lunatic or a drunk, so don't take it too seriously," she jokes.

Leaning closer to her, I stage whisper in her ear, "You can't say that." I point theatrically at Jeremy, who narrows his eyes at me. "That creep over there is both."

Jeremy gasps, mockingly affronted. "Lace! You can't just reveal my deepest secrets like that."

Jenna laughs. "Well, he is a Gilbert, after all," she says, patting Jeremy's shoulder as she leaves the room.

Jeremy sits down on the couch with his sketchbook. He starts to draw a creature from the descriptions in the Gilbert journals. I plop down beside him and stare over his shoulder until my phone buzzes.

Pulling it out, I see a message from an unknown number.

I need your help with something.

Hmmm. Who could possibly need my help with something? Oh no. It better not be who I think it is.

If this is Caroline, I already told you I'm not helping you with anything EVER AGAIN.

…this is Damon.

Oh, how did you get my number?

I have my ways. Where are you?

Jeremy's house.

Meet me down the street. I need you to do something for me.

Sure thang, fang XD LOL ROFL I'm too funny.

"Welp," I tell Jeremy. "This has been swell. I've got to go do some super-secret spy mission now."

He waves me off, focused on his drawing. "I'll let you know if I find something interesting in the journals," he says without looking up.

"Roger that, Steve Rogers," I salute even though he isn't looking and walk outside.

Looking both ways, I wonder which direction to walk. "Down," I repeat. "I should go downhill, then." I nod to myself. That makes sense.

I wait at the street corner for Damon. 5 minutes pass. I walk to the middle of the street and look to the other end. A dark figure stands, pacing. It turns to face my direction, and suddenly Damon is in front of me, looking annoyed.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but I cut him off. "Before you say anything, this is down the street." I motion to the slight slope. "See? Down. Abajo. En bas. This is the most practical I've ever been in my entire life!"

"And that's exactly why I was waiting at the top of the street," he says. "Anyway, time is ticking." He holds up a pocket watch.

I stare at it blankly. "That is what it does, Damon."

He smirks. "It's a special pocket watch," he explains. "A vampire compass. Leads you right to them. That is, if you aren't one." He points to himself. "I interfere with the signal, so I need you to take it and follow it to wherever it leads you."

"Ooh, it's like a treasure hunt! I'm so in." I reach up for the compass, but he snatches it back at the last minute and waves his hand in front of my face to catch my attention.

"Call me when you find where it's leading you," he says, looking in my eyes. "Don't go barging in wherever you find."

"Mhm, mhm, sure I gotcha," I say.

"Promise me," he insists.

I cross my finger over my heart, then hold out my pinkie for him to take. "Pinkie promise," I say.

Reluctantly, he wraps his pinkie around mine. I shake our now-joined fingers vigorously. He hands me the compass and disappears.

The compass lies silent in my hands. I take a step forward.

Nothing.

One more, then.

Nothing.

Hmmm, this might take longer than I thought. I look at the sun.

Ouch, my eyes! Not smart, Lacey, not smart. I've only got a few hours before the sun goes down. I'd better get started.

Ten minutes later, the compass finally stirs. I perk up, excited. I turn to follow it, picking up speed. I cross train tracks, random streets I've never seen before, a park that I didn't even know existe- oh hey, punch buggy.

I punch myself. "No punch backs!" Hehehe.

GEEZUS. How far do I have to walk? I am seriously winded at this point. I approach a random warehouse-looking building and the compass starts going crazy. I think I've reached the destination.

I pull out my phone and call Damon, only because I couldn't take on a vampire while wheezing as much as I am.

Damon appears in front of me suddenly. "Why are you breathing so hard?"

I scowl at him, handing him back the compass. "Hey, it was a lot of walking, okay."

"You're literally just over a mile from where you started."

"And you're a vampire with super speed. I don't think you're qualified to judge human physical abilities," I quip back.

"Yeah, sure. You can go home now," he says.

"What?" I cry out. "No way, I'm coming in with you." I cross my arms.

"How about no?"

"How about yes?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Please?"

Damon stares down at me with narrowed eyes. I see something shift, and I know I've got him. "Fine," he relents with a sigh. "Wait until I call you in, though."

"I can do that!" I start doing a little dance. "Da-da-da-da. I can do that!" I end with jazz hands.

"It kills me that I know what you're trying, and failing, to imitate," Damon says. We walk up to the warehouse door. "Wait here"

He looks around quickly before turning the door handle, breaking the lock. My mouth drops open. He is so cool. Swoon. What I wouldn't give to be able to break door handles.

I shift from one foot to the other while I wait for Damon to give the all-clear call. Out of the blue, I hear gunshots ring out and Damon groaning.

I look around for a weapon. Finding none, I'm about to go in all Rambo-like, or what I imagine Rambo would be like because I've never actually seen one of those movies, when I hear Damon shout.

"Stop! Don't come any closer," he pleads.

I pause. That tone sounded a bit different than a tone he would use with an attacker. I think he was trying to tell me to stay out there. I decide to hang out by the door to eavesdrop and scope out the situation more, wincing when I hear more bullets being fired.

"You made me like this," a man's voice says.

"I killed you. I didn't turn you," Damon replies.

"See, I know what you and your brother are. I've been watching the two of you. I knew you'd show up here and I'm glad you did because I have some questions."

"Me first. Who turned you?"

"How should I know? Last thing I remember is, I'm about to stake your brother and then you grabbed me. That's it! Until I wake up in the ground behind a used car dealership on Highway 4. Somebody buried me."

"It happens."

"You bit me. It had to be you."

"You have to have vampire blood in your system when you die. I didn't do that. Some other vampire found you, gave you their blood."

"Who?"

"That's what I wanna know."

"Dude, it's not like the welcome wagon was waiting with a bundt cake and a handbook. It's been a learn-as-you-go process. You know, one minute, I'm a small town on the rise news guy and next thing I know, I can't get into my house, because my foot won't go through the door."

Whoever this guy is, he sounds really bitter. I have to hold a hand over my mouth to stop myself from chuckling.

Wait… small-town news guy. Jenna was dating a Logan Fell but he disappeared. That's Logan Fell in there. Yeesh. I don't want to see that guy. I haven't heard any more gunshots for a while, so I calm down slightly.

I bore of listening to their conversation and decide to walk over to the adjacent copse of trees and climb one. It's getting darker anyway, so just in case Scum Fell decides to leave, I don't want to come face-to-face with him.

I throw my arms around a tree trunk and try to shimmy myself up. Yowwie, wow. Tree bark is painful. How did Katniss Everdeen do it? I struggle for a while longer before giving up, looking around for an easier tree.

I spot one with lots of lower branches and haul my legs over the first one. I manage to climb up three more before deciding my muscles must just be sore from walking earlier.

I lean against the trunk and pull out my phone, seeing 4 missed messages from Jeremy and two from my mom. I decide to open Jeremy's first.

Hate to disturb your secret spy mission, but I forgot to ask if you're going to career night.

You didn't answer, so I'll assume that's a no.

I'm starting to get worried. Let me know when you get this.

If you don't answer in 10 minutes, I'm going out looking for you.

I notice the last message was sent 5 minutes ago, so I quickly type out a reply.

I'm okay. Sorry, was walking and creeping around. I don't think I'll be going to career night. Get me a bunch of pamphlets. ;)

Okay. He replies instantly.

I click on my mom's messages.

Hey sweetie. Hope your day is going okay!

Have you heard from your dad? I got home early and he's not here and not answering my calls.

Her last message is from 5:45 pm. I look at the time and frown – it's 6:30. He's not supposed to be working today.

Haven't heard from him. I'll try calling him.

Before I can hit 'call,' I hear more gunshots from inside the warehouse.

I see the door open and hold my breath when Scum Fell leaves. I jump down and make my way over to check on Damon.

Opening the door, I poke my head in and see him starting to sit up in a pool of his own blood. He turns when he hears the door close, vampire face out, but calms down when he realizes it's just me.

With a sigh, he starts digging the bullets out of his torso. "I'm glad you understood me earlier and stayed outside. I thought it might've been a level above your understanding," he gibes, then his expression darkens. "He's dead when I get my hands on him."

"Of course," I nod absently, messing with my phone.

"Everything okay?" Damon asks, giving a pointed look to the phone in my hands.

"Yeah, I just…" I open my phone and navigate to my contacts. "My mom hasn't seen or heard from my dad all day," I explain. "I'm going to try calling him."

Damon nods and goes back to his self-surgery.

Hitting the call button, I bring the phone to my ear.

I hear the dial tone once before loud ringing sounds through the warehouse. Confused, I look up at Damon to see his brows furrowed.

His face suddenly pales and turns panicked. "Lacey…" he begins anxiously, but I'm no longer paying attention.

I walk farther into the warehouse, bringing my phone down from my ear and following the ringing. I see Damon struggling to get to his feet in my peripheral vision, but I keep walking around a corner until I see a pile of bodies, all bloodied and very, very dead.

Damon is beside me, hands on my shoulders trying to stop me and mouth moving, but I can't hear a word he says. I'm on autopilot, pushing his hands away, walking closer to the mutilated heap.

I stop when I'm right next to it, tears streaming down my face. My phone drops to the ground.

My dad's eyes stare blankly at the ceiling, unseeing. Dried blood runs from his neck down his white coat to his phone. It rings once more and falls silent.

I fall to my knees and reach out to clutch his hand in mine. I don't even notice the other bodies I'm kneeling on. Blood soaks into my clothes, but my sight stays focused on the face that I've spent my whole life looking up to.

Someone is screaming, "no, no, no, no," over and over. I realize when Damon lightly tugs on my arms that it's me.

He struggles to peel me away, eventually giving up and reaching for my dad's body. He lifts him up and carefully lays him a few feet away from the other bodies, me clutching my dad's hand the entire time.

Damon kneels down beside me. Arms pulling me to his chest, he cradles my head and rests his cheek on top of it. I wrap one arm around him, keeping the other tightly laced with my dad's cold one, and bury my tear-stained face in his torn shirt.

Time passes. I don't know how much. I'm vaguely aware of Damon removing one arm and talking on the phone. He pulls back and I look up blankly, seeing him ask something.

He holds up my phone to me, now with a cracked screen. I think he wants me to unlock it. I go mindlessly through the motion. He rubs my arm, clutching me back to his chest tightly.

I can't think. It's like time has frozen, and I don't know how to make it start ticking by again.

It starts with my breathing. I hear my unsteady breaths, lungs struggling to breathe in, then breathing out too fast.

I hear Damon's voice, soft apologies whispered in my ear. Eventually, he gets me to release my dad's hand. He helps me up, keeping an arm around my shoulders.

I realize that Damon is still on the phone. I hear my name, but I can't make out whom he is talking to.

"She's not speaking. I don't even think she's been hearing anything." He looks down at me, grasping his shirt in my firsts. "We need to… come up with an excuse so they search the warehouse."

Damon pauses as the other person speaks, his hold tightening around me. "Come take Lacey home," he says, voice hardening. "He's mine."

Hanging up the phone, he puts both hands on my shoulders, leaning down to look me in the eyes. "Stefan's coming to bring you home," he says.

"My mom…" I manage to croak out before my voice gives out.

"I texted your mom. She thinks you've been at the career fair," he assured. Turning hesitant, he starts again. "You'll have to… keep this to yourself. Just for a few hours. The police should contact your mom then."

I try to speak again, but nothing comes out. I close my mouth and nod instead.

Stefan suddenly appears in front of us. He holds out a hand. "Lacey…" he murmurs.

I shake my head, stopping him. There's nothing he, or anyone else, could say to make me feel any better.

I'm consumed in physical pain, every step hurts, but I let Stefan take my hand and lead me out of the warehouse.

Damon squeezes my shoulder and goes to leave, but I reach out to stop him. He looks back, scanning my face. I'm grateful he knows what I need without saying it aloud.

"I'll come back," he promises, smiling wistfully. "Leave your window open."

With that, he disappears.

Stefan offers his arm and I take it gratefully. He doesn't say anything and neither do I.

XX

When Sheriff Forbes comes by the house with the news of my dad's death later, I'm glad that Mom was too devastated to notice I had already been crying.

Jeremy shows up a few minutes later, breathing heavily from running over. He immediately pulls me into a hug, and I lean into it.

"I just heard. Stefan told Elena. She called me," he says. "I should have been there sooner. You should have called me at…" He lowers his voice. "You should have called me at the warehouse. I would have ditched that stupid career fair."

I step back, shaking my head. "I wasn't exactly able to talk, much less think." I look down, absently fidgeting with my hands. "I needed time to process, anyway."

"I get it," he responds. "Just don't do the same thing I did to you. Don't shut me out, okay?"

I manage to give him a small smile. "Of course I won't, Jer. I've always been the better friend," I try to say teasingly, but my tone falls flat.

"You have," Jeremy agrees. "I can stay if you want."

Remembering Damon said he would come over, I tell him to go home. "Tomorrow," I offer, to which he automatically agrees.

When he leaves, I go back to the living room, but Sheriff Forbes has already left. I go upstairs and see my parents' door closed.

I try the doorknob, but it's locked. "Mom," I call after knocking lightly.

She doesn't respond. I wait outside the door for an hour, calling every so often for her to open up, but she never replies.

I trudge to my bedroom and close the door. I lay down in the middle of my floor and stare at the ceiling. There are glow-in-the-dark stars I got for my 7th birthday stuck in astronomically correct constellations courtesy of my dad.

I sit up, not wanting to look at them anymore. Instead, I see Damon standing by the window, staring out of it.

"Damon," I whisper.

He turns around, looking down at me. There's conflict in his eyes for a moment before he blinks, and they soften.

"I killed him," he states simply.

"Him?" I question, unable to say the bastard's name anymore.

Damon just nods. "I knew he was going in that revenge book of yours, so I thought I'd just go ahead and get him out of the way now." He smirks slightly.

The corners of my mouth lift faintly, despite myself. "Thank you."

"He had it coming," He pauses, gazing at me with an unknown emotion. "What can I do?"

I walk over to my bed and get under the covers. "Just… stay?"

He moves silently to my bedside, climbing on top and leaning against the headboard. He brushes a hand over my forehead, and I close my eyes, exhausted.

"Always," he breathes out.

Bonus: Damon's POV after the warehouse debacle!

I left Lacey at the warehouse, trusting Stefan to get her home. This was not how I expected the evening to go.

She's just so innocent and trusting. I find myself caring for her, against my better judgment.

I'll never forget the look in her eyes when she saw her father lying amongst the corpses. I feel a stirring of guilt in my chest. I may not have turned Logan, but I was the one who killed him.

I've never seen Lacey cry before; I didn't even know she could. And that's what ignites my rage most.

She's always making me feel better, making me laugh with her uninhibited personality. I've never met anyone like her in all the years I've been alive, and that's a long time. But I couldn't do anything to help her. All my words went unheard, all my reassurances unfelt.

I came back to Mystic Falls for Katherine. She was my only goal and nothing else in this godforsaken town could interest me.

Until the night of the Founder's Party.

I had just retrieved the amulet from upstairs and was making my way back to the party, dragging Caroline with me when I heard Stefan singing.

"Stefan" and "singing" are two words that do not go together. I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard a tune come out of his mouth.

Pushing through the crowd surrounding an open floor, I abruptly stop, eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before me.

The little slip of a brunette girl I saw in the alley the night of the comet, then ran into at Elena's the other night was strumming a guitar off-beat and beaming at Stefan with crooked teeth and gleaming eyes.

Fittingly for a girl radiating such light, the song she was trying to play was "Here Comes the Sun." Stefan, for his part, had his arm linked with hers, spinning in circles.

I watched the girl, totally uncaring about the crowd watching her or the poorly disguised snickering from the corner of the room. I don't think she even noticed it.

I couldn't help teasing her after. I felt drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. After so many years in darkness, filled with nothing but pain and gloom, here was this little ray of sunshine that somehow ended up in my presence.

After that night, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Lacey – an apropos name for a girl who appears to be so delicate.

Running into her after the Halloween party, I discovered she was deceivingly strong. And she had a dark side.

She laughed off the death of her classmate, admitting she often plotted out revenge schemes.

The more I got to know her, the more I wanted to learn.

When I came to her the night Emily destroyed the necklace, I wasn't as torn up as I thought I would be. Mystic Falls had somehow come to mean more than just a place to get Katherine back; it was where Lacey was, and I found myself not wanting to leave.

So when I found out Logan Fell had single-handedly extinguished the sun, I wanted to take off after him and destroy him, limb by limb.

That's why I find myself throwing him to the road at an intersection, sneering down at him.

He tries to stand up, but I pull out a gun and shoot him, knocking him back down. "Payback's a bitch, isn't it?"

I hear Sheriff Forbes speaking frantically through his phone from inside the car. Shooting him again for good measure, I flash to the car and let her know where we are. I notice Caroline knocked out in the passenger seat.

Deciding she's not a risk, I turn back to Logan, grabbing a tire iron from his trunk before strolling over to him. "First things first, I'm gonna try this one more time. Who turned you?"

"I told you I don't know," he replies. Pathetic.

"Okay, then." I shrug. "This tire iron here is going to take your head clean off."

I pull back my arm and start swinging the tire iron at his neck when he desperately calls out, "Wait, wait! I do know. You think you're the only one who wants to get in that tomb underneath the old church?"

I pause mid-swing, mind racing. How could he know about the tomb?

"There is another way to break the spell. We can help you. Meet me at the old church," he continues.

I freeze. There's another way to get into the tomb. This could be my only way of getting Katherine back.

Katherine.

I realize I haven't thought of her once in the past day, and I've been… happy? Or I was until about an hour and a half ago when Lacey found her dad dead in a pile of bodies that this scumbag drained.

Lacey.

I remember the look on her face again and the decision is made.

Gaze hardening, I swing the tire iron back again. "Not good enough."

I bring it down.

A/N 2: I couldn't put this at the top. Bet you weren't expecting that, though *insert evil smile.*

Did you guys like getting Damon's POV? When I wrote the chapter I realized I wanted to know what he was thinking, so I went ahead and wrote it.