The Crow and the Falcon. (Thirteen)

*So much for Plan B*. Damon thought to himself. *What is it about the nineties that are making my life so difficult? The 18th century was easier than this. And that was a whole century compared to not even a whole decade.* His sharp eyes picked Bruce running at a speed faster than most humans into the woods. *Ah, he wants to play. Fine by me. I enjoy a good hunt.* He swooped down low to the ground, shifting back to his human form at a run, laughing wildly as he went.

"Game's up, Brucey. You can't escape from me!" He yelled after the fleeing figure, who was having trouble running through the undergrowth. Damon sped through it easily, dodging the trees and shrubbery, seconds later passing by the panting boy. He stopped a few metres in front of him and leant against a tree. Bruce stopped short wide eyed.

"How...?" He flung himself to one side, ignoring the puzzle, and started running again. Damon moved quickly, placing himself in front of Bruce once again.

"I told you. You can't escape from me." The vampire examined a fingernail, an arrogant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Bruce changed direction again, only to find Damon in front of him once more.

"Out of my way." He snarled, and started muttering to himself.

"I'm /so/ pleased you've decided to play along. Makes my fun last a little longer." A wind started to pick up around Damon, and Bruce began to sweat visibly from his effort. Damon had the impression the thing inside wasn't helping the boy.

"I'm...warning...you..." He panted.

"You are?" Damon looked surprised. "Of this little breeze? You're hoping to give me a little chill? Wait until I'm distracted from sneezing, then make a break for it? Oh, /really/. Credit me with /some/ intelligence."

"/Out...of...my...way.../" Bruce snarled through clenched teeth, the wind twisting fiercely round Damon.

"No." Damon was growing bored with this. "Why don't /you/ stop." He reached out with his Powers and re-directed the wind towards Bruce. It whipped dust and leaves up and around into his face before it gentled and dissipated. "/That/ was child's play." Damon yawned. "If you've finished with the theatrics, do you think we could go back now?"

"No!" Bruce yelled, and ran back the way he had come.

"Oh, good grief." Damon sighed and sped after, catching the neck of the boy's sweater and jerking him back.

"Wha?" Bruce was surprised. Damon turned him round forcefully to face him.

"/Enough/ games." He snapped. Bruce struggled violently. "I /said enough/!" Damon snarled revealing his fangs. Bruce struggled harder, fear coursing through him. *I give up.* He sighed, and bit deep into Bruce's throat. The boy fainted, and Damon grinned to himself as he slung the body over his shoulder, and set off at a run for the house.

~*~

"Did you /have/ to knock him unconscious?" Cookie asked, exasperated. She eyed the pair in the centre of the circle, tied securely by Damon.

"I didn't. He fainted. It's hardly my fault if he's a complete coward, now is it. And how was I to know it would knock /her/ out, too."

"You weren't." She sighed. "But you shouldn't have scared him so much. We /need/ them to be conscious for this."

"I can rouse them with Power if you really want me too." Damon suggested.

"No. If we do that, it'll interrupt with the circle's energies."

"Yes, about that. You /could/ have warned me that I'd end up on the /inside/. I wasn't planning on that." He admitted, glancing uneasily at the salt circle outlined on the carpet. She'd cast it a little while before, invoking the elements, erecting the wards.

"You wouldn't be any use on the outside."

"I can't do much on the inside, either." He pointed out.

"You can get me out of trouble if something happens."

"I could do that from the outside."

"No, not the way this works. If you were human, you could. But you're not, and you have a thresh-hold restriction. You wouldn't be able to get into this, even if I yelled it at the top of my lungs. It's part of the protection of the circle that nothing supernatural can get out, and therefore in. That includes you."

"So how would I get you out of trouble?" He asked, picking at the glaring fault in the plan.

"Need. If you really /need/ to get out, you can break the powers of the circle with your own. You're strong enough."

"If they can be taken down, how come /you/ can't do it?"

"Because if I need your help, I won't be able to. Chances are I'll be out of it. Unconscious, maybe. Incoherent at the least."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. So keep a close eye on things."

"One thing." Damon said after a moment's thought. "If /I/ could take down the barriers, then what's stopping the spirit or whatever it is from getting out?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Um. Well, it sort of depends on luck."

"Luck." Damon said flatly. "Typical."

"The thing is nowhere near it's full Power. It's split, and that makes it weak. It's that reason that means those two still have their minds as intact as they do. It can't take them over entirely because it doesn't have a hold on itself. When it's drawn out, it should be too weak and disorientated to do anything, and in that time, I /should/ be able to banish it."

"And if you can't?" Damon asked quietly.

"Then we're in /really/ deep shit."

"You are owe me /big/ for this." He growled finally, voice full of conviction.

"I guess you'll have to put it on my slate, huh?" Cookie asked hopefully. Damon shot her an evil look, but, to Cookie's relief, didn't take it further.

~*~

Bruce and Lydia's eyes fluttered open, and widened in shock and panic when they realised they were tied, back to back, wrists securely trussed to the other's.

"Are you going to behave and co-operate?" Damon asked, a dangerous note ringing clearly through the guise of pleasance.

"Forget it." Lydia snapped.

Damon turned to Bruce, whose face was pale, his mouth twisted with fear. "Do you agree with her?" Damon smiled evilly. Bruce shook his head and whimpered. "Sorry, what was that? I didn't quite hear you." Damon asked, cupping his hand round his ear.

"No. I'll co-operate." Bruce whispered hoarsely.

"What?!" Lydia yelled angrily, struggling to turn and look at him. "How can you give in. They can't do anything if we don't co- operate."

"They'll kill us."

"Cookie? Ha! She doesn't have the guts. Her beliefs won't let her."

"No, but his will." Bruce choked out.

"Coward." She snapped, then addressed Cookie. "You need both of us to co-operate. See how well you manage without my help."

Bruce wailed. "No! You don't understand. /He/ isn't even human. He...he's a vampire, or something like that. He showed what he was when I escaped. He'll kill us to get what he wants. It doesn't bother him. /Please/, do what she says."

"It's up to you." Damon said coldly. "I don't mind either way. Actually, I'd prefer to kill you. That crow you threw the stone at, remember it? That was me. You broke my arm, and I don't like letting people get away with hurting me. So take your pick. Live and have it easy, or die by my hand. Rest assured I /will/ be extracting as much revenge as I possibly can if you choose the latter."

His words sent shivers up and down Cookie's spine. */Please/ co- operate.* She thought. *Mother of All, please let them choose to co- operate.* The killing was partly a bluff. She didn't want to do it in the circle. The negativity would make things go badly for them, and the spirit would feed from it. It was a danger that would greatly reduce their chances of success.

"Lydia, we have no choice." Bruce insisted.

"Alright. Fine. I'll co-operate." Lydia hung her head and stared fixedly on a patch of carpet.

"You mean that?" Damon queried, menacingly.

"Yes." She replied sullenly, but a note in her voice said she was telling the truth.

"Good." Cookie breathed a sigh of relief. "Now, I want you to do exactly as I say. I want you to close your eyes, and breath slowly and deeply. Feel your bodies relaxing, the waking world drifting away. I want you to hear my voice. You're floating inside yourselves, relaxed, unafraid. You're floating towards a bright light, and in that light is a safe place, a place where you feel calm, a sanctuary from hurts and evils. You're floating into that place now. Picture it in your minds, every detail, every sight, sound and smell. Draw yourselves into this place, become one with this place." Cookie's voice was soft and soothing. She'd done visualisation work like this before with friends, but never for anything as serious or important as this. She didn't even know it if it would work. She left them in silence for a good few minutes, letting them explore. She hoped they were following what she was saying, and not bluffing. "You should be feeling relaxed and peaceful. You should be feeling safe in your sanctuaries.

"The light is still surrounding you, protecting you. If you reach out, you can feel it's power. Gather it into yourselves, draw it close, as close as you can. As much as you can, and when I am ready, push the light outwards from yourselves, forcing the darkness away, forcing it out from yourselves." She paused and licked her lips, then looked over to Damon, and froze. His eyes were narrowed, his body tense, ready to fight. *He shouldn't be doing that. Something's wrong.* She opened up her own senses further, and fear welled up inside her. Dark Power was welling from within her cousins, a tsunami gathering in strength, and it was aimed at her. But not from her cousins. The thing was leaving of it's own accord, not waiting to be trapped by her. She could see it now. A dark, red mass, laced was blackness, laced with evil. *Oh Great Mother and Father.* She panicked. *My dream. This was what my dream was.* She braced herself, gathering her own Powers, preparing to fight. The thing shrieked loudly in rage, and flew straight for her. It never hit. She felt the shields ripping apart at her back as she was propelled out of the circle by a different source of Power.

She hit the floor hard, winded by the figure landing on top of her. She looked into Damon's grim face, and then flinched as the thing exploded through the rest of the shields and roared hotly over them, flying out of the window.

"Need." Damon told her. "You were right. I /had/ to get you out of there. Glad it worked." He gave a small, tight smile, then rushed to the window. Cookie watched as Damon blurred, and the crow flew out of the window, following the loosed evil. Fear for the vampire began to eat away at her heart.

"What the hell happened in here?" A voice behind her demanded. She turned to see Stefan staring at the apartment in shock. She looked at it herself, and gasped in shock. The walls were blackened and charred, as was most of the furniture in the room. The television was a melted mess. *How on Earth did we survive that. We should be /dead/.*

"It went wrong." She muttered thickly in defeat. "What are you doing here? I told you to stay away."

Stefan grimaced. "I couldn't not come. I had to help somehow. Where's Damon?" He asked, glancing round.

"Followed it." She said mutely. Then her eyes widened. *My dream. The Crow and the Falcon.* She thought. *Damon and Stefan....* She spoke out loud, voice cracking with fear. "Stefan, you have to go after him, you have to help him. He'll die without you." Stefan frowned at her. "/Hurry/. I've /seen/ it. You have to help each other, or you'll lose him."

Stefan's eyes widened, and he nodded quickly in understanding. "How long ago?" He asked, heading for the window.

"A few minutes. Hurry. /Please/."

"I will." He whispered. Then his form blurred and wavered before solidifying into it's new shape. Cookie watched in awe and respect as the falcon from her dream soared gracefully, hunting for his brother.

((Good luck.)) She thought after him, praying from her soul that he wouldn't be too late.

~*~

Damon was hurt and frustrated. He'd followed the thing until it seemed to have run out of energy. It had stopped in a meadow and Damon had landed a short distance from it, keeping a wary distance. He'd tried attacking it, only to be repelled back by a painful electric shocks. Besides, the thing wasn't solid. There wasn't much he /could/ do to it. The only option he had was to wait it out, run it till it lost it's energy and died. That was /if/ it could run out of that much energy. His idea was that it wouldn't be able to survive long in this world without a body to host it. At least Damon /hoped/ that was the case, if he remembered Cookie's words.

So Damon circled it, stalked it, herded it away from possible hiding places with his Power. All the time, Cookie's dream was on his mind. He was alone, and fully aware he could die. *Well, so be it.* He thought finally with a fierce passion. *But I swear I'm taking that thing with me when I go.* He grinned savagely, and sent another burst of Power to the thing.

He was rewarded when he started to sense it's panic, it's fear that it was naked and perhaps a little vulnerable. It never occurred to him what it would do when it became desperate. He'd assumed that it needed a living body, a human body. He didn't think that he was in any danger from it. Until the thing rushed him, consumed him, and forced it's way inside. The pain was intense, and Damon fell to the ground, fighting to expel it, and then just fighting to hang on to consciousness. He lost the fight as he felt cool, gentle hands supporting his head, resting it in a lap. He wouldn't die alone, then, he realised.

"Damon?" A worried voice whispered.

*Stefan.* He thought sadly as the blackness claimed him.

~*~

They were alone. Stefan had flown after Damon as fast as possible, senses stretching to their limit to find any sign, fear and desperation boosting his Powers. He'd finally spotted his brother sprawled in a meadow a few miles out of town. The thing was gone, destroyed, Stefan was sure it was. He couldn't feel it anymore, couldn't find a trace of it. Damon had done it, he'd succeeded.

Now it was just him and Damon, alone in the meadow, under the stars. He looked down into his brother's unconscious face, his head cradled in his lap, and the tears spilled over.

"Don't die, Damon." He whispered, stroking the silky rainbow- black hair from his brother's brow. "We've come too far now. We've not had enough time. A year isn't long enough, we've got to put right all those centuries of hatred." No response. "You're stronger than this, you can survive. I've been hurt worse than this, and /I/ survived. You're far more powerful than I am." He pleaded.

But despite his words, despair had a firm grip on his heart. /He/ had survived because of Elena. He'd lived because of her gift of life. But now there was no angel Elena to save them, no ethereal spirit to grant forgiveness and light on his brother. Damon had no one, he realised miserably, heart full of defeat. */But he has you/* the voice deep inside him said. */He has you, he has your love/*.

*But what can I do?* Stefan thought bitterly. *I'm too weak.* Damon's breathing was becoming shallower. It was something inside him killing him, as if he was losing the will to live. *No!* Stefan thought with anguish. */You're not weak/* his inner voice told him, */You're strong. You may not have as much Power, but your spirit is strong, your /love/ is strong. No amount of Power can help him now, but love can. /Your/ love can./*

Stefan's tears were falling onto Damon's face now, and he stared blindly at them. ((Don't leave me.)) He pleaded. ((Don't you dare leave me now.)) His brother looked troubled, sad, his expression mirroring the one he'd worn on the Tuesday night. /Tuesday night/. *Cookie.* He thought, hope rising in him. Cookie had been inside Damon's mind, touched his /soul/. If he could do it, if he could get in...

Stefan reached out blindly for Damon's mind and /pushed/.

~*~

It was black. Not the blackness of night or darkness, this was a pitch black, an evil black. It was an absence of light and life, an absence of love. Stefan knew this wasn't normal. No matter how dark Damon was, /this/ was not him.

A voice hissed through the blackness, seducing, deadly, and evil. *Oh God.* Stefan thought in shock. *It wasn't destroyed, it came /here/. It wants Damon's body.* He mentally gritted his teeth. *There's no way it's taking my brother without a fight.*

"Damon!" He yelled through the blackness. "Damon, answer me!"

/He cannot hear you/. The voice hissed. /He is mine. His will to fight has left him, and so soon will his will to live. Then this body will be mine. His Powers will be mine. I will be reborn./

"/Never/." Stefan spat.

/You can do nothing. You are weak here. I am strong. I will take him./

"No!" Stefan cried out, rushing blindly for the source of the voice, fury coursing through him. He was flung back forcefully, and it hurt. Stefan pushed the pain back, and rushed again, only to be flung back, again.

/See. You can do /nothing/ to harm me./ It laughed. /I am too powerful. You are nothing more than an irritating itch, and it's time I scratched you away./ Stefan could feel it gathering the blackness around it, drawing in the evil, preparing for the kill.

"/Leave him alone!/" The hoarse, screaming voice echoed through the blackness, laced with hatred and fury. Damon. Stefan felt himself surrounded, blinded by light as the evil was unleashed.

His vision cleared to reveal a bubble of light. Damon stood in the small, bright core, a weary, hunted expression on his face. Stefan never thought he would see his brother looking so haggard, so /defeated/. It wasn't like him.

"Why aren't you fighting?" Stefan asked.

"I'm trying." Damon whispered. "But I don't have anything to fight with."

"But you're so strong."

Damon looked at him, midnight eyes filled with sorrow. "And it feeds off that strength. It revels in anger and hatred. It delights in my past, at the evil I'm capable of. It's like fighting fire with fire." Damon shook his head sadly. "And the little love I have is being crushed by my own hatred, at the things I've done. All I have is this." He gestured around him. "All I have is what Rebecca gave me. What I gave Rebecca, and it isn't enough."

"That's not true." Stefan shook his head. The blackness was steadily eating away at the sanctuary of light.

"But it is. I've drawn on all I can. You see it here. There /is/ no more."

"But it is here." Stefan said, a smile lighting his face. "/I'm/ here. I'll always be here for you." He said simply. Damon looked bewildered, vulnerable and lost. But Stefan thought he saw a trace of hope there, too. He held out a hand towards his brother, a gesture of unconditional love, trust and forgiveness. It was a gesture he'd made once before, in the clearing with Elena a little more than a year ago, a year that seemed like an age. Damon regarded the hand for a long moment, and finally a small smile crossed his face.

"I am what I am." He said quietly. "I can't and won't change that."

"I know." Stefan acknowledged just as quietly. "I don't expect you to. I don't expect anything, except for you to trust me."

"I trust you." Damon nodded, taking his brothers hand.

A bright, white light flared from between them, radiating in all directions, banishing the blackness, destroying the evil, healing Damon's pain. The voice shrieked in agony and rage, futily trying to push the light back. Eventually the screaming stopped, and the light dimmed and vanished, it's purpose fulfilled. Darkness fell once again, it's misty tendrils claiming back the parts of Damon's soul that the invading spirit had claimed. But this time, Damon, Prince of Darkness, kept his feelings, his love and his heart unlocked.