She Knew

by WhiteHairedD

Elena and Angela Gilbert were born on June 22nd, 1992 in Mystic Falls, Virginia. But Angela knew. And because she knew, it was easy for her to carve out a purpose for herself in her new life: protect her family (blood-related or otherwise) and prevent as many pointless deaths as possible. One thing she didn't know, however, was just how difficult that would prove to be. [SI-OC OT3]

6. Consume

EDITED 10/06/2020: Realized there was a consistency error regarding the contract. If you've already read this chapter and don't want to re-read it, check the notes at the end so you get caught up to speed.

Eighteen. THOUSAND. Words.

I have poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this chapter. I have made my terrible sleep schedule even worse for this chapter. I feel like I'm on the brink of insanity, oh my god.

Oh, and the SMUT has arrived. It's in between the three circles that look like this: ooo

So much happens in this chapter, good fucking lord, it may as well be a season finale. You better leave some nice reviews, or I stg I will be very mildly upset. (please don't feel obligated to do so, only do what makes you feel comfortable, okay? okay, love you.)

---

CHAPTER 5

CONSUME

.

It was warm in her bed.

The world had felt like a dream ever since the Tanner incident, but she remembered running to the parking lot on the way home. She remembered seeing their car still there, and Elena sitting behind the wheel.

"C-call 911," she'd stammered as soon as she got inside.

"What? Why? What happened?"

She had to take multiple deep breaths before she was able to speak. "Tanner. Dead. Call."

"What? Oh my God…"

She'd glared at her then. She had to get out of there. "Elena. Call 911."

The man who'd taken her call had asked her to stay on the grounds because the police would want to interview her for a witness statement. Elena had nervously gone over to the scene of the crime, and Angela had driven home in a daze.

"Welcome back!" Jenna had been reading something. "Hey… is everything okay?"

She hadn't been able to make herself smile, but said that everything was fine. Whether or not she'd believed her, she didn't really care. All she cared about was that she'd left her alone since then.

She hugged the notebook containing the information about the Gilbert case closer to her chest. There was not a single doubt in her mind that Damon was capable of killing her parents. But how would he even get in? They were always careful with their word choice. "It's this way," or "Welcome," and a gesture towards the inside of the house. They'd never once, in all the time that Angela had been old enough to understand what they were saying, uttered the words "come in."

When she sighed, her chest felt heavy. She was so, so tired. She wanted to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Damon ripping Tanner's throat out. It was the first dead body she'd seen since her parents had been murdered, and he'd gone the exact same way they had. Though, granted, his body hadn't been as absolutely brutalized as her father's had.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about them. She hadn't felt this lost in a good long while.

There was a knock at the door, and her eyes flew open. She sat up so quick she made herself dizzy. "Who is it?"

She realized who it was before he could get halfway through tapping out his name. She scrambled out from under her duvet but kept the notebook hidden. She patted her face a few times to look more alive and, as cheerily as she could, called "Come in!"

The door opened and Jeremy's sweet little face poked in. He had a large, hard-cover book in his hands.

"Is that… a biology textbook?"

He nodded and sat down next to her. He'd written something on a sticky note and handed it to her to read, but she shot him a look.

"If you want to say something, sign it. I know you can."

He looked at her with a severely unimpressed expression, but she simply raised her eyebrows to signal that she was waiting. Finally, he grudgingly signed "Help me study," and she clapped in praise.

"See? You did it!"

He rolled his eyes with a bashful smile. She slid the open book into her lap and stared at it until she became confused. "Plant structure? This is way ahead of what you're being taught in class."

His eyebrows furrowed in thought before he signed "Read ahead. Be a doctor, like Dad." That made her breath catch in her throat.

"I want to."

He nodded and repeated the hand motions. "I want to be a doctor, like Dad."

She couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair. "That's wonderful, Jeremy."

He smiled and rolled his eyes again. "Don't cry."

"Right," she gave a wet chuckle, "sorry, it's just… it's been a rough day. Anyway," she tapped the textbook with a grin, "let's get started, okay?"

Consequences be damned, she wouldn't trade her brother for the world.

.

Spending time with Jeremy helped calm her down enough to where she was able to eat a quick meal, and she had just put her plate in the sink when she heard Jenna's slipper-clad feet rapidly approaching her. Looking over her shoulder, she could see her holding her cell phone in distress.

"I just got off the phone with the Sheriff." Ah, shit.

Angela waited for her to continue talking, and when she didn't, she turned to face her. "How come?"

The way she was looking at her was almost accusatory. "Mr. Tanner was killed by an animal."

"…Oh."

"Oh?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Angie, why didn't you tell me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Wha- Oh, I don't know. You come in the house looking like you saw a ghost, you barely speak to me, you lock yourself in your room for hours, and now I get a phone call saying that your sister's been at the station this whole time giving a witness statement?"

This whole time? It shouldn't have taken that long, should it? "What, are you accusing me of killing him?"

She made an exasperated noise. "No, of course not!" She drew close and pulled her into a hug. "You saw a dead body. That's traumatic enough on its own, but even more so for you. We could've dealt with it together instead of you having to deal with it alone."

She clenched her jaw in an effort not to cry. "People die all the time. I need to get used to it."

Jenna pulled back to look at her with a worried expression. "Yeah, they do. But most people have never seen someone that's been killed before, and you've already seen three."

She couldn't help but let out a wry chuckle. Three is nothing in the world me and Elena were born in. How the hell is she meant to understand that? Angela had considered running away from it all, once. She'd considered making something up about how she hated it in Mystic Falls and packing a bag in the night just so she could have some kind of shot at a normal life.

That idea was swiftly shot down. She couldn't stand the thought of Elena and Jeremy beginning to hate her when she didn't show up to their parents' funeral. She couldn't stand the thought of Aunt Jenna dying and Bonnie having so much taken away from her because of her own selflessness. And of course, even if she managed to live with herself after all of that, knowing that Klaus would inevitably hunt her down to ensure she continued the doppelgänger line left her with little choice but to either end her own life or try and become an inferior version of Katherine.

Jenna's lips thinned into a line. "Look, if you want, Dr. Gills is excellent at what he does."Angela shook her head. He couldn't help her unless she compelled him. "If you'd feel uncomfortable talking to a stranger, I'm here too, but I was always gonna go into research rather than actually talking to people."

"No, Aunt Jenna, it's okay." She gave a smile and pointed to it. "See? Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Worry about Jeremy instead. Do you know he wants to be a doctor?"

Her eyes widened. "What, really?"

She nodded. "He came into my room with this big old biology textbook he's almost halfway through and asked me to study with him."

A hopeful smile was forming on her face. "Oh my God…Where is that little punk?"

"In his room, I'm pretty sure."

Jenna's head turned at the sound of keys jingling outside the front door. Dammit. I'd almost distracted her. A few seconds later Elena came in, looking exhausted, and Jenna hugged her wordlessly. She sighed and hugged her back, but her eyes were empty.

"We don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to," Jenna gently muttered, "but know that I'm always here, okay?"

Elena closed her eyes and nodded into her shoulder. "Okay."

Jenna slowly pulled back to look at Angela. "That goes for all three of you. You kids are all I have left."

Her heart ached at that. "We love you, Aunt Jenna."

"I love you, too. Now, unless either of you feel like talking, I'm gonna go check up on your brother."

Elena smiled. "Go ahead. I'd like to spend some time with Angie."

Giving a nod, Jenna soon disappeared up the stairs. Elena was quiet until they heard Jeremy's door open and shut. Then, her gaze fell on Angela. "Was it Damon?"

Wow, cutting right to the chase, huh? "Yes."

Elena swung her bag off her shoulder and dropped it carelessly on her way to the couch. She sat with a sigh, and Angela tentatively walked closer.

"How come you were at the station for so long?" Angela asked. "It shouldn't take that long to give a witness statement, should it?"

She huffed. "Not unless the sheriff knows you know about vampires." Oh. Right. Speaking of…

"Did you," she glanced off to the side, "you know?"

"What, tell her about them?" She shook her head. "I didn't wanna put anyone at risk."

She felt a bit of weight lift off her shoulders and sat down next to her sister. Elena grabbed her hand immediately. Her voice was small when she spoke. "Is that what Dad looked like? All… bloody and mauled?"

Angela furrowed her eyebrows as she thought of how to word it. "Worse."

"How much worse?"

"Lena, you don't wanna talk about this right now."

"Yes, I do." She looked determined. "I'm a Gilbert, right? We know about vampires. We hunt vampires. I need to know what I'm gonna be up against if I want to continue the legacy."

"The legacy?" She looked at her in disbelief. "Our lives don't have some predetermined destiny we need to follow. I'm actively working against destiny, in case you haven't noticed."

"I know. I know, but this is something I want to do."

She wasn't sure she liked this. She wasn't sure she liked it at all. "So, what, are you gonna go all Buffy on us now?"

She chuckled. "Please, there's no way I'll ever be as cool as Buffy. But yeah, I guess; in essence. I can't just sit back and do nothing, knowing all I know."

"Elena, are you actually serious about this? Think about what it means. You're not just gonna have to hurt people. You're gonna have to kill people. People who probably love people. People who probably have family. Or else you're gonna die."

She threw her hands up in the air. "What other choice do I have, Angie? It's not just now that I'm thinking about it. It's been on my mind since June, but Tanner was the breaking point, and I don't think I'll be able to live with myself if I don't do something. Which is something you of all people should understand." She sighed and leaned back, further into the dark brown leather. "You have foreknowledge. Let me have this."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. There's no changing her mind, is there? "Well… I suppose there are worse destinies."

Elena looked over at her with a gentle smile. "Yeah, I suppose there are." She seemed to remember something. "Tyler called. Said he tried to call you first but you weren't picking up."

Angela sucked air in through her teeth. "Ah, yeah, I might've… hid my phone in my bag so I could have my breakdown in peace."

She shook her head with a huff. "Man, today sucked, didn't it? And it's not even over yet."

"I'm trying not to think about it too much."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

She shot her a look. "Lena, we've talked about this. The best thing you can do is stay right here, at home, and guard Jeremy. Bonnie's dad wanted her home, you said?"

"Yeah. He didn't like how much time she was spending with the crazy," she wiggled her fingers, "side of the family."

She stood with a snort. Humans. "Of course he didn't. I should call Tyler back. Did he say what he wanted?"

"His mom told him that Mr. Tanner died and that I was a witness, so he assumed you knew as well." She eyed her knowingly. "You know… it's kinda weird that he didn't call to comfort me. Considering I'm the one who actually went down to the station."

Angela shrugged. "He's more used to getting emotional with me. It's not that weird."

"Uh-huh…"

She raised a brow. "Are you implying something?"

Elena shook her head with a smile that looked almost smug. "Nope. Nothing at all. Go call him," she got up, "I'm gonna go find the source of that delicious smell and eat until I feel like I'm giving birth."

"Sounds good."

.

Angela could hear Jenna talking to Jeremy in his room, but the sound was too muffled for her to make out anything that was being said. She shut her door, grabbed her bag, and sat down on her bed with a tired exhale.

Two missed calls from Tyler. Great. Well, at least they're not from Caroline. Angela dialed his number and brought the phone up against her ear. He picked up almost immediately.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Considering he was killed right in front of me? I'm doing as okay as can be expected."

She heard him curse beneath his breath. "You have really bad luck with vampires, Angie." He didn't say it outright, but she'd known him long enough to know what was left unsaid: "Considering how many people they've murdered around you."

She lied down so her legs were hanging off the bed. "Let's talk about something else, okay? I was just beginning to feel better."

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Is there anything I can do to help you with tonight?"

She moaned in displeasure. "God, not you, too. I've already got Elena asking me every five seconds and I finally managed to get Bonnie and Caroline to stop."

He changed his tactic. "Hey, I just miss hanging out with you. How else am I supposed to pass the time?"

She raised a brow even though he couldn't see her. "You could always do your homework."

He groaned. "I'd rather just do nothing."

She laughed then, for the first time since Tanner's death. "I'm sure you'll figure something out." Her smile gentled. "Thanks for calling, by the way. You're always there when I need you."

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "You're always there for me, too. I'd be a pretty shitty best friend if I didn't return the favor."

"Thought you said the term best friend lost meaning three friends ago."

"Yeah, well," his voice turned soft, "you were the first friend I ever made. It still has meaning for you."

Her breath hitched. "Dammit, Ty," she huffed, "don't get all mushy on me now. I've been trying not to cry all day."

She heard him chuckle. "Maybe it's time to finally let it out."

She shook her head and wiped away the tears that were building up in her eyes. "No. Not yet. If I cry now, I won't be able to get through tonight."

"Well, promise me you will at some point. I remember you saying that if you ignore sadness it becomes anger a lot of the time, and the last thing I need is another me running around."

That made her laugh again. "Hey, I wouldn't mind another you. But… alright. I promise."

"Good. And even if it happens at four in the morning, if you need someone to help you through it, call me and I'll be there."

God, what the hell would I do without him? She nodded. "I will. Thank you, Ty. You're a really good best friend."

He chuckled. "You're a really good best friend, too." There was the sound of a chair squeaking before he sighed. "I should get going. My mom needs me to help with the Founder's thing."

"Alright. See you later?"

"See you later, A-game."

.

Her cell phone rang before she could exit the house.

After the call with Tyler and assuring Elena that she would be alright yet again, she felt almost prepared for what was to come. Glancing down revealed the caller to be Anna. She stepped outside and hit Accept.

"Hey, is everything alright?"

There was a beat of silence before Anna's calm, young-sounding voice came through. "Just making sure you're still up for this. I've come too far to not get her out of there."

She raised a brow as she made her way over to the car. "Absolutely, I'm up for it." She unlocked and opened the door. "I'm on my way right now."

"Good. I'll see you there."

"W-wait!"

"Yes?"

"I just remembered today," she said as she sat down. "Wasn't there a young black man that was a family friend or something? He's in there too, isn't he?"

"Harper," she breathed. "You're right. He was always loyal to Mother. She'd want me to save him."

"Right, that was his name. Okay, well… see you soon."

"Drive safe." And with that, she hung up. She wanted to ask her how she knew she would be driving, but then she remembered that vampires had super hearing. She must've heard her enter the car.

She'd just turned the key in the ignition when her phone dinged with a message. Well, I'm awful popular today, aren't I?

Sheila: I'm there.

She texted back a quick "OMW" and snorted at her response of "What does that mean?" She might be the oldest living witch of an incredibly powerful line, but she was still a fifty-three-year-old in 2009. She pressed her foot against the gas and hoped to all that was good that she'd still be the oldest living Bennett witch tomorrow.

.

She had to park quite a ways away, at a dead end, since there wasn't sufficient room for a car to enter the forest. After a bit of walking, she could finally see the tomb. A vigilant-looking Sheila was standing in front of it with a gasoline tank by her feet, destined for the vampires they wouldn't be saving.

Sheila pet her hair as a greeting. "I hope you didn't forget to bring the talisman."

She gestured towards her bag. "I checked four times. It's in there."

"Good. You'd never hear the end of it otherwise."

"Oh, but I love the sound of your voice, Ms. Sheila. Your lectures are a reward in and of themselves."

She rolled her eyes and Angela felt a gust of wind flick her forehead. "Watch that mouth of yours. Now, did anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Well… My history teacher was killed."

Sheila's eyes sharpened. "Killed? By what?"

Dammit, I shouldn't have said that. She wanted this to go as smoothly as possible."An animal."

Sheila raised a disbelieving brow but didn't push the subject further.

It was precisely eight o'clock when she spotted Anna in the distance. And so it begins. She was grateful that a familiar figure like Sheila was there. Am I becoming too dependent on her? Probably.

"Hey," Angela said in as confused a manner as she could muster, knowing that Anna could hear her.

She apparently took that as permission to approach, as in a breath she was right in front of them. "Hey-" she choked, and Angela turned to see Sheila's eyes narrowed menacingly.

"Who is this?" she demanded, but Angela could see the tiny smirk on her lips. She's enjoying this, the crazy old hag.

"Sheila, don't! She's a friend."

She looked at her in what would've been severe apprehension if the glint in her eyes was one of distrust instead of humor. After a moment she sighed, and Anna stopped clutching her head. If looks could kill, Sheila would have died then and there.

"Thanks," Anna barked.

"Sorry about that," Angela gave an awkward smile, "but she wasn't expecting you. And neither was I, actually. Are you here to make sure Katherine gets out safe?"

"Excuse me," Sheila interrupted them, "but I repeat: who is this?"

"The person who made me come to you about the talisman in the first place. What is your name, anyway?"

"My name is-"

"Annabelle." Angela turned to look at the source of the voice, and found a very sour-looking Damon walking towards them. He'd changed out of the shirt he'd been wearing when he attacked Tanner, although… "You've got to be kidding me. You're A?"

"Damon," Anna deadpanned. "I see age hasn't made you any more charming."

"Is that blood?" Angela asked in shock. The cuff of his sleeve was darker than the rest.

He shot her a sarcastic smile. "Yeah, some of your teacher's guts transferred over." God-fucking-dammit, Damon.

"What?" Sheila exclaimed, but then she sneered at him. "I had a sneaking suspicion. You're deplorable."

He narrowed his eyes and took a menacing step closer.

"Alright, alright," Angela moved between them, "enough. Look, we all have a common goal here. We want to open the tomb."

"Yeah, speaking of," Damon nodded towards Anna, "how come you want Katherine out so bad?"

She sighed. "I don't."

"What?"

What? Why is she telling him that?

"I said I don't. My mother is in there, and a friend of hers. It's them I want to get out. But Angela's right. We all have a common goal. You can get Katherine back and I can get my family."

"And I can do what Emily wanted," Sheila added, though Angela knew that she cared far more about her granddaughter than she did an ancestor who had been a vampire sympathizer. She was just glad she saw Bonnie's need for a mentor enough to go through with this.

Damon's eyes were filled with distrust, but he let out a sharp sigh. "Fine." He stuck a hand out, palm up, towards Angela. "Let's just get this over with."

He knows I have the talisman. How long had he been listening? She didn't see much point in asking him and dug the box out of her bag. She didn't have any time to unlock it, however, as Damon immediately snatched it away from her.

She glared at him. "Hey, you ass, it won't work unless-" He swung it open like it was nothing.

Wait, what?

She saw Sheila move, ready to strike him down if he tried anything. "How did you to do that?" she hissed.

He raised a brow. "What are you talking about?"

"T-the box," Angela stammered. "It could only be opened by me, in case someone tried to steal it. How the hell did you do that?"

"Uh… with my hands, I think."

Sheila glared. "Now's not the time to be funny, vampire."

"Seriously, I have no idea what you mean." He seemed oddly sincere, Angela thought, to be lying about this. But if he's telling the truth, then how the hell did he manage to open it? It's like there was no magic on there at all.

And then her eyes widened in realization.

.

"I'd like to ask you something," Sheila said one summer afternoon. She'd invited her over for some hummingbird cake that had been made by one kind Mrs. Davis.

Angela licked the frosting off her fork. The sound of the wind chimes Bonnie had set up made for a calm kind of ambience, though it was just a bit too hot for her to be happy about sitting outside.

"How did I die?" That made her freeze. Sheila chuckled at her expression. "Oh, don't be surprised. Like you wouldn't want to know."

She furrowed her brows and set her fork down. "Are you sure? Sometimes we think we want to know something but we don't."

"If I knew, would I be able to prevent it from happening?"

"Well… yeah, I guess so. It might help, actually."

She nodded. "Then I want to know."

Angela sighed in resignation. "At some point, I'm going to ask you for help with opening a tomb. If you agree, there's a big chance we can prevent your death. Of course," she chuckled, "you'd just ask to get rid of the people who want to open the tomb in the first place, but… that's not an option in my mind."

Sheila raised a brow. "That doesn't tell me how I died."

"Well, if you'd let me finish…" Sheila raised her hands defensively, but she could see the laughter playing on the edge of her lips. Angela rolled her eyes fondly. "You used too much magic all at once. They didn't manage to open the tomb the way they were meant to, so you had to overexert yourself to make it happen. But with our help, they'd have a better chance at doing it right."

She leaned back in the wicker chair and let out a breath. "Magic overuse, huh? Well, that's pretty pathetic."

Angela blinked in surprise. "Pathetic?"

She huffed a laugh. "I'd be the first Bennett in history to die from being bad at what Bennetts do best: magic."

"The first? But there have been so many of you."

"One almost did, but she found a way to survive. Bridget, her name was. We're all connected, you know, us Bennetts. Our magic recognizes its kin. She instinctively consumed her daughter's magic, killing her and saving herself."

"Well, shit-"

"Language."

She shot her a playful stink-eye. "Darn. That must've sucked."

"It was a good thing ultimately, for her descendants. It's helped us not make the same mistake."

"Wait, so," she straightened in her seat, "does that mean you guys are, like, semi-siphoners or something?"

Sheila sneered. "Don't ever say that again. No, we can only do it as a last resort."

"Huh…"

"What," her lips quirked up, "did your television show never tell you that?"

She shook her head. "I… guess it just never came up. Bonnie was pretty much the only Bennett witch throughout the show, and as far as I remember, she never overused her magic like that." A thought came to her. "Wait, so, would it work the other way around?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like… say I'm a dead Bennett witch. Would I be able to consume your magic and use it to power myself? Since I'm not alive and well, would that ability work?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I've never thought about that before. Ah, but that probably tells you something about it." She gathered a bit of cake and brought it up to her lips. "Must've been no one's been desperate enough to try. Yet."

.

"Emily," she breathed. "She consumed your magic." God, and since it wasn't directly from the source and from a spelled object, Sheila's still alive.

Sheila's face went slack. "The magic I put on the box."

"An abomination," came a feminine voice, "but clever."

Emily, for lack of a better word, looked terrifying. Her limbs were either too long or too short, and much, much too thin. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and parts of her that were gone completely. There was no nose on her face, nor did her eyes have any eyelids. There was no hair on her head, no shoes or accessories, and her dress was enough to preserve her modesty but not enough to be elegant.

"Emily?" Damon asked, clearly perturbed. "You look… different."

She smiled, and something about it was entirely inhuman; entirely wrong."Hello, Damon. It's been quite some time." Her voice was thin, like she hadn't used it since she'd died.

"Emily," Sheila grabbed her attention. "Please, don't try to stop us."

Emily frowned and Angela realized what was so wrong. Where there should have been lips there was nothing; only flat skin. "I won't try. I will stop you."

"I thought you wanted this," Damon motioned towards the tomb. "We made a deal."

She shook her head. "Things have changed. I need to protect my family." She looked at Sheila with disapproval in her lidless eyes. "Even if they refuse to protect themselves."

"You don't understand," Angela's voice came out shaky. "If you don't let us do this then Sheila will die. Bonnie will be lost. You won't be protecting your family, you'll be damning it."

When she looked at her, she seemed overwhelmed by disgust. "I beg to differ," her thin voice hissed. "I think that if I don't let you do this, Sheila will finally come to her senses, take Bonnie, and get out of this cursed town." She turned to address her descendent. "We can kill them. I used most of your magic to bring my essence through rather than form my body. Say yes and I'll spare both you and the parasite."

"No, you won't!" Angela was beginning to panic proper now. "Sheila made a contract. If I don't give Damon your talisman I'll die!"

"Yeah," said Damon, eyes tight, and she silently thanked him for not questioning anything they were saying. "Would you be okay with killing an innocent human?"

"It is not innocent. Nor is it human. And I'd be all too happy to exterminate it."

"Enough." Sheila's tone left no room for discussion. "Bonnie is my family, and Angela is her family. So, with all due respect, I think that I know my own granddaughter well enough to say that taking her away from her family would destroy her."

Emily deflated. "That's a no, then?"

She could see Sheila's nostrils flare in what might've been either anger or well-masked fright. "That's a no."

At that moment, a blur rushed towards Emily's distorted form, but she raised an arm and it was flung against a tree. Anna. She must've snuck behind her while we were talking. She hit the ground with a pained hiss.

Emily looked heartbroken. "They'll punish you for this, Sheila. Please. Please, say yes and we can forget you ever defied me."

Sheila's jaw ticked and she closed her eyes. When she opened them, Angela could have sworn they were made of fire. "I serve Nature. And the way I see it, refusing to help keep Her creatures alive would be defiance immeasurable.

Emily sighed. She gave one final, sad smile before the box was thrown out of Damon's hand and into her own.

Angela lurched forward. "No!" She felt a force hit her, but she barely had time to register it before her mind went blank.

Her mouth opened instinctively. To gasp for air or to scream, she couldn't know, but she became all too aware of the fact that her back and head were made of meat. They were made of meat that had been tenderized by a mallet, and when she tried to breathe, the mallet hit again. The pain was intense and crushing, and then something moved her poor, tenderized, made-of-meat head, and she couldn't stop the cry that tore from her throat.

"Hey, hey, easy." Somewhere, her brain recognized Anna's voice. Her blurred vision made out a bright, orange light materializing, and then she felt something warm and wet on her tongue. It tasted like copper as it slid down her throat. Blood, she realized as she tried not to choke on her sobs. The time it took for her to heal must not have been very long, but it felt like an eternity in her position.

Her vision was back to normal when she heard Anna say "Shit, that must've hurt, huh?" When the mhm she made in response didn't make the mallet hit her again, she deemed it safe to pull away from her wrist and try to sit up. She ached a bit, but it was far from the blinding pain she had felt when she'd hit the hard, rough tree trunk.

She could see now that the orange light had been a flame that surrounded Emily; so bright she couldn't see through it. Sheila seemed to be concentrating on something, but she was beginning to get frustrated. She could see Damon looking up and far away, his eyes trained on something beyond her line of sight.

She gently turned her head towards Anna. "Thank you."

Anna huffed and helped her stand up. "You're the one keeping this whole thing from falling apart. Wouldn't do to let you die."

She ignored how nice the sentiment made her feel. "Speaking of this whole thing falling apart," she said, "is there anything my human self can do to help?"

Anna's lips thinned into a line. "Hide." She flashed away before she could open her mouth to respond. Great. Angela decided to take her advice and moved behind the tree she'd hit.

"I can't hurt her," Sheila called out, "she's already dead. I can't even move her."

"Don't worry about it," Damon said, and Angela thought she saw something black moving through the trees.

She was struck by a thought. "Sheila! Make her use up her magic! If she can't form a body, she can't stay here!" Sheila seemed to listen to her, as she went from only glaring at the fire to muttering something inaudible.

She could see the black thing clearly now, and made it out to be a bird. More specifically, a crow. That's right! The show removed Damon's weird abilities later on, but it's not like you can do that in real life. You either have them or you don't. The bird flew above where she imagined Emily to be and dove down into the circle of fire.

Angela felt something small hit her head. She reached a hand up to pick it off, assuming it was only a twig from above her, but found nothing there. Something small hit her shoulder. She looked down, and it took her a minute to understand what was happening. Water. She looked at Sheila. She's making it rain. If Emily has to fight to keep the flames up, she'll exhaust her magical resources quicker.

The crow hadn't come out yet. She saw Damon grimace. "You still alive in there?" he asked awkwardly. The crow was thrown, charred and unmoving, through the fire, and Angela felt a stab of guilt at the sight. Poor thing.

"What the hell was that meant to do?" Anna was pacing back and forth, seemingly waiting for some sort of opening.

Damon glared at her. "It was meant to steal the necklace from her. What plan did you bring to the table other than standing around and doing nothing?"

Anna glared right back and reached to grab a large branch that had fallen down from one of the trees. She only took her eyes off of him for a split second, and that was when she looked at the fire. She aimed the branch and threw it where Angela imagined Emily to be.

There was a sound like something clattering to the ground, and Angela thought she heard an exclamation. Did she knock it out of her hand? She looked to Anna. "Did you knock it out of her hand?"

Anna looked pleased with herself. "I may not be able to see her, but I can hear her moving around. Should buy us a bit of time." Her hair was beginning to get matted to the sides of her face, and Angela felt a shiver wrack her spine. A rainy September night in Virginia did not make for extreme warmth.

It was odd, to see and feel the rain – which now looked like the beginning of a storm – and yet to see the fire still going strong.

"Do that again!" Sheila yelled. "You caught her by surprise. I felt her hold on the flames weaken."

Anna and Damon shared a quick glance before the both of them started picking branches up from the ground.

"Ugh," Anna grunted when Damon's shot missed, "no, watch me first and then aim where I'm aiming. Baby vamps, I swear to God…"

Damon sucked air in through his teeth. "Yeahhh, I don't think the chick that had to make a human do her dirty work has any right to criticize me." He viciously broke a branch off a tree.

Anna narrowed her eyes and nodded towards the jagged piece of wood he held in his hand. "Follow my lead or that'll end up in your heart."

Angela had never felt more useless in her entire life. Well no, actually, she had. She'd felt utterly useless, completely meaningless, when her parents had been killed. But now, as she watched four strong supernatural creatures fighting out in the open while she cowered in the shadows, she almost wanted to come out and try to do something in an effort to soothe her pride. It would be stupid though, she knew, and it was a good thing she did, because if she didn't she might not have realized something.

Anna's right. It's wood. They're throwing wood at someone who can throw it right back at them.

"Guys, stop!"

Damon turned his head to look at her, bewildered. "What? Why?"

She sighed in frustration. She didn't want Emily to hear her; she likely hadn't realized it yet herself. She recalled the phone call from earlier and how Anna had known about the car. She tapped her ear and muttered as low as she could. "You're throwing stakes at a witch."

That made Anna freeze immediately after having thrown a branch. Angela saw more than heard her say "shit" as she turned to look at Damon. "We should hide- ah!" The branch had come flying back and pierced her side.

Fuck, she figured it out. The weapon wasn't quite enough to immobilize Anna however, as in a flash she was hidden behind a tree. Angela looked back to see that Damon had disappeared as well, though she couldn't see exactly where. The squelch and clatter that Anna ripping the branch out of her body and dropping it onto the ground created was almost enough to make her gag.

The flames had grown a bit weaker thanks to the continuous onslaught of rain, and she could see Emily's head, but it still didn't look to be enough. She cursed beneath her breath. "Sheila," she called out, though she didn't quite know why. What can I say? "Mind doing all the lifting?" "Are you gonna die?" "Have you used up all your magic yet?" Her eyes went wide and she swung out from behind the tree. Have you used up all your magic yet."Sheila! Can you steal your magic back?"

She saw her give a grin, toothy and wild. She looked a mess, with her light brown coils heavy and sticking against her skin from the rain, her breathing haggard, and her body shaking with the effort it took to keep herself standing. "That's what I've been working on, baby."

With a twist of the hand, Sheila threw her head back and gasped as her eyes went wide. Angela heard a terrible shriek, and she turned to see what she could see of Emily thrashing wildly. She'd brought her hands up to press against her temples and looked to be in such terrible pain that, at that moment, she felt genuinely sorry for her. She'd only ever done what she thought was best for her family, after all, and that was something Angela could more than understand.

As Emily slowly flickered out of existence, so too did the flames calm and fall, until the only evidence of them ever having been there were the marks of charred earth they left behind.

Sheila collapsed.

Shit! Angela ran forward and almost slipped over a patch of mud, but she managed to make it to her side. The first thing she did was try to check her pulse, but her fingers were shaking too much and their skin was too wet for her to make out any results.

"She's alive," said Damon, who had now become visible, "barely." She gave a sigh of relief that was half a sob. It would've all been for nothing.

She heard Anna come closer. "Do you want me to heal her?"

Angela glanced over to see her looking almost concerned, though she couldn't tell if it was due to her being unsure if she could open the tomb without a Bennett witch or if she genuinely cared. She was holding the box. Angela shook her head. "No. I don't think she'd appreciate that."

Anna nodded, and the droplets of water that hung on the ends of her hair fell down to her jacket. "Okay."

Angela looked up at the sky. It was still raining, but it was more of a drizzle; nothing like the raging storm that Sheila had created. "I should get her somewhere warm and dry before she gets pneumonia."

"I can get her to your car real quick," Anna suggested, and she looked at her in surprise. Anna rolled her eyes. "What? She's a valuable ally."

She looked at her skeptically. Maybe she does care a little bit. "Uh huh… But if you leave, who's gonna keep this one," she gestured towards Damon, "from eating me?"

He gave a quiet, drawn-out gasp. "Angela, I am offended. After everything that we've been through, this is how you treat me? Like I'm gonna kill you?" He glanced up and to the left. "Eh, actually, you know what? That might be a good idea."

She rolled her eyes and dug her keys out from her bag. "I've got a couple rolls of paper towels in the trunk. Should help you dry her off at least a little bit. Come back if you hear me scream."

"You got it."

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Damon moved so his hand was blocking the keys. "We're just gonna let her run off with the car, the witch, and the necklace? No way." He made a gimme motion towards Anna. "Hand over the box."

Anna looked at Angela with a severely unimpressed expression on her face before she rolled her eyes and gave it to her instead of him. "There." She shot Damon a sarcastic smile. "Can I go now?" Angela briefly opened it to make sure that the talisman was, in fact, inside.

He matched her expression perfectly. "Be my guest."

As soon as Anna and Sheila were out of sight, the resentment Angela had been feeling for Damon ever since the Tanner incident set in, and she became as silent as a grave.

She could see him looking at her from the corner of her eye, as if prompting her to say something. Finally, he groaned. "Seriously? Nothing? After all that?"

She glared at the air in front of her, not moving her body an inch. "I have nothing to say to you."

He scoffed. "Oh, come on, you're not still upset about that coach, are you?"

She clenched her jaw. "His name was William Tanner. And he was an innocent man who I'd just resolved to protect a couple hours before you murdered him, so yes, actually, I am still upset."

"Yeah, well, didn't do a very good job at protecting him, did you?" That was when she turned to face him, in indignation. "Ah! She looks at me! Is that what it takes, then? I have to make you angry?" His tone turned mockingly upset. "We can't just have a mature conversation like two civilized adults?"

She blew air out her nose. "A: I don't think you're actually capable of being either mature or civilized, and B: I'm not an adult, so… no, I don't think we can."

He tilted his head. "You know, since we're on the topic of what you are… What the hell did Emily mean when she called you a parasite?"

She swallowed. She'd almost forgotten about that. "I have no idea."

He looked at her flatly. "Yes, you do. Look at you," he gestured, "you're all… fidgety. Your composure's been cracked today; you can't lie properly. Spit it out."

"Last time I tried to tell you, you almost killed me."

He looked as though he was trying really hard to remember. "You're gonna have to be a biiit more specific."

She pursed her lips. Should I tell him? What's the worst thing that could happen? He could sell me out to a witch who would kill me. Judging by how Emily reacted to my presence and what Sheila said about me supposedly being a devil, they're not likely to be my biggest fans. He could use me as currency to get the witch to do something. What else? Her train of thought was interrupted when Anna materialized in front of them. She felt strangely proud about the fact that she didn't jump.

"Hey," she greeted, "is Sheila safe?"

Anna nodded. "I put all those paper towels between her clothes and skin and turned the heat up. I couldn't exactly change her clothes."

"That'll have to do," she sighed. "This shouldn't take too long anyway, should it? Oh, speaking of…" She opened the box and handed the talisman to Damon. "There. Now I won't die."

He shot her a sardonic grin. "And I still get to die if I don't follow your rules. Goody."

She rolled her eyes and faced Anna. "I know you swore to bring your mother back with Gilbert blood. If you still want that, be my guest. I even brought an empty jar."

That visibly surprised her. She moved her mouth silently before her voice broke through. "You don't have to. You've already done a lot."

She gave a gentle smile. "I don't mind."

"Well… if you're sure."

Angela took the jar out of her bag and Anna used one of her black, manicured nails to cut her forearm. Although she was nearly certain she would never feel as much agony as she'd felt slamming into that tree, she still had to do her best to distract herself from the pain. Once she'd shed enough blood, Anna was kind enough to heal her a second time.

"Right," Angela sighed. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

"Yeah," Damon turned to face the tomb, "let's do that."

"Wait," Anna flashed in front of him. "Who says you get to open the tomb?"

She could see that he was beginning to get impatient. "What does it matter who opens it?"

"Exactly," she crossed her arms, "so let me do it."

"No." He turned to look at Angela. "She listens to you for whatever reason. Tell her she's being unreasonable."

Angela rubbed her temples. Sheila's current predicament was far from ideal, and she wanted to get her home as soon as she could. "The deal I made with Damon was to give him the talisman, so it only makes sense that he would be the one to open it. Speaking of, how the hell do you open it? Do you just press the talisman against the door or whatever?"

"That's what Emily told me," he responded as they started walking towards the entrance. "And you better hope she was telling the truth, because if she wasn't, one of you is dying tonight."

"Bold of you to assume I'd let that happen," Anna murmured.

He smirked lasciviously. "Oh, I'm very bold." Something collided with him, and then he was ten feet away, on the ground. No. Not something. Someone. And when he rolled off of him and quickly stood up, talisman now in his hand, Angela could see who it was.

"Oh," Damon groaned as he languidly got back on his feet, "you have got to be kidding me."

A haggard-looking Stefan shook his head, and Angela could see that his chest was bloody. "I'm not letting you free her, Damon."

Today's just full of surprises, isn't it? "What are you doing here?"

Stefan turned to look at her, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Seems he didn't know I was here. Damon rolled his eyes. "Thought stabbing your liver and snapping your neck would've gotten the message across, Stef." Angela glanced at Damon's sleeve. So not Tanner's blood, then. Stefan's. She shared a glance with Anna.

"Damon, please," Stefan looked desperate to change his mind, "don't you remember anything? What, you think that if you get Katherine out of there she'll suddenly love you? She never loved you. She never loved anyone but herself."

Damon's nostrils flared and he looked about ready to kill. "You're wrong. She loved me. Just like I loved her."

"No, you didn't. You were compelled. We were both compelled."

Damon pointed at him furiously. "You were compelled! You remember everything once you become a vampire, and I've always loved her. Even when I knew what she was doing with you."

He drew his head back in shock, and the silence became deafening. He spoke, though he sounded like the wind had been knocked out of him. "You knew?"

She could see Damon's jaw working. He smiled bitterly. "You're not getting in my way tonight. It's just not happening." Then he lunged at him, and the two became little more than a whirlwind.

Shit. I need to stop this. But how? She addressed Anna. "Can you break them apart?" It was too late, however, because next she knew, Damon had Stefan pinned to the ground with one hand, and was holding one of the branches in the other. He raised it, ready to stake his brother, and Angela's legs must have had a mind of their own, because she didn't recall making them move.

She'd always found it a bit silly whenever people said that when they had their first kiss, or saved a loved one from getting hurt, or were about to die time slowed down. She still found it silly when Damon brought the large piece of wood down onto Stefan's chest, because time didn't slow down. Not at all. If anything, time sped up, and she had to get there in time to save him. But she couldn't, because she was human.

Stefan gave a great, big gasp and looked down at his chest in shock. Damon stood back up and wiped the back of his hand across the split lip his brother must have given him. He glanced at the smear of blood it left on his knuckle. "Huh, not bad." He nodded towards the branch. "That should keep you busy." He walked back towards Anna and took a blood bag out of his pocket. "Let's do this."

For a moment, Angela couldn't breathe. Only when she realized that Stefan wasn't going grey and that he was still gasping in pain did she move the last few feet and fall on her knees beside him.

"O-oh, my God," she stammered, hands hovering over the wood. "I-is it safe for me to remove it? It looks like it's close to your heart."

"Grazing it," he managed to grunt.

"Fuck!" She turned her head to see that Anna and Damon were out of sight; likely at the entrance to the tomb already. "Goddammit, why is he like this!? Is it so difficult to not be an asshole for once!?"

"Angie," he gasped, "I'm kind of – agh – in pain over here."

"Shit! Right! Sorry. Tell me how to get it out safely."

He squeezed his eyes shut and it seemed like quite a task for him to open them again. "It's pointing up and to my left." He swallowed. "Just – just don't change the angle."

She nodded frantically. "Right." She wiped her clammy hands on her high-waist jeans, though that didn't do much, considering they were still damp from the rain. Good as it's gonna get.

She stood and wrapped her hands around the branch. She made sure that her stance was steady; that her feet weren't standing in any mud spots and that she couldn't easily slip. She looked into his eyes worriedly. "You ready?"

He nodded. "Do it."

She took a deep, steadying breath. 1… She dug her heels in. 2… She tightened her grip. 3! She pulled, and Stefan took a deep, pained breath. She stood frozen for a moment, waiting to make sure he wasn't dying.

It seemed he noticed, as he nodded and grunted out an "I'm good."

Her shoulders sagged in relief, and she dropped the branch on the ground carelessly. "Thank fuck."

He gave a weak chuckle. "You know, you curse a lot."

She swallowed to try and moisten her throat. "Only when a big piece of wood is sticking out your damn chest."

He hummed in acknowledgment, but then snorted. "Hah. Sticking. Get it? Stick. Wood."

She got back down on her knees, ignoring how her jeans were likely irreparably damaged. He still hadn't gotten up. "Do you need some, er, blood?"

"Mm, got any rabbits around here?"

"Um, I don't know. Can you hear anything running around?"

His eyebrows furrowed and he closed his eyes. He remained silent for so long that she was just about to ask him if he was still lucid when he sluggishly opened his eyes and muttered a simple "No."

She slapped her thighs. "Awesome."

The sound of leaves crunching could be heard coming from the direction of the tomb. She turned her head to see Anna walking towards them with a person under each arm. Under her right arm was a man who was looking around him weakly – Harper –and under her left was who must've been Pearl. She seemed to be a bit more alert than Harper, but the way her legs moved was just awkward enough for her to not look healthy. Cons of lying down for more than a century, I guess. They both looked dusty, dry, and more than in need of a bath.

Angela shot Anna a tight smile. "Everything's fine, then?"

She nodded and glanced back warily. "For me? Yeah. Damon's, uh, beginning to freak out a little bit." She widened her eyes sarcastically. "Wonder why…"

She fidgeted. Pearl and Harper were staring straight at her now, and it was beginning to make her feel uncomfortable. "Will you be taking them back to the motel?"

"Yeah. Until we find a better place." She glanced at Pearl and her eyes softened. "You should come by tomorrow. I'm sure Mother would want to speak with you."

"I would." Pearl's voice was scratchy.

Angela gave a firm nod. "Absolutely. I'll come over after school, as soon as I can."

"Good." Anna smiled. "Thank you. For everything." Angela watched them until they were gone from her sight.

"So," she sighed, "I probably owe you an explanation, don't I?" She looked down to gauge Stefan's reaction, but her heart dropped when she saw his eyes closed and his chest unmoving. She gently shook his shoulders. "Stefan?" Nothing. She shook him harder. "Stefan?" It was like his neck had been snapped. She bit her lip and quickly ran her eyes up and down his body. Not going grey… Guess I just have to wait. Damn animal diet.

Damon suddenly appeared in front of her, and she couldn't help but jump. "Where is she?" he looked like he was barely holding it together. His eyes were wild and his hands were shaking.

"W-what are you talking about?"

She squeaked when he flashed in front of her and roughly pushed her back against the ground. Her legs had been folded, and they ached at the new, awkward angle they'd been forced into. He had his hand around her throat; a position he seemed to like.

"I thought we talked about this, Angela," he snarled, and his voice made her still in fear. He wasn't Damon at that moment. He wasn't a sentient being with his own thoughts and emotions. He was a predator; a panther about to devour a frightened little rabbit. Shame I hadn't known I was a rabbit earlier. Stefan might be conscious right now. "It's not your day to lie. And I swear to God, if you don't tell me everything right now – and I do mean everything," he applied a bit of pressure, "I will make the rest of your life a living hell." Through her fear, she could see the tears building up in his crazed eyes, but she couldn't think of exhibiting anything nearing empathy.

"Okay." Her voice came out a whisper. "Okay, I promise. I'll tell you everything." She felt a tear slide down the side of her face. "Just please don't kill me."

He glared at her, his wet eyes flickering between her own, and the moment he took his hand off her throat and drew back, she instinctively backed away on the heels of her palms. She sat up, wrapped her arms around her knees, and tried not to have a panic attack.

She squeezed her eyes shut to try and calm herself down enough to begin speaking. "Well," her voice shook badly, but she pressed onward, "if you'll remember, I said that I already tried telling you the truth. The night we met…"

.

At some point during her speech, he'd taken a flask out of his leather jacket and begun drinking whatever was inside. Bourbon, if she had to guess.

"… and that catches us up to where we are now. I think."

He nodded, face empty. "You're insane."

That might have irritated her if she wasn't so damn scared of what would happen if he didn't believe her. "I swear I'm not." Even she heard the desperation in her voice. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, I'd think I was crazy too, but I swear I'm telling you the truth."

He looked at her, and she thought she'd never seen someone so worn down. "Prove it, then. Tell me something no one but me would know."

He's willing to listen, was the first thought that crossed her mind. It was a shame that a second thought never came, however, no matter how hard she willed it. Her mind was completely drawing a blank, likely due to the stress, and she felt the cold hands of anxiety wrapping around her pounding heart.

He scoffed. "Right. Well," he pushed himself off the ground and started slowly approaching her, "having recently gotten my heart broken, I'm feeling a tiny bit compassionate. I don't think I'll make the rest of your life a living hell after all. I've already got people I intend to torture for the rest of eternity, kinda got a lot on my plate. What do you say I kill the rest of the town instead? The innocents you didn't put on your little list. I'll even let you choose how they go! Stabbing, shooting, drowning, draining? Your choice, but I recommend draining."

She wasn't sure why, but her mind laser-focused on one thing he said in particular: "I've already got people I intend to torture for the rest of eternity." Damon's not the kind of guy to torture people, is he? He just kills them, right? He's impulsive, he lives in the moment. I mean, it's his biggest flaw, for goodness' sake. Torture, torture, torture… Why is this so important to me?

Her breath hitched in realization.

Torture. The Whitmores. Augustine.

"Enzo."

His footsteps halted. "What did you just say?"

She lifted her head to look at his bewildered face. "Enzo. Lorenzo St. John. How else would I know about the bond you two formed during captivity? About the plan he hatched, for you to consume both your rations so that you'd grow strong, and about how you had to leave him behind to save yourself?" He was so silent she could hear her own heartbeat, though perhaps that wouldn't have been too hard to do either way. "Damon, I'm telling you the truth."

He jerked his head to the side. "No. There's no way. There's absolutely no way."

Somehow, she felt herself strong enough to stand. "Your father. Giuseppe. He slaughtered your pet turkey when you were young and forced you to eat it. He was the first person Stefan ever killed, and I'm glad he did, because he was an absolute monster." She stepped a few paces closer and looked into his eyes as sincerely as she possibly could. "You asked me to prove it. What more do you want?"

They stood staring at each other for a few moments, her in anticipation and him in wide-eyed disbelief.

"How…" he broke the silence. "How could you possibly know all that?" He still thinks I'm lying.

Her shoulders sagged in resignation. "You don't believe me. Which means you're going to murder everyone, because I have no idea what you want to hear." She smiled sadly. "I've been stupid. I played my cards wrong. I can see that now. I never should've approached you in the first place." Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. "Draining. It'd be a waste otherwise. You may as well get some nourishment out of it."

He blinked in astonishment. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said I'm gonna murder everyone?"

"Uh… you did."

"Well yeah, but that was before I was planning on using you to find Katherine instead." What?

She straightened up. "So you believe me, then?"

He barked a laugh. "Honestly? I don't know what to believe. But if you know about Enzo of all people, I don't think it's too long a shot to say you know about Katherine, too. So here's what I want: tell me how to find her, and if I do, I won't go on a bloody rampage."

She gaped at him before she processed what he was saying. "I-it's impossible to find Katherine unless she lets you. She should arrive here, though, within a year."

His eyes filled with hope. "For me?" Oh, Damon…

"For Elena," she said, and the hope was snuffed out.

His smirk tried to be devilish, but she saw how it shook. "Great. I like it here, anyway. Town's got great food."

"Wha- Wait. You mean you're staying until she gets here?"

"Why? Worried she won't? Worried you were lying?"

It was her turn to laugh. "If I'd lie about something that outlandish, I really should take Jenna's advice to go see a therapist."

"Great. Then we have a deal." He started backing away. "Oh, and," he motioned towards his brother, "you might wanna take care of that." His smirk widened before he vanished into thin air.

After a moment of wondering what the hell just happened, she kneeled down next to Stefan, who was still unconscious, and sighed. Now, what am I meant to do with you? She glanced down at his chest, where the branch used to be, but through all the blood she couldn't tell if he was healing properly. I'm gonna have to touch it, aren't I? She grimaced. I'm gonna have to touch the blood.

It was beginning to dry at least, so it didn't dirty her hand too much, but the idea of what she was doing still disgusted her. There weren't any wounds that she could feel, but she must have pressed against him a bit too hard, because at some point his entire body jolted and she startled back. Her eyes scanned him up and down in worry, and she felt like the earth had disappeared beneath her when she saw the tips of his fingers beginning to turn grey.

No. There's no way. But his hand's blood vessels were becoming dark and visible, and the grey started climbing his fingers.

She acted purely on instinct. She reached down next to her, grabbed the most jagged rock she could possibly find, and sliced her wrist. It didn't hurt, and had she been able to think of anything but I need to save him, she would've known that it was due to the adrenaline. She parted his lips with her uninjured hand and shoved her bleeding wrist into his mouth. Her eyes stayed glued to his hands.

At first the grey persisted, but she pushed against his mouth harder, and it paused in its ascent. She felt his lips beginning to move against her before she heard a soft click, and what must have been his fangs pierced her wrist. The grey was gone completely now, the vessels had begun to disappear, and she let out a breath of pure relief. Thank fuck.

He brought a hand up to trap her against his mouth, and she shifted nervously. "Stefan?" Nothing. "Stefan." He seemed to be losing himself in her blood, and her anxiety grew. She swallowed, bringing her free hand up to touch his cheek. "Stefan."

His eyes opened, and she gasped in fear at the sight of them red and hungry. It took a moment for him to recognize her, and then he roughly pushed her arm away from his mouth. He sat up, his eyes turning back to normal, and she cradled her wrist against her sternum.

He looked at her in confusion before he winced and brought a hand up to his chest. The light the waning gibbous moon provided was just enough for her to see a small piece of wood slowly being expelled from his skin.

"Oh," she breathed. "It must've been entering your heart."

He picked it out the rest of the way and let it fall from his fingers. "That why I passed out?" he groaned.

"Probably. You were turning grey."

"So you healed me."

"Couldn't just let you die, could I?" Her lips quirked up. "We were becoming friends." A smile briefly crossed his lips. She saw his eyes searching the area, and she took a guess at what – or rather who – he was looking for. "Damon left." His eyes snapped to hers. "Katherine wasn't in the tomb."

His eyebrows furrowed. "She wasn't?"

"Nope," she flashed a tight smile and stood. "But you know who is? A bunch of desiccated, very hungry vampires I still need to torch." She nodded towards the gasoline tank. "You in?"

He stood up with a grunt. "Only if you tell me what you're doing here."

"Deal."

.

"So… Elena's known about vampires this whole time?"

She laughed to try and conceal her disappointment. "Of course that's the first thing you think of. God, you two are so into each other. Yes, she's known about vampires – and you – this whole time." Angela poured gasoline over another vampire. She was completely still, except for her eyes, which followed them both as they moved. She stopped finding it creepy three vampires ago.

He ignored her first two sentences. "Who else knows, exactly?"

She hummed in thought. "Well… she and I are the only ones who know about you specifically, but just about vampires in general? Jeremy, our little brother does, like I said. Sheriff Forbes and her daughter, Caroline, know. The Lockwoods know, too, and that includes the son, Tyler. Then there's Sheila Bennett and her granddaughter, Bonnie. The Fells know. Um… my aunt, Jenna, doesn't know, but I'm planning on telling her soon, and… I'm pretty sure that's it. Oh! Caroline's dad, who left her and her mom last year, knows, but he doesn't live here anymore."

"So… basically everyone who runs the town."

"Basically." She poured gasoline over the last vampire, and it was good thing he was the last, because she had almost run out. "And we're done! Wonderful." She spun around to face him and dug the box of matches out of her bag. "Now, let's burn this place to the ground, shall we?"

.

The fire was almost pretty as it licked at the tomb's entrance. Beautiful, really. In a terrifying, gates-of-hell kind of way.

"You know, you still haven't answered me," said Stefan. "About why you're here. You just said that your family's always known about vampires."

She sucked air in through her teeth and turned to look at him. "Yeahhh, about that… Damon was right, I'm no good at lying today." His eyebrows rose. "So, here's my dilemma: At first, I tried telling your lovely brother the truth, but he didn't believe me, and so he threatened to kill me. Then, I told him a more easily believable lie – because trust me, the truth sounds absolutely ridiculous – and he believed me. But now, tonight, he forced the truth out of me by – like the sweetheart he is – threatening to make my life absolute hell. So, do I lie to you, hoping you'll believe me more easily but risking you finding out the truth from Damon? Or do I tell you the truth, knowing you'll probably lock me in a mental hospital?"

At some point during her rant he'd begun smiling, and as she finished, he looked like he was trying to hide a wide grin. His eyebrows remained raised. "Are you asking for permission to lie to me?"

She huffed a laugh. "I'm asking: what would you do if you were me?"

He hummed and finally succeeded in turning his smile into a serious, contemplative look. "Well… I can't really say, but I can promise you one thing. I promise I'll hear you out."

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "You won't threaten me?"

His eyes barely flicked to the bloody wrist she had wrapped her jacket around, but she still caught the motion. "I won't threaten you. Promise."

She was feeling careless, and she could only imagine it was because her mind didn't know how to deal with everything that had transpired today; or it was because of the blood loss. Probably the blood loss. She smiled teasingly and stuck a pinky out. "Pinky promise?"

He let out a chuckle as he wrapped his pinky around hers. "Pinky promise."

She clicked her tongue. "Guess you really mean it, then." She didn't pull her hand back. It felt oddly nice. "Promise me one more thing? Promise me you won't laugh?"

His eyebrows shot up again. "Well, now I'm just curious."

She attempted to glare at him, but it proved to be impossible. "Stefan…"

"Alright, fine," he made himself stop smiling and squeezed her pinky. "Pinky promise."

"Okay…" She took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "I was reincarnated." She waited for him to react in some way, but he seemed to be keeping his promise of hearing her out. She continued, "Not only that – and here comes the truly ridiculous part – but I also lived my first life in a universe different to this one. A universe where the events surrounding Mystic Falls were a story. Where you, and Damon, and even my whole entire family were nothing more than fictional characters." She paused again, and still no reaction. "And I knew that if I didn't help Damon with opening the tomb, Sheila would die and Bonnie would be alone and confused. I didn't want either of those things to happen, so that's why I'm here. I was helping both him and Anna open the tomb in such a way that the least amount of people get hurt."

She'd stopped talking for a good long time, and he still hadn't reacted. She grimaced. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

He blinked. "What? No. No, sorry, I just… I was just processing everything."

"God, you think I'm crazy." She finally pulled her hand back to run it through her hair. "Of course you do, how could you not? I sound crazy."

"No. Hey," he gently grabbed her shoulders. "I don't think you're crazy. Okay? Promise." He let go of her when she hesitantly nodded. "I was just thinking… It kind of makes sense now."

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. "Uhhh, what?"

A smile played at the edge of his mouth. "It kind of makes sense. How you're so much more mature than the people your age. Why you feel so familiar. You're older than you look. Like me. You remind me of myself."

Her mouth opened and closed before she made an odd sort of noise. "Wow, um, I'm gonna be honest? That might've just been the last thing I was expecting you to say."

"Well, I need to keep you on your toes, don't I?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "Yeah, I guess so…" She saw him glance at her wrist again. Okay, I need to do something about that. "So… you know how I said that you used to be a fictional character to me?"

"Which is super weird, by the way."

"Oh, super weird. But, um, that means that I know you're probably trying really hard not to drain me dry right now, because you don't exactly… do human blood."

He threw his head back in realization. "Ah. Yeah. Well I'm, uh, I'm handling it."

"You're handling it?"

"It's… not the easiest thing in the world," he glanced back down at her wrist, "but yeah. I'm not going to attack you or anything."

Her lips thinned in worry. "You know, you don't have to sugarcoat things for me. If you're suffering, you're suffering."

He avoided her eyes, choosing instead to look at the tomb. "You should probably go home. It's getting late. Don't we have school tomorrow?"

She raised her hands defensively. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint. Sorry. I need to take Sheila back to her house first. She's kinda beat."

"Sheila? Sheila Bennett was here, too?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess you kinda missed her." She remembered something and winced. "But she's unconscious and I'm pretty weak at the best of times, so… I probably won't be able to get her into her house without any help."

"Want me to come with?"

She smiled apologetically. "That would be great. But you don't have to, of course."

He shook his head. "I want to. I'd like to talk more with you, anyway." She tried to ignore how giddy that made her feel.

"Find me interesting, do you?" Stop it.

"Wouldn't you find me interesting if I said I was from a different universe?"

She gave a gentle smile. "I already find you interesting." Angela. Stop it.

He didn't seem to be expecting her to say that, but quickly mirrored her expression. "Well then… what are you waiting for?" He motioned in the direction of the road. "Lead the way."

.

"Ugh," Angela groaned as they neared the car. She looked down at her clothes. "I'm gonna ruin the seat."

"Oh, it's not that bad. Most of the destruction is on your shins and the back of your head."

She turned to him in horror. "There's mud in my hair?"

Stefan gave a chuckle at the look on her face and shook his head. "Just twigs."

She turned back towards the car with a moan. "Great." She peered through one of the backseat windows and saw Sheila exactly as Anna had described her. She waited for a moment to see if her chest was rising and falling, but then remembered who was standing next to her. "How's her heartbeat?"

His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and she saw the veins under his eyes beginning to show themselves. He quickly turned his head away. "Yeah, uh, good." He cleared his throat. "Not as strong as yours, but it's there."

She nodded, deciding not to mention how his face had changed. "Good. Let's go."

The car ride was silent and awkward, and she couldn't pretend like she didn't notice him breathing through his mouth so he wouldn't smell the blood. "Are you doing okay?"

He startled out of cleaning his chest with the antibacterial wipes she'd given him. "Yeah. Uh, yeah, it's just… more difficult to ignore it in an enclosed space." He had his window rolled down, but thankfully for her and Sheila, the warmth the AC provided was enough to keep most of the cold out.

"Do you… want to heal me? Would it help?" Been drinking an awful lot of vampire blood today.

He shook his head and went back to cleaning himself. "There's still blood on you. And on your jacket. It wouldn't do anything right now."

She nodded and pressed harder against the gas pedal. "Got it."

After a moment spent in silence, he spoke back up. "Uh, you know, maybe it would help if you talked to me. It helps remind me that you're a person and not…"

"A blood bag?"

He sucked in a breath. "Yeah."

"Alright, um… Oh! I really enjoyed listening to that copy of The Works that you gave me."

"Did you?"

She hummed affirmatively. "I had to dig out my parents' old record player for it, but that kind of just made it better."

"Good. I'm glad."

"Yeah, well I'm sure Elena enjoyed reading Wuthering Heights. That was the book you gave her, wasn't it?"

He finally turned to look at her, and he seemed confused. "What do you mean?"

She glanced at him before focusing back on the road. "What do you mean what do I mean? When you came over a few nights ago. You two talked… Didn't you tell her you'd give her a copy of Wuthering Heights?"

He looked to be genuinely clueless. "No? We mainly just talked about our families and what the future might hold."

She sat in confused silence before a thought struck her. "Wait, did she start ranting about me or something?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it ranting, but she did seem upset over something you did."

She gave a slow nod. "Huh…" So that's something else I changed.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"No, no, it's okay. We've already worked everything out and moved on. Really, don't worry about it." She turned onto the street Sheila lived on.

"What's wrong, then?"

She smiled absently and slowed to a stop. "I'll tell you some other time. We're here."

He gave a nod and click of his tongue. "Yeah, and I'm… not invited in."

She threw her head against the headrest in irritation. "Of course you're not. Things can never just be easy, can they?" She turned to look at Sheila. "Think we'll be able to wake her up for a minute?"

"We can try."

"That, we can. Worst case scenario, I'm forced to change her in the car, but," she reached a hand over to touch her clothes, "she's getting dry, and Anna managed to put paper towels over all her vital organs."

"Yeah, uh, speaking of… Anna?"

"Pearl's daughter from 1864. Annabelle. She goes by Anna now, which I honestly can't blame her for. Annabelle just makes me think of that Christmas movie with the cow. Hey," she gently shook the witch's shoulder. "Ms. Sheila." She saw her eyelids flutter and shook her again. "Ms. Sheila." She groaned and mumbled something unintelligible. "Ms. Sheila."

"Christ, what?" Her words were slurred to the point where Angela had to focus in order to make out what she was saying.

"I need to get you inside."

Sheila uttered something that sounded like "Do it, then," and Angela huffed.

"Yeah, I would if I was as strong as Sheriff Forbes. I need Stefan's help, but you haven't invited him in yet."

Sheila's eyes opened a crack, and they eventually focused on Stefan. She let out a weak, quiet snort. "Get outta here. You haven't aged a day."

He chuckled softly. "Neither have you."

She snorted again. "I'll take that as an insult towards my younger self."

"You know," Angela patted Sheila's leg with a smile, "I think you're gonna be just fine."

She sighed loudly. "I'm gonna hate myself for this tomorrow, but… Stefan. Come inside my home."

"Great." Angela looked to him. "I'll unlock the door, you carry her in?"

"Sounds good."

By the time they had reached her bedroom, Sheila was out like a light. It felt odd to see someone as strong and capable as her being carried to bed like a little girl, but Angela was more concerned about her living to see another day. She decided to shoot Elena a text, saying that she'd be sleeping over because she didn't want to leave her alone. She decided to shoot Bonnie a text too, to let her know that her Grams was safe.

Stefan had waited in the living room while she changed Sheila into a nightgown, and she made sure to leave her as warm and dry as possible. It felt oddly familiar, the whole process, and she wondered if she had ever been a caretaker in her previous life. It didn't fit her image of who she had been, however, so she elected not to think about it too much.

She headed to the laundry room and removed the jacket from around her arm, hissing as she peeled away the fabric that covered her wound. Thankfully, the blood had stopped. She threw it in the washing machine in mild disgust. Once she'd successfully gotten the laundry going, she walked through the door and into the bathroom. Her clothes had dried off a considerable amount by now, but after picking the twigs out of her damp hair, she decided to give her entire body a pass with the hairdryer. It made her hair look a bit frizzy, but at least she was dry.

She stepped out into the living room, where she found Stefan sitting on the couch. He looked to be deep in thought, but glanced up when he saw her.

"Hey."

"Hey." She lifted her arm. "You wanna take care of this?"

He nodded and stood. "Yeah. Good idea." They met each other halfway, and she saw that his eyes were locked on her wound.

"So," she blurted out. Not a blood bag, not a blood bag. "Sheila's probably gonna be alright. That's good."

"Yeah," he shook himself out of his trance and looked into her eyes. "I'm glad I could help. Uh, here," his eyes changed before his fangs dropped, and he bit the inside of his wrist.

She shot him a grateful smile and gently grabbed his forearm. She brought it up to her mouth, and when she started sucking on the puncture wounds, her face twitched in surprise. He tasted different than Anna had. Her blood had tasted enough like that of a human's, but it had also reminded her of that one time Grayson let Elena serve breakfast and she ended up pouring salt in the maple syrup. Stefan's blood, however, tasted closer to honey. I wonder if diet has anything to do with it.

She pulled away once her skin stitched itself back together. She wiped the excess blood from her mouth and sucked it off her fingers. "You know, that's the third time I've done that today and it was no less weird than the other two."

He smiled in amusement, and only when she looked up did she realize how close they were. She tried to hide her blush by letting go of his arm and walking towards the kitchen. "I'm gonna wash the blood away. I'm pretty sure there's some alcohol in that," she pointed, "cabinet. If you want it."

She turned the faucet on, and Stefan raised his voice so she could hear him. "Are you sure she won't mind?"

She squirted soap on her wrist. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her." Although it might hurt me when she inevitably figures it out.

She heard his chuckle, followed shortly by the sound of the cabinet door creaking open. She scrubbed away at the blood until all of it was down the drain and her skin was nice and pink. She grabbed a towel to pat herself dry. Think that's all of it.

She checked herself over one last time to make sure, and walked out into the living room. Stefan had found two glasses and was drinking from one of them.

"Hey," she did a spin. "Am I blood-free?"

He nodded with a smile. "Blood-free." He poured some whiskey into the empty glass. "Come celebrate your newfound cleanliness with some Maker's Mark."

I swear, everyone in this town is obsessed with bourbon. She grinned and sat down beside him. "So, does this help? Thank you," she took the glass.

"Does what help?"

She motioned towards the alcohol. "This. Does it help with your cravings?"

"Ah. Well," he leaned back into the plush, beige sofa, "a little bit does. Too much, though, and I can't control myself as easily. Which I guess is true for everyone."

She hummed and brought the glass up to her lips. "That sucks." She downed the whole thing in one shot and grimaced as it burnt her throat.

He looked at her oddly as she immediately went for a refill. "Yeah, it does. Are you okay?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "I forced you to get on the path to becoming your worst self and you're asking me if I'm okay?"

He made a face that said "you've got a point." He cleared his throat. "Well… I say that asking myself if I'm okay can wait until tomorrow."

She snorted and joined him in being swallowed by the couch. "Cheers to that." They clinked their glasses together and took a sip. She cocked her head in thought. "Hey, can I ask you something?" She waited until he made an affirmative noise. "Do you really believe me? About the whole… reincarnation thing? Or are you just humoring me?"

He was silent for a bit. "You want the truth, right?" She nodded. "Truth is… I don't know. I'm going to have to look into it before I can pass any judgment. It is a bit spooky how you know so much, though."

Her eyebrows rose in amusement as she kicked off her sneakers. "I've never been called spooky before."

He chuckled and followed suit, taking off his loafers and getting more comfortable. "Well, you are. Very spooky."

She grinned and took another sip. "Since I'm already very spooky… I suppose there's no harm in me suggesting you call Lexi, is there?"

That caught him off-guard. "You know about her?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I know about her, Stef. She's a giant part of your life."

He teasingly scrunched his nose up. "See? Spooky."

She made an indignant noise through her laughter, and when she pushed at his shoulder, he chuckled along. "Oh, shut up."

He spoke after her giggles had died down. "Can I ask you something, too?"

Her smile softened. "Of course."

"Why haven't you killed Damon yet? I mean, you said that he threatened you multiple times, and if you're essentially all-knowing, you must've known that Katherine wasn't in the tomb in the first place. Why help him?"

She felt her eyes glaze over before she sighed and focused back on him. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. "For you." His face went slack. "For both of you. For your relationship." She shrugged small. "I wanted to give you two a shot at being brothers again. You deserve it. Both of you." She bit her lip to try and suppress her smile. "Even if you're terrible at handling human blood and Damon's an asshole."

He grinned. "He is an asshole, isn't he?"

She giggled and moved so that her feet were on the sofa. "Oh, God… I've barely talked to him for an hour total and I already wanna punch him in the throat." That drew a laugh from him, deep and genuine, and she felt a silly amount of pride at having caused it.

He raised his glass. "Cheers to that, too." He went for a refill and she quickly downed the rest of her drink. Her knees had gotten numb after her initial shot, but now she could feel herself becoming forward.

"Here," she held her glass out towards him. "I want more, too."

He paused and looked between her and the bottle contemplatively. Her glass was gently pried from her fingers and set down on the coffee table. He brought the bottle up to his lips, and she couldn't keep the curl of her lips from turning devious.

"Sheila's gonna kill me."

"Do you really care?" He was smiling at her, eyes full of mischief.

"Not one bit." He passed the bottle to her and she drank from it without hesitation. "Let's see… In the span of one day, Damon murdered Tanner in front of my eyes, my pacifist sister said she wants to become a vampire hunter – er, not for vampires like you, don't worry – Emily Bennett came back to life and cracked my spine against a tree, I thought you died, twice, I thought Damon was going to kill me and every human being within a five-mile radius, and I ruined my favorite pair of jeans." She took the bottle back as soon as he pulled it away from his lips. "I just want to relax. And… maybe take a shower."

He hummed and let the side of his head fall against the sofa. "Bath's better for relaxing."

She looked at him like he was the messiah. "Bath…" He grabbed the bottle, but her hand remained in place. "Good idea." She noticed that they'd drunk nearly half the bottle and pushed it back towards him when he went to give it to her. "Is this what you call a little alcohol?"

"Hey," he pointed an accusatory finger at her, though there was no real heat behind it. "You want to relax. Why can't I want to relax?"

"Ummm," she pointed a finger right back at him, "because I don't need the Ripper of Monterey running around just when things are beginning to look up again."

"Oh, come on," he threw his head back, "I'm not gonna murder the whole town just because I drank a little blood." She looked at him sternly, and he huffed. "I mean, yeah, alright, fine, you were delicious and I've hardly been able to think about anything other than tasting you again," she found it ridiculous how that made her heart flutter, "but it's still controllable at this stage. I'll call Lexi, like you said."

"Oh, wow," she breathed, "don't let Elena hear you called me delicious."

"And that's another thing," the finger was back. "Why are you so obsessed with me and Elena together?"

Her eyes widened in indignation. "Oh, why am I obsessed with you and Elena together?" She moved so that she was sitting upright, on her legs, and Stefan matched her alert posture. "Because you're meant to be together! That was the whole point! You're the Yin to her Yang, there's even a whole damn prophecy about it! It's destiny. Not my fault Julie Plec has a hard-on for bad boys."

"Julie Plec?"

She pressed a finger against his lips and glared. She had worked herself up now. "And who does she think she is, huh, teasing us with Klaroline so damn much and never following through? Like, God, I'm sorry, but canon Tyler was so not worth it. And like, I get that she didn't wanna leave her whole life behind just for some… dude she met practically yesterday, but-" He pressed a finger against her lips, effectively shutting her up. He looked like he was trying not to laugh as he gently grabbed her wrist and moved her hand away from his mouth.

"You do realize I have no idea what you're talking about, right?"

She deflated instantly. He moved his finger away when he saw that she'd calmed down, though his hand remained wrapped around her wrist.

"Sorry," she muttered bashfully.

"So… assuming the last few minutes weren't a fever dream," she interrupted him with a giggle, "what I got from that was that… Elena and I are meant to be together?"

She nodded firmly. "Yes. Absolutely."

He hummed. "Because of a prophecy."

"Well… I mean, sure, that's part of it, but you're also perfect for each other as people."

"Ohhh, I see. And so you see it as your responsibility to get us together."

"I-I mean, not my responsibility, but I definitely want it to happen."

He cocked his head, and she only realized he'd been rubbing circles over her pulse point when he stopped. "Do you?"

She swallowed at how close they'd gotten. "Yeah, of course."

He stared at her intensely, and she very nearly forgot how to breathe. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "Do you want to know why I don't think you're crazy?"

She blinked at the whiplash the sudden change of topic gave her, but quickly recovered. "Yeah. Of course."

"Because in order to survive for one-hundred-sixty-one years in a world as cruel as this one, I've had to learn to read people. You seem to genuinely believe your story, and so far, you seem like the farthest thing from unstable."

She continued staring at him in confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Every time you've mentioned me and Elena, it feels more like you're trying to convince yourself that we're perfect for each other. Not like you already believe it."

Her heart skipped a beat. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing would come out.

"So if you want to prove me wrong," she became all too aware of his breath fanning her lips, and she wasn't sure if the reason she felt numb and tingly all over was the alcohol, "if you truly believe that she and I are meant to be together, I want you to stop me from kissing you right now."

Then, she really did forget how to breathe. She even forgot how to think, for a moment. But then, her mind became a battlefield.

What is wrong with you? some strong, rational part of her hissed. Push him away, this'll ruin everything.

It's not like I'm coming on to him, replied her pounding heart. He's coming on to me. He's attracted to me, and I'm attracted to him.

Oh, my God, you're drunk! Both of you! And, what, you think Elena won't find out? You think this won't crush her? The first good thing that happened to her since the murder and you're stealing it from right beneath her fingerti-

She took too long.

His mouth attacked hers like a snake.

ooo

She automatically wrapped a fist in his black button-up, and she barely registered the groan he made when she pulled him closer to her, but when she did, she knew she had to hear it again.

She felt his tongue lick at her lips, and she pulled away as much as she could with his hand cradling the back of her head. His eyes looked almost as hungry as they had when she'd fed him her blood, and damn if the sight didn't do something to her. She pushed him, and she must've caught him off-guard, because he let go of her and fell against the back of the sofa with a grunt.

Before he could react, she climbed on top of him, legs on either side of his thighs, and brought him into a feral kiss. That made him groan again, and the sound had her smiling in satisfaction. He wrapped both his arms around her waist, and she couldn't recall ever having felt smaller in a more pleasant way. She nipped at his lower lip and he let it fall open immediately.

God, how long had it been since she'd kissed somebody like this? Seventeen years, at the very least. She sucked on his tongue at the same time as she tugged on his hair, and this time he growled. She let out a moan of approval. That's more like it. She could feel him begin to stiffen beneath her, and it took everything she had not to grind her hips down into him.

She hadn't been paying attention, and she gasped when he wrapped a fist in her hair and pulled her head back, just roughly enough to be pleasant. He attacked her neck like a man possessed, licking and sucking and nipping until she was breathless and positive that she would need to buy more concealer tomorrow.

He sucked at the dip between her collarbones a bit too roughly, and she jolted with a squeak. The arm that didn't have its hand in her hair still held her firmly against him, and he bucked into her as she accidentally stimulated him. That made her moan. Loud. He moved her head so she could see him – or maybe it was so he could see her – and she saw the veins beneath his eyes beginning to darken. For some reason, that just made her want him more.

"God," she panted, "you're gorgeous."

He groaned and brought her in for another kiss. She cradled his jaw with one hand and kept the other tangled in his hair, hoping that she was making him feel as trapped as he made her feel. He might have been the vampire with a thirst for blood, but she wanted to completely consume him.

She pulled back to push his jacket off his shoulders, but he barely let her leave his lips, stealing kisses whenever he could. Eventually, the jacket was flung somewhere across the room, and his mouth attacked hers with renewed vigor. She squeaked as the world spun, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself lying beneath him, his arms still wrapped around her. He bucked into her with a low moan.

"We should-" a nip at her throat made her gasp. "Bonnie's room."

He came up to kiss her one last time before he pulled away. It seemed physically painful for him to do so. "Where?" His voice was rough and hoarse, and she whimpered at the stab of arousal that hit her stomach.

"Across from Sheila's." The world spun again, and she had to close her eyes so she wouldn't get nauseous. She felt herself get thrown onto a bed, and instinctively clutched onto the duvet so as not to fall off. Her eyes opened and she saw Stefan quickly shut and lock the door. He turned to look at her hungrily, and next thing she knew, he was back on top of her.

She wanted to feel his skin. She started unbuttoning his shirt, and he must have gotten impatient when she fumbled one too many times, because he pulled away to rip it off. Thankfully, no buttons pelted her. She nearly salivated at the sculpted muscles that lay beneath, but she settled for bringing her hands up to press against them. She saw his stomach clench, and Christ. I did that, didn't I? The thick fabric of his jeans did leave a bit to the imagination, but even so, she could clearly see the effect their make-out session had on him.

She hadn't realized she'd been biting her lip until his thumb came up to pry it free. They locked eyes, and she could only hope that she looked as ready to devour him as he did her.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, and she was beginning to feel faint from all the blood in her body rushing to one spot.

She wanted to pull him down by his shirt, but it was no longer there, so she decided to improvise. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled herself up against him. She pressed a kiss onto his skin, and then another when his mouth dropped open.

"Lie down," she breathed, and saw his stomach clench again. He did as he was told, but kept himself raised up on his elbows, never once taking his eyes off of her.

She took off her red, sweetheart neckline blouse and shimmied out of those ruined jeans as quickly as humanly possible. His fingers twitched, and she wondered just how much she would give to know what was going through his head. She thanked Caroline's perfectionist nature for drilling into her the habit of only buying underwear that matched her bra.

She started crawling towards him, and she could see the smirk that played on his open mouth. She bent down, trying to make herself look as appealing as possible, and licked a stripe up his abdomen. That wiped the smirk right off his face. His head fell back and he sighed, only to gasp and look back down when she squeezed the outline of his cock.

With a smirk of her own, she started unbuttoning his jeans, and he laid himself down fully. He raised his hips to help her pull them down his legs, and her eyes widened in delight at the sight of the wet patch seeping through his boxers.

"Mm…" she bit her lip. "Did I do that?"

He chuckled breathlessly. "Of course you did."

Her smirk turned into a devious smile and she lowered her mouth to hover over him. "Good," she whispered, and sucked at the wetness. Or rather, at what lay beneath.

He let out a harsh, surprised moan, and instinctively moved to tangle a hand in her hair. She sucked again and gently kneaded at where his base must have been, and his breaths started turning into quiet pants. She looked up to see him staring at her with his mouth fallen open and his face contorted in a lovely mixture of pleasure and need, and she couldn't help but moan at the sight. She wanted to make him completely lose control.

The vibrations her moan caused made his hips buck, and she placed a palm against his abdomen to keep him still. She knew that it was useless, that he could easily do anything he wanted, but she enjoyed the false sense of authority she held over him.

She teased him through his underwear until the wet patch grew to cover the entire length of his cock, though most of it was caused by her saliva rather than his own pre-cum.

"Angie," he groaned. He was still flat on his back, and didn't bother lifting his head up to look at her. She hummed inquisitively, tongue against his barely-covered manhood, and she smiled when she felt it jump. "Stop teasing."

She lifted herself up on her knuckles to look at him with a pout. "But you're fun to tease."

His expression was bordering on dangerous. "You'll stop teasing me if you don't want me to fuck you until the bed breaks."

She didn't think it was possible for her to become more aroused, but he proved her completely wrong. Her breath got caught in her throat and she rubbed her thighs together to provide some amount of relief, but that only made things worse. Her voice was high and needy when she spoke. "Can't you just do that anyway?"

He growled, and before she realized what was happening, she was beneath him, face pressed against the mattress and ass high in the air. She turned her head so she wouldn't suffocate, and caught a glimpse of him before he tore her underwear clean off. She gasped at the cool air that hit her throbbing cunt.

He groaned at the sight, quickly unclasping and throwing her bra off to the side. His arms came down to support himself as he leaned over her, and she whimpered when his hot breath hit her ear. "Careful making noise," he whispered roughly, making her shiver. "Wouldn't wanna wake her up."

She did her best to nod, but her mouth fell open in a gasp when she felt two of his fingers running up and down her slit. She squeaked when he grazed her clitoris, and he chuckled darkly.

"You know," his mouth was still hovering over her ear, "I wonder how long I can tease you until you break." She let out a whine of displeasure at the thought and closed her eyes. "Fortunately," he pulled his fingers away from her, "I'm too impatient for that right now."

She felt a breeze hit her back before her eyes flew open at the feeling of his cock prodding at her entrance. Vampire speed is no joke.

She looked back at him and whimpered at how absolutely predatory he looked. His eyes were red, the veins beneath dark and prominent, and he had to keep his lips parted so his fangs wouldn't pierce his gums.

Her mouth fell open in a silent moan when he slowly started pushing himself in. He would be Angela Gilbert's first time, technically, though she was far too wet for it to hurt any. She had to actively keep herself from clenching around him.

Once he was all the way in, he stilled and let out a throaty groan. "God, you're tight," he panted. All she could do was whine in pleasure and wonder if, in her previous life, she had ever been with anybody as big as him. He came to lean over her again, and supported himself on his forearms. "You okay?"

She nodded vigorously. She was more than okay. "More." Her voice was high and needy again, and it made him groan with desire.

He started rocking his hips back and forth, and she did her best to try and quiet her moans, but it proved to be one of the hardest things she's ever had to do. The task became even more difficult when he picked up the pace, and the only thing louder than skin hitting skin was the sound of their moans so close to her ears.

Her hands clawed and pulled at the duvet that she would definitely need to change before Sheila woke up, and when he hit that spot inside of her that made her see stars, nothing could have stopped the cry that ripped from her throat. He snarled and covered her mouth with the palm of his hand, and it all felt terribly, wonderfully erotic.

She had a sudden moment of clarity, where she realized just how horrible what they were doing was.

They were fucking each other in one of her closest friends' bed, across from the room where the woman who had quickly become her mother figure was sleeping off her battle wounds. The battle wounds that she had caused. They were fucking each other while Elena, a girl she loved more than most of the people on this earth, was likely getting ready for bed after worrying her head off for the safety of her beloved sister; the sister that was currently fucking the man Elena was well on her way to falling hopelessly in love with.

She realized it was horrible. She realized it was far, far beyond atrocious.

But as he brought a hand down to circle her clit, she just couldn't bring herself to care.

She couldn't say how long it was before an orgasm shook her body from crown to toenail, but she knew that she never wanted it to end. At some point during the bright, white light that filled her vision, she felt Stefan's hips stutter as he let out a loud, broken moan. She felt his warm, sticky seed fill her up, and then he collapsed on top of her as gently as he possibly could.

ooo

Their breaths were loud and made her almost uncomfortably hot as they mingled near her face. Eventually, after some time spent in peace, Stefan fell next to her with a grunt. She didn't bother following suit, choosing instead to catch her breath.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she forced herself to flop onto her side so she could see him properly. He was looking ahead of him, at the ceiling, while his chest rose and fell harshly. When he caught wind of her staring at him, he turned his head in her direction. He went to open his mouth, but she placed a finger on his lips.

She gave a tired, weary smile. "Let's talk tomorrow. Okay?"

He nodded. His voice was quiet. "Okay."

---

I wanna scream.

EDITED 10/06/2020: I remembered that the whole reason for the contract in the first place was so that Damon wouldn't hurt anyone Angela cared about like... ever. So now, instead of him threatening to kill her (because he can't, since his end of the contract is indefinite) he instead threatens to murder everyone in the town except for the people she put on the "do not touch" list.