After being examined by the doctor and given a mild sedative, Elena gives her statement to a police officer. Officer Cruz looks a little disgruntled, probably because the details she's able to give are somewhat sketchy.
Elena explained that she was unconscious through most of her nightmarish experience. She breathes a sigh of relief when the officer leaves. She just wants to sleep.
Her eyes start to drift shut when Rebekah bounds through the curtain of the emergency room bay. "Oh my God, Elena, are you okay?" she blurts out and throws her arms around her friend in a hug.
"I'm okay," Elena reassures her, forcing a smile as her eyes meet Caroline's over Rebekah's shoulder.
"Is Elijah here?" Elena asks and flicks the oxygen sensor off her finger.
"Yeah. He's talking to the doc..." Her voice trails off when Elijah appears.
"You're one lucky girl, Elena Gilbert," Elijah states, as he rakes his eyes over her.
"I know." Elena shivers at the thought of what she'd be now if not for Damon and her friends.
"What can you tell me?" Elijah pulls up a chair.
"I already gave my statement to the police officer. I identified my kidnapper as the man in the photo." A tremor rocks through Elena again at the mere image of Stefan in her mind.
"So Ric and Caroline found you?" Elijah probes.
"Yes, Ric fought with him, and the man escaped. Ric was going to go after him, but I begged him not to."
"Ric said as much. I issued an APB on the perp. We'll find him, Elena; you have my word," Elijah promises solemnly.
"You know I trust you, Elijah."
"I need to go. You're sure you're okay?"
"Yes. Thank you for coming."
Elijah gives her a nod and steps out just as Ric comes back in with the doctor.
"She's been given a sedative, so I don't want her driving." Doctor Maxfield looks at Ric.
"She won't be." Ric turns to Elena and says, "I'll let you get dressed. I'll be in the waiting room."
Elena nods at Ric as he steps out. "Thank you, doctor."
"You're a very lucky woman. I'm going to have the nurse wrap your wrists with some ointment and kerlix. Those rope burns look painful, then you're free to..." he rushes out of the room when a Code Blue is called.
Twenty minutes later, Elena, Rebekah, and Caroline meet Ric in the waiting room. Elena says goodbye to her friends and follows Ric to his car. "Caroline wants to spend the night; she'll meet us at my place."
"Good. I don't think you should be alone."
"Do you think Damon's okay?" Elena asks, her eyes drifting to the sky above. Stars light the darkness like snowflakes, yet they appear still, like an old photograph, its edges brown and cracked. Rolling down the window, she feels the wind blow through her hair. If she were in space, riding the limits of the horizon, she would watch the stars move and the galaxies tumble and dart. Hearing Ric's voice again, she snaps out of her musings, lays her head back, and turns to look at him.
"Damon will be fine. The woman he talked about, Lexi, she and Stefan are best friends. She's always known how to put him back on the straight and narrow. Damon told me once he doesn't much like her methods, though."
"She's the one he went to see," Elena remarks, covering her mouth to yawn.
"That's what he told me." Ric turns his head in a quick glance. Elena's head is lolling and a soft snore escapes her lips. Ric smiles tightly and turns down the radio as he continues to navigate the busy streets of Las Vegas.
Stefan comes to with a thudding headache. The back of his skull throbs like someone has been drilling lobotomy holes through it. He bites out a curse and moves his hand to rub it – except that his hand doesn't move. Something is restraining his arms. His legs, too, are immobilized, he notices when he tries to stand. The violent hum of electricity streaking through the air assaults his battered head, calling forth a grimace of agony. A steady dripping is echoing all around him.
How long has he been out cold? His lips are parched, and hunger growls in his stomach. He cracks open his eyes to better perceive his surroundings but blackness continues to engulf him. A tremor of panic vibrates in his core. He's blind and restrained to the point of near motionlessness. A lamb awaiting slaughter, a hen breathing its last lungful before the bloodied knife steals it forevermore.
It's all a dream, all a dream. Only a nightmare. He'll wake up any second now. Just a dream. Not real, not real. Not real!
He tries to wrench his arms free and feels narrow straps dig into his flesh. He cries out in pain and yet keeps pulling against the chains with his forearms. They cut in deep and draw blood; he notices that his wounds aren't healing.
Vervain.
His every instinct forces him to fight, to escape these bonds, to run free once again. Stefan snaps his head back, the impact dizzying him for a moment. He hits the metallic table again and again with the back of his head, futilely struggling to free himself. He yells out, his shout mingled with fury and panic. The stale air and the metallic scent of blood are like fingers of decay forcing their way down his throat and cause him to gag.
His strength is beginning to ebb; he continues to struggle against the restraints in fits and bursts but even those begin to come at longer intervals, waning as his energy dissipates. He draws in one ragged breath after another, inviting the foul fingers back down his throat again and again – a demented adult film of sickening proportions.
A squeak from rusty hinges; someone is coming in – or going out, he realizes. They are leaving him there to desiccate.
"No! No, no, no, no!" He tries to cry for help, but his throat is raw and dry from both shouting and lack of lubrication. He can tell it's been a while since he's had anything to drink. Just how long has he been here?
The distinct sound of swishing cloth reaches his ears. It's coming closer. Closer, closer, and then past him, the faint footsteps receding in the other direction.
"Come... ba-..." he rasps as loud as he can.
He listens for an excruciating moment. They aren't coming back. They have left him to rot, to desiccate in the darkness. His tortured throat lets out a pathetic cry as he pulls against his bonds with the remainder of his strength.
"It seems our patient is awake," someone says above him, and he knows that voice. He hears the door creak at its rusty hinges when it opens.
"Damon?" he asks, unable to see through the blindfold.
Damon removes the blindfold. "I thought you were dead, Stefan."
"Here's some deer blood," comes another voice as glass is pressed against his lips. Stefan drinks it down, relieved to have some sustenance, no matter how bad it tastes.
"Lexi?"
"Yes, it's me, and what the hell were you thinking? I also thought you were dead. Where have you been for the last several years, Stefan?" she demands to know.
"Plotting my revenge," he spits, struggling against the straps that bind him.
"How did you survive in that fire? I saw the house collapse on top of you. I still don't know how you're alive," Damon questions, staring down at him.
"You mean when my brother left me to die?" Stefan sneers, his nose crinkling up as he shoots Damon a malevolent stare.
Damon visibly flinches. "I couldn't save you, Stefan, and after...I turned my humanity off. The pain I felt believing you died was too much. And when I turned it off, I felt nothing. No remorse. No regret. No pain..."
Stefan laughs bitterly.
Damon reaches down and jerks his bindings, freeing him. "Take care of him, Lexi, or Ric will hunt him down and kill him for real this time," he cautions, giving her a nod.
"I'll walk out with you." Lexi pulls the cell door closed and secures it with chains.
"Goodbye, Stefan. And for what it's worth, I'm grateful that you're alive." Damon stares at him for several seconds before walking away.
"Try not to worry, Damon. We will take care of him. Lee's already making arrangements for us to fly to Budapest. We'll be staying in an old castle. Probably won't have a wifi signal, but I'll check in when I can."
"How could we not have known; after all this time?" Damon sighs, and rests his ass against his car.
"I'm at a loss myself, Damon. When he's in a better mood and ready to talk, I intend to find out."
"I'd like to visit when you think he's amenable to it."
"You two may fight like dogs, but in the end, you'd die for each other. Try not to worry, he's going to be okay. It's just going to take time. Maybe a lot of it. Then we can go back to hating each other," Lexi quips with a wink.
Damon laughs. "Indeed," he agrees. "I need to get on the road. Bye, Lexi. And thank you."
"Go on, I'll touch base." Lexi smiles.
Damon slides into his Camaro, rolls down the window, and sticks his arm out in a wave as he drives away.
The voice in her ear is screaming her name, begging her to hold on.
"Stay with me."
Silence.
Nothing but the cold fingers squeezing her throat, emptying her lungs, silencing her futile screams for help. Nothing but the darkness creeping in at the borders of her vision, threatening to plunge her into a never-ending sleep. Nothing but the blue of his eyes as he pounds on her chest, wordlessly pleading for her not to die. Nothing but his quiet tears when she asks, in a broken whisper, if she's alive.
Having her neck snapped.
Before.
During.
After.
Always dying...
The ringing phone jolts Elena from her nightmare, the abrupt wrench from dream to reality sending her careening into the bathroom to empty the meager contents of her stomach. She retches twice before being reduced to dry heaves and collapsing onto the floor, laying her cheek against the cold tiles and taking slow, measured breaths to settle her mind and her churning insides.
Elena's staring out her office window, watching the traffic below. Sighing, she smiles at the rainbows streaking her walls, a result of the sun reflecting off the crystal that's sitting on her desk. Returning to her chair, her thoughts drift to Damon. After he left with Stefan, Ric and Caroline had taken her home, staying with her overnight.
She's also had nightmares the last couple of nights. Perhaps it's illogical to long for comfort from a vampire when you've just been attacked by another vampire, but Elena misses Damon and is anxious for him to return to her. After all, he promised he'd come back.
Feeling restless, she puts her things away and trudges to Ric's office. She shoves the door closed behind her.
"What's up?" he asks, gesturing for her to take a seat.
"Do you think Elijah believed our story about Stefan's escape? I think he'd have me committed to a mental facility if we tell him it was a vampire," she says and sighs, dropping into a chair.
"Elena, we weren't lying when we told him that he got away during the scuffle. He and Damon did brawl," Ric points out.
"I hope he believes us. I talked to him yesterday. He informed me that there have been no sightings of my attacker. He also asked about Damon. I told him that he had to leave town on some personal business. Knowing Elijah as well as I do, I think he's a little suspicious of the timing, but he didn't press me. It really wasn't a lie either. Damon did leave with his brother. It won't surprise me in the slightest if Stefan's picture shows up on the FBI's most-wanted list."
"You can make a bet on it," he agrees, nodding his head.
"Have you heard from Damon yet?" Elena asks.
"Only that he arrived at Lexi's place, and Stefan is incapacitated."
"I'm anxious for him to get back."
"Damon's my best friend, Elena, but you really need to consider what being with him will involve. I know he can be charming; women fall all over him...but wherever vampires go, trouble follows."
"I understand that, Ric. At this point, I can tell you with absolute certainty that becoming a vampire is not something I want; however, I do love him, and despite everything, I want to see where it may lead. We have much to talk about, that's a given...If the day comes when I decide I want an eternity with him, I guess we'll find a way to deal with it."
"All I'm asking is that you go into it with your eyes wide open," Ric cautions her.
"I will." Elena glances at her watch. "I need to get back to work."
"Close the door on your way out," he calls after her just as it snaps shut.
When she gets home, Elena empties a bottle of water and grabs a second one before going to her office to record a new episode. Turning on her recording equipment, she stretches, trying to fight the fatigue of another sweltering Las Vegas afternoon. She starts out by giving her audience a mesmerizing update on the Las Vegas murders. She tells her listeners the truth, that she had been kidnapped and miraculously survived her spine-chilling encounter with the killer.
Elena explains that he ran off when confronted by a Good Samaritan who risked his own life to help her. The police are still looking for the killer but as of this recording, there have been no credible sightings of him. Elena tells her readers again to call the LVMPD if they have any information."
Finishing up that segment, she presses pause. After glancing over her notes one last time, she takes another long swallow of water, takes a breath and pushes the button to begin.
The tale of the infamous Hollywood Bandit seems to be just that, a tale. A tale of high-speed chases, police shootouts, elaborate disguises, unrelenting law officials, double lives, flamboyant tree houses, and adrenaline junkies. A screenplay in the making. And that is exactly how Scott Scurlock liked it.
Born and raised in Virginia, he moved to Olympia, Washington, in 1978 to attend school at Evergreen State College. His goal had been to become a doctor. Soon, however, he became involved with illegal substances. After being granted his own lab on campus, Scurlock would sneak in after-hours to make crystallized methamphetamine.
With a very lucrative amount of money coming in from drug operations, Scurlock no longer worried about getting an education. Using his drug money, he began designing and building his infamous three-story, 60-foot treehouse. It was described as "Robin Hood land". Decks meandered on and on. A fireman's pole led to the lower levels and the ground. The windows were as tall as full-grown men; there was even running water and bathtubs. It looked like something taken right out of a fairy tale.
Scurlock was highly manipulative and usually got exactly what he wanted. His brazen good looks and endless charm did not hurt either. He was the definition of a man with a double life. In 1990, after a dangerously close call, Scurlock abandoned his drug business. It didn't take him long to recruit people to help with his next venture.
On June 25, 1992, two men entered a Seattle bank. One wore a Ronald Reagan mask, the other theatre makeup, a fake nose, a wig, and sunglasses. Quiet, calm, and intimidating, the two figures immediately took control of the room…successfully escaping with $19,971.
By 1995, Scurlock had stolen over a million dollars from Seattle and Portland banks. Scurlock was famous for his immaculate disguises and was dubbed the Hollywood Bandit. A $50,000 reward was offered to anyone who had information leading to his arrest.
The final robbery took place on November 27, 1996. The moment Scurlock and another accomplice entered the bank, a teller pressed the silent alarm. The police arrived quickly. Meanwhile, due to a heavy storm and holiday traffic, the robbers were slow to leave the scene. Soon, Scurlock noticed police cars following him. Calmly, he leaped out of the car, gun loaded. Shots went off on both sides. Scurlock hopped back into the car, which sped off again.
Scurlock stayed hidden for a whole day. The police spared no effort searching for him through the horrendous storm, but in the end, it was civilians who found him. Robert and Ronald Walker were visiting their mother for Thanksgiving. After hearing about an escaped robber, their mother convinced her sons to check out the camper in the backyard. They became suspicious after seeing a top window open. Glancing through the windows, one of the boys saw the outline of a man. They immediately dialed 911.
The police threw two cans of pepper spray into the camper. Having gotten no response, one tried to open the door. He was greeted with a single gunshot and retreated immediately. After a few hours of trying to contact Scurlock, ERT officers in gas masks entered. They found the dead body of Scott Scurlock with a single bullet hole in his head.
Those closest to him were shocked. A construction worker. A man living in a treehouse who spent his afternoons hiking and biking. The most prolific bank robber in Washington's history, and one of the most successful bank robbers in America who, by the time of his death, was responsible for 17 robbed banks and about $2.3 million stolen. The Hollywood Bandit's reign came to an end just like a Hollywood film, leaving behind a story fit for the screen.
If you want to learn more about Scott Scurlock, read Ann Rule's Crime Files: Volume 5 entitled The End of the Dream: The Golden Boy Who Never Grew Up and Other True Cases.
'I'm Elena Gilbert, and this is 'Someone Knows Something', she concludes and clicks off the recording. Just as she's taking the headphones off, her doorbell rings...
Brushing the curtain back to see who it is, Elena smiles and immediately hurries to the door, flinging it open. His dark hair is a little ruffled, and she can't help but notice the unsettled look in his eyes. Still, his presence is breathtaking. Just being close to him feels warm and cozy, like climbing into a warm bed on a cold night. It feels like she's always home no matter where she might happen to be.
Elena waivers hesitantly in the doorway unsure of what to say to him. He's had the shock of his life, finding his brother alive and wanting to kill her for revenge must have been jarring for him. "I'm sorry, Damon," she whispers, then steps back so he can come inside.
Damon curls his fingers around the top of her arm as if to make sure he has her full attention, "You don't have to apologize. You're not to blame for any of this."
"It's not on your shoulders either," Elena proclaims. "You thought he was dead."
His face is shadowed with stubble. He walks out of the foyer and into the living room. Elena snaps the door shut and follows, finding him on the couch, leaning over with his face buried in his hands. He turns to look at her. She swallows thickly at how intense his pain appears.
"Damon, he's alive, right?"
Taking her hand between his, he rubs his finger over the pad at the base of her thumb. "Yes, he's alive. I hate having to keep him locked up, but I can't risk letting anything happen to you. I know without a doubt that Ric will follow through with his threat if he's allowed to roam free." Letting go, he flashes to her liquor cabinet to fill a full glass of bourbon before taking his place beside her again. He takes a long drink and shoots her one of his cocky smiles.
"I don't know if this is goodbye or not, Elena. I'm not going to lie, relationships between humans and vampires are anything but easy. Even so, I would have never asked you to turn for me," he says before he blows out a breath of air. "For the most part, I'm happy with who I am," Damon admits and sighs, pausing to empty his pour of bourbon.
He silences her when she starts to speak. He needs to put his thoughts into words. "Despite that, there are times I've missed being human, especially since you came along. I love you, and I want to be with you, Elena, but I know all too well the regret that inevitably follows when choosing to become a vampire."
"I'll admit that the thought of being a vampire scares me. I hope you understand that. I never wanted to hurt you, and I hate that I did. All that matters now is the two of us."
He shifts on the couch to face her, and the spark in his blue eyes ignites. "Are you telling me that your mind is open to vampirism? Maybe not now, but at some point?"
Elena takes his free hand this time. "If I had to give you an answer now, I would say absolutely not. Ten years from now, I can't say...I don't know if the day will ever come when I want to take that step..." she pauses for a moment before adding. "I do have some questions."
"Sure."
"How often do you have to drink blood? And do people ever willingly allow you to drink from them, or do you always do the snatch-eat-erase thing?"
"Yes, there are a few people who don't mind having their blood drawn. So few people know of the supernatural world, so the snatch-eat-erase is just easier, more convenient."
"Aren't you taking their free will from them?"
"Essentially, yes. We can drink from blood bags which is why Stefan stole all the blood from the hospitals. I can do that too, but I'd be taking blood from people who are in critical need of it. It's a dammed if I do, dammed if I don't scenario."
"Wait! He's the one who stole the blood? I had almost forgotten about that."
"Yes. I'm not making excuses for him, Elena, but when he's off his animal blood diet, he's like an addict in need of another fix. We aren't all like that, though. Most vampires, especially ones that have been around awhile, can control their hunger."
Elena stares at him for a moment, her mind going a mile a minute. "Um...how often do you have to feed?"
"We can easily survive on a pint a week. I prefer drinking it more often, but it's not necessary for my survival."
Elena sighs, taking it all in. "When you google "vampire" you get a world of fiction. What's the reality?"
"I can tell you whatever you want to know."
"Somehow sunlight's not an issue?"
"We have these rings." Damon takes his off and hands it to her. "The lapis lazuli stone protects us from turning to ash in the sun."
Elena stares at the stone, running her finger over the intricate design. "It's heavy."
"Yes, it has to be spelled by a witch to be effective."
She hands the ring back and he slides it onto his finger.
"Crucifixes? Holy water?"
"Decorative and drinkable."
"Mirrors?" Elena continues.
"Myth."
"And speed?"
"Yes, we're super-speedy." Damon winks at her.
"That Kai person mentioned that you turned off your humanity and tore through the Big Apple; his words. Is that really possible? And if so, how does turning it back on work?"
"That's complex, Elena. You can't turn it back on as easily. Once it's off, there is no incentive to turn it back on. Having said that, I knew of a vampire once who saw the illusion of her dead mother, and that's all it took for her to snap out of it. Usually, the trigger is something the vampire has a deep emotional attachment to. Does it always work? No," Damon tells her matter-of-factly.
"I can't say that I'll ever willingly choose to be a vampire, Damon, but what I do know is no matter what, I'll always choose you."
Damon inches closer, and then his lips are on hers. Tender, soft, and everything she wants as their mouths slide roughly against each other. Her lips part, and he pushes his tongue in and swirls it with hers. Within seconds, Elena's breathing grows heavy, and her hands make quick work of his t-shirt so she can roam her hands over his body.
"God, Elena," he mumbles against her skin as he lifts her into his arms, carries her into the bedroom, and lays her down. Without wasting a second, he unties the strings at her shoulders and pulls her dress down, throwing the frock haphazardly through the air. Next, her panties slide down her legs, and then he's inside of her.
His lips devour hers as he moves in and out. As his hips shift and he finds that perfect spot, she rips her mouth from his and cries out. Her breaths are coming out in serrated gasps as she feels herself teetering near the edge, knowing only a few more strokes will send her crashing into oblivion.
"I want all of you," he growls, his blue eyes burning the hottest fire.
As he drives in deeper, she struggles to see him through the haze of pleasure building within her. "I'm yours." She moans his name as his fangs pierce her skin causing her to shatter beneath him. With each draw of her blood, she crests a new wave of unbridled pleasure.
After one more deep draw, Damon dislodges his fangs and licks his lips. Without missing a beat, he picks up the pace, and seconds later he reaches his own climax. They tremble against each other for several minutes before he lets out a breath and drops a quick kiss to her lips. She notices her body is covered in sweat as he pulls out and rolls beside her.
She snuggles in next to Damon, laying her head on his chest before closing her eyes. Her arm rests on his stomach, and her fingers play with the tiny hairs on his chest. "I wonder why they say 'falling in love' when true, extraordinary love makes a person rise. You make me rise, Damon. I love you," Elena says softly, pressing her mouth against his skin.
She glances into the endless depths of his eyes; they're blue like the sea, crystal clear - shimmering, crashing, and churning. They widen slightly, but he doesn't say a word. His chest rises and falls in silence, in and out, as he searches her face for doubt. He won't find it. And she sees it - the wonderment drifting over his face.
Damon lowers his chin so his lips can join with hers. Elena eagerly responds as he brushes the tender skin of her lips with his rougher mouth. Then he kisses her and pulls her head to him tightly. He smells of bourbon and leather and sun. She feels dizzy, and her closed eyes see stars as her blood thunders through her.
He takes the air from her lungs when he breaks the kiss. His eyes are dark, his smirk in position as he runs his thumb over his bottom lip.
"You love me?" Damon asks as his lips brush hers.
"I do… I do love you…"
Elena sweeps his lower lip with her tongue and tugs with her teeth.
"You're going to be the death of me, woman," Damon groans.
And Elena grins.
A kiss, perfect and slow grazes her lips…
"So this is what it feels like?" Damon marvels. "My grandparents were married for 65 years. He told me once that true love is the most wonderful feeling yet at the same time it will be the hardest work you will ever do in your life. He was so right, Elena, it feels very human to be in love."
Elena pulls his mouth to hers. She draws little moaning noises from the back of his throat when she presses her body against his wantonly.
"I want you again." Damon tears himself away and begins to pressing his mouth above the swell of her breast. Elena arches, pushing tighter against him. He tastes her nipple, licking, teasing across the peak.
"Damon… please."
He hovers, gets into position, and wraps her leg around his thigh. Slowly pushing forward, he works with gentle, shallow thrusts.
"You're exquisite…" Damon murmurs. While moving to stroke deeper, he rests his forehead at her shoulder.
She whimpers as their bodies slide together.
Elena tightens her legs around his waist. "More… harder… faster."
Warmth rushes through her and she gasps.
"Fuck..." Damon shudders. Elena moans at the feel of them climaxing together.
"I love you, Elena."
Always...
Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favs. They're what inspires us to keep writing.
Thank you to Morgan and to Eva. They both recently updated their own stories. Eva- "Christmas Carol". Morgan- "Quarantine Olympics".
Chapter title: 'Strange Reality' by Savatage.
Have a fantastic day and we'll see you for chapter 21.