6
The Car and Michail
Clara texted Bonnie as she got ready for the day. She had woken up early and sketched a picture of Gregory before taking a quick shower. She pulled on a black t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. She smiled at a response from the other girl and headed down the stairs to witness Jenna glaring at the tv with the vengeance of a woman scorned.
"Scum ball," Jenna grumbled as she bit into an apple, "Scum bucket."
"Can I ask who you're talking about? Because I haven't done anything nearly that bad to earn those titles," Clara stated, and she got an apple thrown at her catching it with deft hands.
"Him," Jenna answered as she motioned towards the TV.
"He looks like a douche," Clara stated, and Jenna gave her a nod of approval.
"You learned well," Jenna quipped, "He's the reason why I moved away from Mystic Falls."
"Jeez, what a dick," She said as she bit into the apple thrown at her, "quick question. If I ever get a car, am I allowed to leave the state for road trips to just get away from this place?"
"Depends on where you go and if you'll give a heads up," Jenna answered.
"Unless it's sprung up on me last minute, no problem with the heads up," She said before giving her aunt a strange look, "cool aunt back in town?"
"Never left," Jenna smiled.
"Right, I'm going to hang out with my fair Bonnie," She informed her aunt, "I don't have a dress for the founder's party, or date but I can always go stag. I'm awesome like that."
Jenna smiled at that as Clara headed out of the house. It was nice to see her getting along with people. She remembered the girl who used other people and was heavily self-centred. She was glad she moved on from that girl. She even scared Jeremy into submission, which was impressive. He even respected her for some reason, and she couldn't weasel it out of him. That spoke volumes.
"Hello, Grams," Clara greeted the elder Bennet as she opened the door, "is Bonnie here?"
"Of course," Sheila answered as she ushered the girl in and motioned towards a door, "mind waking her up. She fell back asleep."
"No problem," Clara nodded and headed through the door Sheila motioned to.
Bonnie still had her phone in her hand and was clinging to a pillow. Clara smiled softly at the sight, and she felt a pang of guilt at the idea of waking her up. She tapped her chin slightly and thought of a non-obtrusive way to wake her up. She moved towards the blinds and quietly counted down from five.
"Rise and Shine," She sang, and a pillow was thrown at her.
She caught it with ease and held it in her arms as she laughed. Bonnie was giving her a half-hearted glare. The other girl got up from the bed and moved around. She was disoriented and trying to find something to wear that was perfect for the nice day, one where they were going to go shopping for dresses and get ready for a party. She shooed her friend out of her room and Sheila heard the laughter grow a bit louder.
"Sorry, it was the only thing I could think of," Clara apologized to Sheila, "I think it could be seen as a rude awakening."
"It's better than the alternative, like how your daddy woke you up," Sheila commented, and she watched as the girl paused and looked at her in confusion, "I know quite a bit about you, magic does give us heads up."
"I…I miss him," Clara quietly admitted, her voice cracked slightly with emotion and she tried to push it down.
"It's all right," Sheila quietly comforted as she put a hand on a tense shoulder, "he'd be proud of you. You always did the right thing."
"Sometimes the right thing isn't always the best," Clara said as she took in a calming voice, "I don't want to bother Bonnie with this today, it'd be nice to have a normal day without thinking about my memories or lack of them."
Sheila gave her a look before nodding her understanding. The girl made a good ally to the point where she was subconsciously looking out for her Granddaughters mental state. Once a leader, always a leader. She headed into the kitchen and grabbed the mugs of tea she had made for the girls. She put them on the dining table as Bonnie came out with a bag slung over her shoulder. She shot her friend a dirty look before sitting down and grabbing it.
"Hey, I could've gone the bugle and shouting route," Clara teased, "that would've woken you up pretty fast."
"But Rise and Shine?" Bonnie questioned.
Clara muttered, how was she supposed to tell her friend that she had been immersed in meme culture so she could talk to the younger adults that were in trouble. Ghosts didn't care how old someone was, or what generation they belonged to, they'd attack them. Same with most supernatural beings. Judging by vampires like Damon, they didn't care either. A natural predator, maybe in more than one way. She would hold her full judgment for a bit longer. She felt as though she'd done similar things in her past, but she couldn't be sure. Just how far would she go for information? She knew that she'd manipulate and lie for it, but would she enter a relationship for it? She had no earthly idea. She quietly told Bonnie about the fact that she punched Damon in the face. She didn't look pleased that he was hitting on her either.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think he somewhat likes you," Bonnie said, and she got a groan out of Clara.
"I would only ever entertain the idea of dating him if he apologised to Caroline and never did it again," Clara stated, "not asking for much."
"From someone like Damon, that's asking a lot," Bonnie pointed out and she nodded in agreement.
The finished their tea and thanked Shelia for it. Their mugs went into the sink and were rinsed, a pleasantly surprised Sheila giving them a smile before shooing them out. They needed to go and enjoy their day together. It was a nice change to not deal with Elena's boy problems for a while. They even picked up Caroline and the blonde gave Clara a hug.
"I dumped him," Caroline claimed, and Clara's brows rose in surprise, "I deserve better, and we can all go to the founders party together."
"Why'd he let you go?" Clara quietly asked.
"He just did," Caroline shrugged.
Clara studied her for a few seconds and started to wonder what Damon's game was. Caroline was telling the truth, she dumped Damon. He allowed her to. She wasn't compelled anymore, and there weren't any bites on her neck. That didn't sit right with her. He wouldn't have taken her words to heart, not with a single punch. He was playing the long game all right, she knew that from the start. He was trying to manipulate her into thinking he changed. She inwardly snorted, she knew better. She wasn't going to be swayed by small actions. He had a lot to own up to, and one of which was an apology to Caroline and a promise to not go after someone who wasn't a minor. That last one was a big deal. If he stopped going after the underage, then she might be a little more inclined to help him. And get him to leave Mystic Falls. She could go back to a peaceful life and train up a bit to start hunting.
Hunting? She looked at a red dress on the rack and moved past it. She would look too loud in red; she was better off in a blue, black, or silver. Nothing sleeveless due to the tattoo on her back, and something longer than mid-thigh. Now, that brought her back to the idea of hunting. She would leave the vampires alone, unless they really got out of control, but she would go after the demons and ghosts. If angels happened to show up, then that was perfect.
"What about this one?" Caroline asked as she held up a yellow dress.
"It'll look nice on you," Clara said, and she gave her a bright smile before going to try it on.
"You are so picky with your clothes," Bonnie teased as she watched her pick a blue and black dress off the rack and a silver and black one.
"If I wasn't, they would make me an easy target," Clara stated, "believe it or not, the straps have yet to get me caught."
Bonnie smiled at that and Clara headed into the changing room to try them on. She knew it might be a warm night, but she always enjoyed a sleeve. The quarter sleeve black and blue dress went below her knees and was a bit pleated and flowed from her waist. She picked at the skirt and wondered if it was the right call. She'd as the other two. Caroline was twirling in her yellow dress, obviously happy with it and she saw the door open in the mirror.
"Oh my god, that looks great," Caroline exclaimed as she eyed the dress and slightly messed with the lace of the Queen Anne neckline, "what does the other one look like? We can compare and see which one is better."
"This one makes her eyes appear lighter," Bonnie pointed out, "I think this one might be the winner."
"Let's try the silver one and see if it's a contender," Clara quietly said as she headed back into the changing room and got into the silver dress.
The sleeve was a bit longer, reaching mid-forearm, and skin-tight. She smoothed the front of her dress and looked at the gathered fabric at her hip, showing a black under dress. She wasn't the biggest fan of that. She exited the changing room and the two shook their heads at it. The colouring was perfect, but the cut wasn't great. She ended up getting the black and blue dress. Bonnie struggled for a while before Clara helped by finding an umber dress that was off the shoulder and ended at her knees. It was perfect and she loved it. A few pairs of heels were added to their outfits and they paid for everything.
"It's going to be a fun night, we can dance with anyone we want," Caroline stated with a smile.
"I just hope to god Damon isn't there," Clara said, "I don't want to chance him asking me to dance."
"Would you say yes?" Caroline asked with a frown.
"If he apologised to you and allowed you to wail on him, then maybe," Clara said with a shrug, "you are worth more to me than he is."
"Wording, Clara, wording," Bonnie informed her, "that sounded manipulative."
Clara made an apologetic face, though she didn't really feel it. It was manipulative, and she was aware of that. Her and Damon were cut from the same cloth, though had differing moral stances. She didn't like to deal with minors and exploit them while he seemingly had no problem with it. She believed in consent and he ignored it. She ran a hand through her hair and frowned in annoyance. Of course, whenever Damon appeared in a conversation her mind hyper focused on his actions and she was on the boundary of taking him down and letting him live. She tapped the bag carrying her dress on her shoulder and sighed quietly.
"I mean Damon told me all kinds of stuff," Caroline said, "I'm not supposed to tell Elena."
"Is it his dark and sad backstory?" Clara questioned.
"This is serious," Caroline said to her and she got a slight smile out of her friend.
"We won't tell Elena," Bonnie promised.
"All right, here it is," Caroline started the story.
Clara didn't trust the information that Caroline was giving them. Katherine played the brothers against each other, and it was still going on. One would give the wrong information if it meant to twist others to their side. Stefan was iffy on that; he just didn't say anything. He kept it to himself. He was nice, but he harboured heavy secrets. Heavier than his vampire secret. She looked at the nail polish that Bonnie had brought over. She picked out a blue and Bonnie shook her head before holding up black.
"Ah time to show my true emo side?" Clara joked and Bonnie shook her head.
"Elena, delicate flower or naughty vixen?" Bonnie asked as Clara began to paint her nails.
"Tough call, can we mix them?" Elena asked.
"Depends on the colour of your dress," Clara said, "what is it?"
"Red with orange and gold accents," Elena answered.
"Go with the gold," Bonnie said, and Clara nodded her agreement, "look at you, getting all pretty for your date. You seem happy-ish."
"I am ish," Elena admitted, "tonight's going to be a god night, but don't let that stop you from telling me whatever it is you wanted to tell me as soon as you walked in the door."
"Just Damon telling his version of the Katherine story to Caroline, who dumped him by the way," Clara informed her, and Bonnie sent her a look, "I didn't verbally promise her anything. He painted it as though Stefan was the bad guy the whole time, when really it was Katherine. It's obvious how they both talk about her."
"So, Damon lied," Elena said, and Clara raised her brows at that as she carefully finished the first coat on her left hand, "wait when were you left-handed?"
"Hmm?" Clara asked as she looked up.
"You're using your left hand for things," Elena pointed out before shaking her head, "maybe I'm imagining things."
"That could be possible," Clara said in a blank tone before grabbing at her soda and taking a swig of it, "anyway, we should just ignore Damon for now his backstory and relationship history is none of our business."
"Unless he's a calculating, manipulative liar," Bonnie pointed out, "that is our business."
"Not much we can do there," Clara stated as she sat back with a thoughtful expression on her face, "the first step to changing oneself is the need to change. I don't think he even thinks about those things."
"Deep." Elena said.
"I try."
Bonnie shook her head. As much as Clara snarks at Elena, she was protective of her family. She noticed that she seemed a bit distracted, more so than usual. They split up to do their makeup and Clara accompanied it with theatrics. Elena rolled her eyes as they used her bathroom. Bonnie wanted to know her opinion on her sisters change.
"So, what do you think about her change?" Bonnie asked as she primed her face.
"It's weird, but also nice," Elena admitted, "I just have a hard time believing that she could go from someone so self-centred to someone who has a moral compass. Did I ever tell you about the time that she stole money from our parents? She got grounded for two months."
"I can't see this Clara doing that," Bonnie said as she thought back to the girl who was moderately well mannered.
"Me neither," Elena admitted, "I just have trouble seeing as she grew a snarky side."
"She's funny," Bonnie stated.
"Sometimes."
Elena would never admit, but sometimes this new Clara seems to have a moral high ground. Sure, she had never been one of those girls that dated, or slept around. So, she knew that her sister had some right to it. Clara had loved the spotlight being on her, but sometimes she felt as though there was nothing. That her emotions were a façade, like she didn't truly feel them. It used to scare her a child, and even as a teenager.
Clara looked at her primed face with a sigh. She turned her attention to her eyeshadow and shook her head. She could tell that someone had entered her room. She opened the door to her bathroom and saw Damon sitting on her bed. She gained an annoyed expression on her face.
"Are you trying out for the nineteen thirties Dracula?" Damon questioned as she plucked the book out of his hands.
"Don't read this, it's glorifying abusive relationships not genuine BDSM," She said as she looked at the 50 Shades of Grey book in her hand and crinkled her nose at it, "what are you a horny soccer mom?"
"I'd make a cute soccer mom," Damon claimed.
"Keep telling yourself that," She muttered, "What do I owe the pleasure?"
"Take me to the founding families party?" He asked.
"No, and don't even think about asking Caroline," She threatened, "you've abused her enough."
"She broke up with me," He pointed out.
"And? Didn't know rape was abolished by a breakup," She scoffed, "I'd rather watch her beat you with a tire iron than go to the party with you. What's there that you want?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched and she could tell that he was holding his anger in. He didn't like having his mess-ups thrown in his face. She picked up her eye shadow and began to do her makeup, ignoring him. The book was thrown in the trash and she sat down at her vanity. She knew what to do, but gathered it wouldn't even be in style yet. She laid on the blue and silver eye shadow and did a soft fade.
"Is this why girls take so long to get ready?" Damon questioned.
"God, drink some respect women juice, will you?" She sarcastically questioned back, "Weren't you born in the eighteen hundreds?"
"Respect women juice," Damon muttered.
She picked up her phone and began texting Caroline and informed her that she was five minutes away from breaking Damon's nose. Her blonde friend wasn't happy to hear that her ex was trying to push her to bring him to the party, but was pleased to hear she refused. She respected Caroline, and knew that if anything was to happen between her and Damon it would be after Caroline got her justice. Oh, he'd never go to prison not with the ability to compel others. But she could always beat him into a pulp and have Caroline join her.
"Quick question," Clara said, and Damon looked up at her as he stopped messing with the teddy bear that he had procured somehow, "Do you never feel any remorse for the things you've done?"
"I try not to," He said, his tone both sarcastic and serious at the same time.
"Maybe you should," She said.
He made a strange face and frowned at her. She moved onto her eyeliner and carefully did it. The liquid liner was difficult to use at first, but she got used to it. She missed the eyeliner pen she used to have. It made doing her cat eye look easier. Damon was quiet as she drew the lines and finished it with some mascara.
"Did you know that you speak with a transatlantic accent?" Damon asked her.
"Not really, but you and everyone else seem to be focused on pointing these things out to me," She muttered.
"It's like listening to an old movie," He muttered.
She gave him a warning look and he got the strange sense of terror that Jeremy had a while back. If Bonnie were around, she'd have felt something coming from the girl. One would think it was hot, but it was like ice. Clara seemed to wince slightly as a jolt of pain went through her head. She ignored him for a few seconds before getting a new memory back. Her body was waiting for her. She needed to return to it.
"You look like someone on a mission," Damon commented.
"Oh, I need to find someone," She stated, her smile was dangerous as she looked at him, "that's all you're getting out of me. Now leave, I'd like to get into my dress without the peanut gallery."
He blinked at her, surprised by her audacity. She was dealing with a vampire as though he wasn't dangerous. He'd let her think that she had the upper hand. Clara cocked her head to the side and his body tensed slightly. Maybe there as a reason behind her audacity. He smirk and left her room and she smiled to herself. She could fight against Damon; he was emotionally driven. That could make him stronger, but not stronger than her. That was instinct.
She pulled on her dress and zipped it up. She didn't know the exact reasons behind her memory. She knew that she was strong and that she could heal fast, but that was it. There was more she wasn't sure of that she could do, but she'd figure it out. She cracked her knuckles before sitting on her bed and putting on her heels. Roman straps, with a thick heel. Perfect for running in. Stiletto's made excellent weapons, but she couldn't really walk in them.
"Oh my god, you look beautiful," Jenna said as she watched her niece walk down the stairs, "you look respectable."
"Until she opens her mouth," Jeremy joked, and Clara grinned at that.
Yes, this was her baby brother. Clara Gilbert was her, the name was different, but this was her body. She let her hands rest at her side and quickly walked up behind him. He was still a bit taller than her, but he flinched slightly at the sudden appearance of his scarier sister. She was fast in those heels.
"Are you heading up now?" Jenna asked as Clara finished her last-minute makeup which was some lipstick.
"Yeah, I want to beat the crowds," Clara said, a slight smile on her face.
She'd tell Bonnie what she figured out before the end of the night unless she had to deal with Damon. She did not want to deal with him, not for a second time. She headed out the front door and came face to face with her car. She was confused for a few seconds before walking up to it. She tucked her party invitation under her arm and held a hand out to touch the slightly warm metal. She opened the car door and cold smell the scent of her fathers after shave. This was his car before it was her's. She quickly shut the door and took in a deep breath. Who left her car here? How did they get this car here? She finally took note of a small piece of paper tucked under one of the windshield wipers.
"An apology for not being in touch," She quietly read, "Michael, you son of a bitch."
The handwriting was so recognizable. She had worked with Michael for years, another memory that filtered through without the agonizing pain that typically accompanied them, she knew his handwriting like her own. She put the note into the car and grabbed the keys from the visor. It still had her charm on them, the turquoise showing her favourite colour. She moved to the trunk and frowned in thought. There should be something in there. She unlocked it and opened it. She felt around the carpeted area and found the little indent. Her fingers pried it open and inside were weapons. Stakes, iron rods, guns, and canisters of salt. She picked up a flask and noted the cross on it. Ah, she had holy water. She had everything she needed to start hunting again. This was planned, not an apology from Michael. He wanted her back in business, but he couldn't force her to. That little pesky thing called free-will truly made things fun. She spotted a book and quickly pulled it out before grabbing a small trinket. A bracelet, where she could put things into it. She was going to find some vervain and give it to Caroline. She'd find some use for it. After all, she herself couldn't be compelled.
She got into the front seat of the car and sat there for a few seconds before starting it. It let out a delicious purr and she sat there listening to it. The nostalgia was strong, and she wanted to stay, but if she was late Jenna would give her hell. She pulled into the road and began driving to the Lockwood manor. It was such a short drive, but one that helped her to get over the smell in the car. She needed to see if all the insurance and details for the car were in her name. She didn't want to get accused of stealing it, and the only other person who had a car similar to hers was Damon. She parked upon reaching her destination and quickly rummaged about in the glove department.
Drivers license, insurance card, and car register was all in her name. Clara Amelia Gilbert was written on all the information. Michael didn't have to give her such a gift, but he did. She should be angry, but it was one of the things she wanted back. She noticed the appreciative looks sent towards her car and she got out of it. Her invitation in hand. She should've known that Damon would appear and give her that trademark smirk of his.
"I could just tell them you aren't my date," She pointed out, "because I don't want to deal with you."
"Relax, I just want in I'll leave you alone…for the most part," He rolled his eyes.
"Fine," She relented.
It wasn't worth him threatening to kill a bunch of innocent people. She left her vampire stakes in the trunk and couldn't get them without seeming suspicious. She didn't take his arm when he offered it and simply raised a brow. They walked to the party, and she started to feel her body tense at all the staring. Sure, she knew she was pretty but this much staring was unneeded. Was it due to her wearing a dress after wearing her tactical clothes? That was the most probable reason. She needed to cut down on the vanity.
"Hello, Mayor Lockwood," She greeted as they stopped in front of the entrance.
"Hey, come on in," The mayor smiled.
Clara waited for a few seconds before making sure they were out of ear shot, "what a douche bag."
"Such colourful language for a lady," Damon commented.
He got a jab to the side and she walked off with an annoyed look on her face. He rubbed at his side with a grimace. She could do damage to him, and he hated it. Just what was this girl? Well, she was certainly more interesting than her sister. Elena was too goody two shoes for him, the other one seemed darker though still had one hell of a moral high horse. That had to be a Gilbert trait.
"You clean up nice," Matt Donovan commented as Clara walked by.
"Hey Matt," Clara greeted, "How's everything going?"
"He's still pining for your sister," Tyler Lockwood answered for the blonde.
"Sorry," Matt apologised.
"Don't be, he's a dick," She stated in a cool tone.
"Seriously, first Jeremy and now you," Tyler stated as he shot her a glare, "are all Gilbert's punks?"
"No, we just have good taste," She said as her eyes dangerously narrowed.
Matt stepped in and quickly lead her away before Tyler could start a physical fight with her. Clara let him manoeuvre her all the way to the dessert table. He picked up a piece of cake and handed it to her. She reluctantly accepted it.
"Seriously, what did Tyler do?" Matt asked.
"Besides beat up my baby brother?" She sarcastically asked before gaining an apologetic look, "He's a dick, I know he's your best friend but dang."
"I know he is, I've been trying to work with him on it," Matt admitted.
"I'm going to go cool off by waking around with a whole plate filled with pastries," She informed him as she grabbed a larger plate and placed more sweets on it, "it's a quiet retaliation."
"It's better than a physical fight," Matt said as she also grabbed some cider.
"The ants will do my biding," She cryptically said before walking off.
He paused for a few seconds. What did she mean by that? He hoped she wasn't about to place food in areas where it would never be found. That would be a good way to get back at someone, but it'd be punishing Mrs. Lockwood who'd always been nice to him. He contemplated rushing after her to change her mind, but decided against it. She probably won't do it. She was nicer than before, but seemingly more petty and a bit vindictive.
Clara found herself looking at her family items on display. She didn't really feel anything while looking at them, but they were pretty. She bit into a strawberry and quietly walked around. She had gotten more than one dirty look at her uncouth manner. They should be glad she wasn't chewing with her mouth open or making obnoxious noises. She was also a clean eater so she felt oddly insulted.
"Nice, they signed the original registry," She muttered as she looked at the names on the historic relic.
"Of course," Damon said as he appeared, she didn't even react, "you've been causing an uproar by walking a round with a plate full of dessert."
"It'd be boring to just stand at the dessert table and act like I like anyone here," She shrugged, "well, there's a few people I do. You aren't one of them by the way."
"You know what to say to compliment someone," He stated.
"What can I say, it's a gift." She quipped as she bit into another strawberry, "You find what you were looking for?"
"I did," He confirmed.
"Great."
It was silent between the two of them, save for the soft chewing sounds coming from a still eating Clara. Apparently, that was her third plate of food. He wondered where it all went. She was so thin, and seemingly a bottomless pit. It was impressive. She ate another strawberry and took a sip of her cider.
"Do you want to dance?" He asked.
"Fuck no," She answered, and he wasn't even surprised by the immediateness of it, "You abuse Caroline and you expect me to dance with you?"
"You talk to me, I thought I could give it a shot," He shrugged.
"I thought you were smarter than that," She commented in a sarcastic tone, "I'm not easily swayed by a sweet ass."
She was blankly staring at him as she stabbed a fork into a piece of cake and took a bite out of it. Her nose crinkled and she stared at it for a few seconds. The taste was off, herby. Vervain. She contemplated shoving it down Damon's throat, but decided against it.
"Don't eat the cake," She warned him in a quiet voice, "it's laced with Vervain."
"Why the warning, you hate me." He pointed out.
"I like car-bro," She said, "he's also dating my sister and therefore falls under my code of protection, section five paragraph three."
"I can't tell if you're joking or not," Damon admitted.
"Partially, the code of protection is an actual thing," She said, before frowning as she caught something in the corner of her eye, "was anyone walking around wearing a hoop skirt?"
"No, not the right century," He answered.
She bit her cheek in thought. She could've sworn she saw a hoop skirt. She picked at the cake before frowning at it. She hated the fact that someone bastardised cake like this. Rosemary in cake could work, but not too much and always paired with something sweeter. She was tempted to toss it behind one of the plants that had cobwebs on it.
"Who does this to cake?" She grumbled, "I'd go and grab a parfait but I think people are starting to worry about how much I eat."
"Like a black hole," He agreed.
She snorted at that and he smirked. At least there was some friendly conversation between them. She didn't like him but was conversing with him in a polite manner. She could hide her dislike when she wanted to. She moved away from him and tossed the laced cake before putting her dirty dish with the others. She sighed quietly to herself and he raised a brow. She seemed preoccupied with something.
"Hey, Clara!" A male voice greeted her and a man with sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes walked up to her.
"Michael?" She asked in surprise, "How the hell you've been?"
"Good, let's take a walk and reminisce," Michael said and she cocked her head to the side an obvious gesture that showed she was wondering something.
"Have a nice night, Damon," She quietly said and she linked arms with her friend.
Damon wiggled his fingers in a sarcastic wave and she rolled her eyes. She wasn't talking with her friend but waiting to hear what was said. He was so tempted to follow and listen in, but Elena and Stefan walked in and he would rather mess with them. They were so sweet together it was sickening.
"Why'd you give me my car back?" Clara asked Michael, her voice serious and showing she meant business.
"Because we want you to go after monsters again," Michael said, "though, I'd rather just play poker."
"How's Lucy doing?" She asked.
"Fine, just how much do you remember?" He finally questioned.
"Hell, my father, and certain cases," She answered, "why?"
"Oh, that deal you made was absolute," He said as he finally looked at her, "you have no idea what deal I'm talking about."
"I'm sorry," She apologise with a slight shrug.
"Don't be, you did the right thing," He muttered, "it was dumb, but the right thing."
"What did I do?" She asked.
"You stopped a whole town from being sacrificed," He answered, "we still don't know what that necromancer wanted with it, but you doing that made him disappear."
"It might've been an immortality spell or creation of a philosophers stone," She thoughtfully muttered.
"Look at you, drawing on those hunter instincts," He teased with a boyish grin, "that guy back there, a friendly vampire?"
"No, but his brother is dating my twin," She answered.
"Ah the Schmidt code of protection," He laughed, "missed that."
"So, why is it two thousand and nine?" She quietly asked.
"We had to send you backwards to factor in the amount of time you were in hell," He shrugged, "you spent a thousand years in hell."
"Oh, fun," She said as she ran a hand through her hair, "at least you're honest."
A thousand years. No wonder it was the first thing she remembered. She swallowed thickly and felt her body shake slightly. She couldn't even fathom a thousand years. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she was having trouble staying calm. Michael watched as panic set in on her face. This was why they made sure her emotions wouldn't be that strong at first.
"A thousand years in hell twists the soul," he informed her, "yours needs to heal, and it might take a long time."
His eyes flickered towards the window where he could see the man she was talking to before he got her attention. Icy blue eyes caught his own and he winked slightly. The man looked affronted and moved away from the window. He turned his attention back to Clara who was slowly falling to her knees. She wasn't there with him anymore, trapped in that hell scape. A thousand years was a long time.
"You'll never be normal," He informed her all traces of joking around gone from his face as he knelt in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders, "I'm excited to see what you picked up down there, you're only tortured for a hundred years before becoming the torturer."
She looked genuinely horrified. Oh, he had missed that expression on her face. Once she got used to the killing involved with hunting that little genuine remorse and humanity would be gone. The witches she alined herself with couldn't do much to stop it, but it would be amusing to watch them try. He stepped back with a slight smirk on his face, he couldn't wait to see his friend back to how she was. He vanished from the spot and Clara stared at the spot he'd been.
"That bastard," She muttered as she felt tears going down her face.
The memories she was getting back weren't even her choice. They were picked and chosen by angels. All that confidence she felt from gaining back who she was, was extinguished. Her body trembled slight and she clenched the skirt of her dress into her hands. She could feel the cold on her skin, but she wasn't going to move.
"Clara?" A voice called and she looked back to see Bonnie.
Bonnie looked at the expression on her friends face and she rushed towards her side. She enveloped her in an embrace and she could feel the sobs wracking her frame. She was getting the pieces through broken sentences and she was pissed. No wonder her friend didn't speak highly of the angels. She gently rubbed a hand against Clara's back.
"The sad thing is, I was never the person I pretended to be," Clara admitted, "I remember hating myself, because I was only good at hunting because I had to be."
"Tell me more of what was given back," Bonnie said as she took a seat next to her friend.
"My car was physically given back, do you need a ride?" Clara stated and Bonnie nodded, getting a small smile out of her, "I remember my father figure, Gregory Schmidt. He saw me at an orphanage and adopted me, raised my like I was his own and taught me all I know about hunting."
"He sounds like a great guy," Bonnie said.
"He was, went to every sport event I had and taught me how to play guitar," Clara smiled at the memory, "his boyfriend was a nice guy as well, taught me how to cook and knit. They gave me a great childhood, the best they could."
"What happened to them?" Bonnie asked.
"His boyfriend, Mark Browning, was killed by an angel," She answered, "Dad…he went down on a hunt against a vengeful spirit. It tossed a stake through his chest. Never got to call him dad to his face, that's my biggest regret."
Bonnie watched as she tried to stop herself from crying. Her face scrunched up and her eyes glistened. She was not a pretty crier, but she didn't know anyone who was. She heard a watery chuckle and looked at her.
"My car came from him, it still smells like his aftershave," Clara informed her, "all my tools of trade are in the trunk."
"Can I see?" Bonnie asked.
"Maybe not around the mayors house," Clara joked, "If you're ready to leave, I can take you home now and show you."
Bonnie agreed to that and they headed to her car. She grinned at the sight of the black car and noticed the sleek paint. It was newer, no scratches showing on it. She could smell the aftershave that was masculine and oddly homely. The drive was smooth and Clara was a decent driver. She wasn't even aware of time moving as Clara gave her control of the radio.
"You know what's sad, Bonnie?" Clara asked at a stop sign, "Damon and I are cut from the same cloth, but we have different moral codes."
"Don't even think that," Bonnie said.
"No, it's true," Clara stated and her tone caught Bonnies attention, "we kill and we hunt, we're predators but I pretend not to be one. What moral high ground do I have to lecture him?"
"The none rapist kind," Bonnie bluntly stated.
"God, I would pay to watch Caroline beat the shit out of him as justice," Clara smiled, "she deserves to."
"Don't give her any ideas," Bonnie warned, "but I agree with you."
Clara nodded at that and she pulled up to Sheilas house. They got out of the car and Clara opened the trunk for her and showed the secret compartment. She looked at her friend as she picked up a metal stake.
"It's tidy," Bonnie commented, "everything has a place."
"Yep, easy grabbing for certain cases," Clara shrugged before she squinted, "there's something else in there, I didn't notice it earlier."
Her fingers pinched a piece of photo paper and she pulled it out. She stared at it for a few seconds before showing it to Bonnie. Bonnie took it and stared at it. She could pick Clara out of the crowd with ease. She was the same, but her expression was softer than usual. Two men had their arms over her shoulders and grins were on their faces. Michael stood to the side with a slimy grin on his face. An older gentleman looked at Clara with pride.
"I…I don't think Michael knew that was in the trunk," Clara quietly stated, "the older man is my dad. The two men are good friends, the one on my right is Gabriel the arch angel and one of my old poker buddies, the other is Alex he works with Native American reservations to help the monsters that appear on them."
"Had one hell of a temper, but was a good man. Never raised a hand to anyone, even when angry. The tactics I used on Jeremy I learned from him. He used to go to the gym for three hours a day to work out his anger and frustration."
"Did the picture bring back memories?" Bonnie asked as she looked at her nostalgic friend.
"It did," Clara nodded, "I can say that you are my first and only best friend…also, don't tell anyone. But I always wanted to be an older sibling."
"Why?" Bonnie asked as the stake was put back and they closed the compartment before the trunk itself.
"I wanted to pass on my wisdom to someone," She answered with a slight smile as the photograph was handed back to her, "Jeremy might find it fun to learn how to box and throw people over his shoulder."
"He'll use it against Tyler," Bonnie pointed out.
Clara didn't respond to that and Bonnie lightly swatted her arm. She was walked to the door and she smiled. It was oddly gentlemanly, and nice. Clara smiled at her before heading back to her car the second that Bonnie was inside. She drove back home and parked on the street. How was she going to explain a car to Jenna? She sighed and got out, grabbing the items out of the front seat, and locking the doors. She headed to the house and unlocked the door. She was happy to feel the warm air brush against her face.
She headed up to her room and placed the photograph against the lamp on her bedside table. She paused for a few seconds before smiling sadly. She closed the window and latched it. She'd put salt down, but that'd be going overboard. She headed into her bathroom and removed her tear streaked makeup. Her dress came off and she sighed quietly.
"Wish I could wear these more often," She muttered to herself.
She would like to be able to dress femininely, but that would never be a reality. Not anymore. She put it on a hanger and changed into her pyjamas before brushing her teeth. Normality would never be in her grasp again. If she wanted it, then she'd have to kill Micheal. She was loathe to do so, she wasn't strong enough. She cared too much. She finished her nightly routine and headed to bed, this time reading the book she found.
Dates and information came at her. A hunters journal, detailing cases and memories she wanted to write down. She smiled at some of the entries with her father and mark. She missed them, she truly did. She closed the journal as her eyes grew heavy. Her dreams were most likely going to be of hell again, but she could handle it. A thousand years, she was older than anyone around her. Older than Damon. That was strange to think about. She closed her eyes and ignored that thought. She wanted a decent nights rest, maybe one night she could use medicine for that. She could always claim night terrors. She let her mind blank and fell asleep. Hell awaited her, this time she wasn't the one in pain but the face of an old woman stared up at her in pain and fear. She woke up with her heart hammering in her chest and her muscles seizing. She couldn't scream for Jenna or Jeremy.
She fell out of bed and her muscles relaxed. She was breathing heavily and her whole body hurt. Her head tilted back until it was resting on the floor. She let her body relax before she returned to bed. She wasn't going to allow the angels to win, she was going to get that decent nights sleep.