Damon's hair in the first few episodes was so fluffy. I adore it, and that's how I envision it staying tbh. Vamps don't age, but humans do so he keeps the same looks as he did in the beginning fluffy hair and all.
12
Georgia Trip
"Where are we?" Clara questioned as she looked out the window in a groggy manner, "Are we in Georgia?"
"How are you able to tell that by sight?" Damon asked as she sat up in her seat.
"I've been everywhere in this country and several places in Europe," She stated, "you start to learn the different states."
He raised a brow at that and turned the radio up. They were still at odds, but at least she wasn't hurting him every time she saw him. She ran a hand down her face and brushed some glass pieces stuck to her skin. She looked annoyed at them as they slightly cut her skin and it healed automatically. Her healing had impressed him, he wasn't going to lie about that.
"Why are we in Georgia?" She asked him, "Does it have anything to do with a case I have that's near here?"
"How do you have so many cases?" He questioned.
"I've been putting them off for thanksgiving weekend," She shrugged, "get them all in one go and get paid for it."
"Of course, you would," He muttered as he turned on an exit.
"You know anything about the vamp I hit?" She asked him, "Because I haven't seen them around before."
"That's what I would like to know," He answered, "it's not like we all hang out at the Vamp bar and grill."
"Wasted opportunity," She pointed out as she searched for her phone.
It wasn't on her person and she slowly turned to face Damon. He tried to ignore her stare. She wouldn't dare, he was driving. She wouldn't cause another car accident. Would she?
"Do you really want to be frisked by me that badly?" She asked him, "Like I know I'm good looking, but this is ridiculous."
"In your dreams, Artemis," He smirked.
"No, those are mostly hellish," She said with a frown before she held out her hand.
The smart ass put his hand in hers. She paused for a few seconds before a pleasant smile appeared on her face. He wasn't going to survive their little trip if he continued his antics when she wasn't in the mood. He released her hand, he didn't want to ask how she kept her hands from being overly callused, and placed her phone in it. She flipped it open and quickly dialed a number. She needed to tell Jenna that she was on a surprise road trip. It would be short, and she'd be careful.
"Where are you?" Jenna asked the moment she answered her phone.
"Surprise road trip," She answered as she wiped at some of the crusted blood on her face, "are you okay?"
"Elena said that the car was totaled," Jenna hissed, "where are you?"
"Georgia," She said, "I'm okay though, don't worry Aunt Jenna."
She heard some grumbling before Jenna sighed. Of she strained her hearing she could hear Jeremy talking in the background. Were they waiting for her to come home? A part of her was touched, but also a little incensed. She was a grown woman and could take care of herself. She caught sight of her reflection before frowning. No, she wasn't. She was a seventeen-year-old girl who had bitten off more than she could chew.
"Just come home safely," Jenna relented, "out of the three of you, I trust you not to do something stupid."
Clara smiled slightly at Jeremy and Elena's sounds of disbelief. She hummed her acknowledgment before saying goodbye. She just wanted to make sure that Jenna knew she would be out for a while. She didn't want to get those privileges revoked. She hung up after a little while and put her phone in her jean pockets. She mulled over her options. She could stay with Damon and see what he needed and get a free ride out of him or she could go and walk to her hunt. It didn't help that she could really pinpoint where she was. Demons, that was the case in Georgia. They were taking humans and trafficking them. She was told to put a stop to them. She knew that meant killing the demons, she'd been around long enough to know that. She would stick with Damon and hope that she ran into the demons.
"What's going on in your head?" Damon questioned, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"That's classified," She said with a strange expression, "what does it matter?"
"You have a tendency to overthink, it makes wrinkles appear on your face," He said.
She peered at him through her peripherals. He was masking the fact that he cared with sarcasm. She inwardly scoffed at that. It wasn't enough. Nothing he could do would be enough to make her trust again. She turned her attention back to the window and watched as they drove past a few farms.
"We're almost there," Damon said as he looked at a few of the traffic signs.
"Where is there?" She questioned, "I'm out of the loop here Damon."
"A little place right outside of Atlanta," He answered as he sent her a smirk, "or would you rather go back to the drama of your not-twin sister and Stefan?"
"I think I can handle drama," She muttered, "why does everyone think I can't?"
"Look," Damon started getting her attention, and glare as well, "Step away from your life for five minutes. Five minutes!"
"I can't," She quietly admitted.
"What the hell did you go through that made you incapable of relaxing?" He asked and she went quiet at that, "besides the years in hell."
"Every time I relax someone dies," She informed him, "I learned my lesson after…"
She trailed off at that and he finally looked at her. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn't good. Her mind was stuck on the memory of her father's death. She couldn't move past it, no matter how much she tried. His death was her fault because she had been careless. She knew better now. She wouldn't make that same mistake. She crossed her arms across her chest, and she stared ahead at the road. Damon pulled over to the side of the road and she raised a brow.
"You can't keep doing that," He said as he frowned.
"Doing what?" She asked as she made a face, "Not giving you information?"
"No, withdrawing into yourself," He pointed out, "every time you get close to saying something personal you withdraw."
"So do you," She said, her glare lessening.
"Right, five minutes," He said, "try and leave behind your drama with your family and the impersonal nature of hunting."
"You really don't believe in hunters, do you?" She asked with mock amusement.
"I don't, it doesn't sound plausible," He said.
"You're over a hundred years old, and yet you can't believe that there might be more supernatural creatures than you?" She questioned in disbelief.
"Other than your supernatural abilities and your little angel friends no," He said, "I've never seen anything that spoke of anything else."
"You probably have, but never really noticed it," She said, "there were a few reapers that hung around the battlefields of the civil war, fresh souls and horrible medical practices make for ripe pickings."
"Anything else?" He sarcastically asked.
"Demons, they made deals with certain soldiers to win wars but would then send the soldiers out to be devoured by hellhounds in the next one," She answered, "I wouldn't wish that on anyone, it's not fun."
"You were devoured by a hellhound," He commented, "that sounds impossible."
"What do I need to do? Hunt down the demons in Atlanta I need to take care of and bring them to you?" She asked with a sarcastic tone.
"Sure," He shrugged, "they don't exist."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to fight the urge to hit him outside the head. She shook hers instead and looked back towards the landscape. It was pretty, she always did like the countryside more than the city. It was the plants, and the feeling of being enveloped by nature. She heard a light scoff coming from Damon and she sent him a dirty look.
"Why'd you choose blue for your room?" He asked, changing the topic to something safer.
"It's my favourite colour," She stated with a shrug, "that particular shade is one I'm fond of. I like Cornflowers, they're very pretty."
"Those aren't indigenous to North America," He said, and she seemed surprised at his knowledge of plants, "I've been around long enough to learn flowers, remember those were a big deal when I was human."
"Ah yes, the Victorian age of romance," She said with a slight smile, "I would've hated it during that time, no offense."
"You would've hated any time after the nineteen fifties, well, maybe not the seventies," He muttered.
"Hm, the age of rock yeah I would've enjoyed it," She agreed, "what are you doing Damon?"
"I'm not doing anything," He said, his tone declaring his innocence.
"It feels like you're trying to get on my good side," She pointed out as he came into the city, "I'm not that easy."
"Five minutes," He said, reminding her of what he said previously, "give me the rest of this road trip and see if you still feel the same."
"Until the next time you pull the same stunt and anger me," She bluntly stated., "it's not a good cycle."
She had a point. He parked the car outside of the bar he would find his answers. He held out a hand to stop her from leaving the car and the distrustful look she sent him was scalding. She was hearing him out, so his attempt to gain favor back was working a bit.
"I'm sorry," He apologized, though his expression showed that he didn't like doing so.
"Good for you," She said as she got out of the car and looked up at the bar with slight curiosity.
Damon frowned and his jaw clenched before he got out as well. He went to stand next to her and mimicked her pose. The arms across the chest was such a teenager move. She spared him an annoyed look. He was waiting for her to ask.
"What?" She asked.
"Are you always a moody teenager?" He questioned, "Or is it the sweater full of holes?"
"I'd say bite me but that would be an invitation to you," She sarcastically told him, "please remember that I tear up floorboards with my bare hands."
"Duly noted," He said before offering her his arm.
Sometimes he truly hated the years of etiquette he had to learn when he was human. It made him seem out of love when it showed up. The confused expression on Clara's face showed that she'd never been offered an arm before. She declined it and slowly moved towards the bar, opening the door upon reaching it. He rolled his eyes and followed. The owner looked up from the glass she was cleaning, and a wide smile stretched across her face. The woman was obviously happy to see him.
"It can't be, Damon," The woman said as she walked out from behind the bar, "My honey pie."
"Unfortunate nickname," Clara mumbled under her breath as he was brought into a kiss by the woman.
She couldn't help but be amused by the nickname. Damon was anything but a honey pie unless he was a lot nicer when he met the woman. She doubted that. Though, if he was, she would like to know what happened. She ran a hand through her hair as the woman prolonged the kiss. Did Damon even need to breathe? She had a few questions for the vampire, she didn't know everything about them since she didn't really hunt them. Oh, she knew the history, but the needs of a vampire were something different. The woman finally elf go of his face and he seemed a bit relieved by that.
"Listen up everybody!" The woman announced, "Here's to the man that broke my heart, crushed my soul, destroyed my life, and ruined any and all chances of happiness!"
"What the fuck, Damon?" Clara quietly asked him as shots were poured and one was placed in her hand.
"Drink up!" The woman yelled and everyone did.
Clara put the empty glass down on the bar and shuddered slightly. Vodka was not one of her favourites. How anyone could drink the stuff, she would never know. The woman noticed her and tilted her head in curiosity.
"So, how'd he rope you in?" She asked.
"I hit another vampire with my car," Clara answered with a shrug, "I'm actually quite mad at him, my names Clara by the way it's nice to meet you."
"You aren't one of his usual crowd, you have manners," The woman said with a smile as they shook hands, "I'm Bree, the bar owner."
Bree paused as though in a trance and her brows furrowed a bit before a sympathetic expression appeared on her face. An ally of a Bennett witch, and with a hint of magic of her own. The teen in front of her was one of the best people to show up in her bar. She got more information and her expression increased. She saw what was bothering her the most.
"I'm sorry about your daddy," Bree apologized to the girls obvious surprise, "you've been thinking about him quite a bit."
"Yes, I have," Clara quietly admitted, "witch?"
"Not as powerful as your friend, but quite skilled," Bree said, "enjoy your time here honey."
Clara and Damon took seats up at the bar and he looked between the two of them. Witches seemed to like the girl next to him. She nervously tapped her fingers against the bar. It was to the tune of the song playing. Land of confusion and she was tapping rhythmically, like a musician.
"How'd you meet Damon?" Clara asked Bree.
"College," She answered with a small smile.
"Ah," Clara quietly hummed before turning to Damon, "I thought you didn't do the whole school thing."
"I don't, but that doesn't mean I can't go onto a campus," He said, smiling.
"About twenty years ago, when I was a sweet, young freshman, I met this beautiful man, and I fell in love," Bree told Clara as she regained the girl's attention. "And then he told me about his little secret, made me love him more. Because, you see, I had a little secret of my own that I was dying to share with somebody, and you already guessed it."
Clara pondered that story. Beautiful? Damon? Well, she supposed that he was. The eyes were nice to look at. Granted, she was partial to the colour blue. She got so deep in her own thoughts as she tried to understand the strange tightness in her chest. Bree watched with raised brows before turning to Damon.
"She get like this often?" Bree asked.
"All the time," He confirmed.
He watched as the cute nose crinkle that Clara did when she was slightly confused or annoyed, appeared on her face. He couldn't tell if she was annoyed. She then dropped out of her own head as though she concluded that it didn't really matter. He wondered what her thought process was like. He turned to Bree and the woman gained a mischievous glint to her eyes.
"He is good in the sack, isn't he?" Bree asked Clara, "But mostly he's just a Walk-Away Joe." [to Damon] So, what is it that you want?
Clara's cheeks turned a bright red as she fumbled for a reply to that. Her greatest weakness, someone pointing out the nonexistent sex life she had. What was it with people pointing that out? Did she need to start going around with a shirt that said virgin on it? The idea of doing that made her cheeks darken even more as she covered her face in embarrassment. Bree chuckled softly at the sight and turned her attention towards Damon's reaction. He seemed greatly amused by her sudden shyness of the topic.
"Please excuse me for a few minutes," Clara quietly said with a pleasant smile.
Bree nodded while smiling back. That girl was having trouble meeting anyone's eyes. She headed outside and pulled a phone out of her pockets, she dialed a number and put it up to her ear. Bree turned towards Damon and waited for him to tell her why he was there. He gave her a flirtatious smirk and she shook her head in amusement. She didn't want to be pulled into the problem of vampires, not even Damon could easily sway her.
"Jeremy, I need you to go into my Grimoire," Clara quietly said into the receiver as Jeremy answered with a mumbled hello.
"Hello to you too," Jeremy greeted, "so, when we're you gonna tell me you're pretty much indestructible?"
"When I figured it out," Clara told him, "I didn't really know if I could survive such wounds, small things yes. The wounds I got from the car accident were pretty bad, I'm not going to sugar coat it."
"Yeah, Elena said you were heavily bleeding last time she saw you," Jeremy muttered as he opened a door, "where'd you even put it?"
"Oh, it's in the bathroom," she answered, "under the sink."
She heard an affirmative grunt and a small smile appeared on her face. She couldn't help but be fond of her brother. He was a good kid, when he wasn't completely angst filled. She ran a hand through her hair and dropped it down to her shoulder. She could feel one of the holes in the sweater. Her skin was smooth against her palm, but she couldn't help but be uneasy at that thought. It should be bumpy and painful to even put pressure on.
"Okay, I found it," Jeremy said, "what did you need?"
"Read up on poltergeist," She said, "a hunters Grimoire is much different than a witches. Ours is an encyclopedia of the different supernatural creatures we come across; it also details how to defeat them."
"Oh, cool," He said, and she could hear the slight excitement in his voice, "do I need to start keeping one?"
"If you want, you get to do all the research for your information," She teased him, "I know a few good sources, they should be written down somewhere in there."
She took a seat on the curb and overlooked the road as Jeremy muttered the words she wrote. She wondered if he knew that he was still on the phone. Her eyes moved side to side as she categorized the different supernatural creatures walking the streets. Skinwalker. Shifter. Vampire. Vampire. Angel. Demon. She stopped on the demon and the corners of her mouth tilted down.
"Christus." She mumbled under her breath.
The demon twitched and looked around the area. She didn't look around, but stared it down. Her expression was stony as Jeremy continued to speak. She drowned out his reading with her own thoughts. They were buzzing about in her head; she couldn't ignore them. Demon remove them from inside. Her gaze was fixated on them and she felt like something was moving under her skin. It was unnatural, and something she was becoming too aware of now that she survived that car accident.
"Need me to go?" She asked Jeremy, "Because you seem pretty into the reading."
"Oh, shit yeah," Jeremy said, and she heard his slight embarrassment, "sorry to keep you on the line like that."
"It's all right, Jer," She said, "See you when I get back."
"Take care," He said before hanging up on her.
She flipped her phone shut and tapped it against the palm of her other hand. The demon had evacuated the area, but she knew that there was more. She turned her head and looked up when she heard footsteps next to her. Damon peered down at her and cocked a brow up.
"You okay?" He questioned.
"I'm fine, but thank you for acting as thought you care," She quietly said.
"Seriously," He muttered before sitting down next to her, "you said you'd give me a second chance."
"I didn't say that," She corrected, frowning a little bit, "I'm hungry, you hungry?"
"Always thinking with your stomach," He said with an annoyed sigh, "I can hook you up with Bree's cooking."
"Does she make a house made ranch?" She questioned.
He smirked at that and led her back inside. His hand found the small of her back and she narrowed her eyes slightly. She didn't want to contemplate giving him a second chance. He was the type of person to have a cycle to his actions. He'd be the snarky yet sweet Damon, and then he'd be the angry asshole Damon. He lent her books that were older than her, and he switched them out without her noticing. She tried to ignore how that made her a little happy. It was small things like that, that she found sweet. She looked at the food out in front of her and her body reacted by having her stomach growl. It was loud and obvious.
"Sorry, it's been a while since I've eaten," She quietly excused.
"Don't worry, that's not the first time I've heard something like that," Bree winked before leaving to fill a person's glass.
Clara nodded at that as she picked up a fry and bit into it. Damon didn't waste anytime in picking up his burger and biting into it. He picked up a pickle and tossed it into his mouth. She narrowed her eyes and contemplated asking him more about the way a vampire's body worked.
"How is that you can eat?" Clara quietly asked, "Like I understand that you guys are technically the living dead, but how does your body break it down?"
"Enough blood in our system and we're able to go about like normal humans," He answered, and she nodded her understanding.
"How are Elena and I related to Katherine?" She gently pushed, "Vampire's can't procreate, well outside of the Breaking Dawn lore."
"The Twilight woman wrote more of that crap?" He asked with a disgusted look.
"Yeah," She nodded as she finally took a bite from her burger.
"In the real-world Vampires can't procreate, though we do love to try," He confirmed sending her a flirty smile.
It was the first time she ever seemed uncomfortable by what he said. She never did that well with someone flirting with her that way. Snarky flirting, she could handle with ease, insinuating flirting she couldn't. He moved to take her pickles and she slapped his hand. He smirked at that as he pulled away from her plate.
"Dude, saving the best for last," She informed him, "Is car-bro using Elena to replace Katherine?"
"Kinda creepy if you ask me," He answered.
"I am asking you," She said as she frowned, "it was a yes or no answer."
"No, I don't," He admitted with a frown on his face.
"Now that, that's settled," She muttered and she turned to Bree with a small, polite smile, "may I get a beer please."
"Coming right up," Bree said.
"Really, last time you drank I had to drive you home," He pointed out as the beer was placed in front of her.
"I also pounded back a lot of appletinis," She said as she picked up the beer and took a sip, "I get the feeling I'll need the alcohol. Remember, five minutes."
He shook his head and grabbed his own beer. She could fire back with the sarcasm. She quieted down and continued to eat her food; her expression thoughtful. She needed to stop withdrawing into her head. She was going to get herself killed doing that. She kept that expression on her face, even though some minor amusement appeared when Damon got pulled into a drinking contest with a few nephilims. Not that he knew the people drinking him under the table were half human. She didn't say anything, not wanting to spoil his fun. She grinned and clapped alongside everyone else when she noticed something.
Demons, and it was a group of them. She narrowed her eyes and looked around with a frown. She stopped when she came to a back door. A side exit really, she just hadn't noticed it at first. She would have to get back into the habit of scoping out a room before relaxing. She got up from her stool at the bar and headed to that exit. She saw a few people standing next to a building that looked shut down.
The people varied in every way. Women, men, black, white, Hispanic, and their heights did the same. She slowly moved towards the group. Demons were easy, she could take care of them like they were nothing. She put her hands into her pockets and leaned against a nearby building. How would she go about it? She could do the true and tried method of exorcism, but she wanted to use her abilities. Using them would strengthen her and make it less likely for her to faint or bleed. She was viewing it more like a muscle than anything. She smirked to herself and slowly started to use her powers on the people. She would make them uncomfortable first, and then completely remove them. If there happened to be a dead victim from the demons she would call clean up.
Simple. Easy. And oh so familiar. She let her emotions blank as she started. It was an itchy sensation, like a scratch on the back that couldn't be reached. A few of the demons shifted their weight and rolled their shoulders in an attempt to negate the strange sensation. Oh, this would be too easy.
"Hey," Bree said back in bar as she looked around for the hunter, "where's your girl?"
"Don't let her catch you calling her that," Damon answered as he looked around, "she's of a vengeful type."
"My kind of gal," Bree stated with a slight smirk.
"Oh, you wound me," He muttered as he didn't see the hunter in the building, "it's getting time for us to leave anyway."
Bree nodded at that and watched as he walked towards the door, his jacket slung over his shoulder. She couldn't help but be slightly amused. Those two were starting to be in tune with each other. It was a slow process, but she didn't doubt that Clara would be the first to guess what the other was planning the moment he started. Good, he needed someone that would call him out on his bullshit. That girl could do it. She could feel it.
Damon blinked slowly when he came across Clara staring down a man in a calm manner. The slight blankness to her face was a change from the cold fury she sent his way. He observed the scene around her. There were people on the ground, some of them weren't breathing.
"Ah, the youngest Schmidt," The man groaned as he looked at her, "how does it feel to be like something you hunt?"
"Does it matter?" She asked, shrugging slightly before looking at the man with a slight smile, "There's nothing that can be done about it, so why not roll with it?"
"You would say that," The man groused as she tugged on his hold of the body he was possessing, "using arts taught to you by us? Clever girl."
"I have my moments," She agreed as she moved to crouch next to the man, "now, where are the people you're trafficking? You can tell me the easy way, or I can extract it."
"Do it," The man sneered, "you never had the stomach to fully extract information."
"Right, you were around me in year three hundred," She muttered before letting out a quiet laugh, "I think I finally broke free of that inhibition around year six hundred."
Damon felt his body freeze when she looked at him. She didn't look happy about the situation, but she continued forward. She placed her fingertips on the man's head and stared him in the eyes. It didn't take long for the man to jerk in pain. He slowly walked up to them. Curiosity kicking in.
"So, what are you doing to him?" He questioned in a light tone.
"Mental torture," She answered, "it doesn't hurt the man he's possessing, but it gets me answers."
"They're in the warehouse on Continental Way," The man finally gasped out, "the abandoned one, the one that hasn't been rented out for a while."
"Thank you for your cooperation," She said with a pleasant smile.
She stepped back and the man started gagging. A black sludge came out of his mouth and splattered against the ground before vanishing. Damon stared at that and he slowly turned towards "his girl". She wasn't lying to him. He was so used to people doing that to him that he typically assumed they were. She pulled out her phone and had a quick conversation in Russian. He gained an annoyed look when something landed on the top of his head. He grabbed it.
"Mail for you, Miss Clara," He said in a snarky tone.
She rolled her eyes in response and he handed her the letter. She opened it and raised her brows. Clearly happy with what was inside. She closed it and folded it up. It disappeared into one of her jean pockets.
"I just got paid," She shrugged, "Usually it appears in the nearest safe area, never seen it appear on someone's head before."
"What can I say, everyone likes me," He commented with a shrug.
"Right, is it time to head back yet?" She questioned.
He nodded at that. He got the answers that he wanted. She let out a quiet yawn and he rolled his eyes. He'd never met someone who could eat and sleep so much. She stretched slightly and the sweater he lent her slightly slipped off one of her shoulders.
"So, why did you bring me with you?" She asked him as he unlocked the passenger door.
"You aren't the worst company in the world," He answered, "and, you needed the break from everyone."
"That's sad when someone else can see that," She quietly admitted as he held the door open for her she hesitated, "this niceties coming from you, is it just an act?"
"Not always," He said, a slight lift of his shoulders gave the barest hint of a shrug.
"Let's make a deal then," She said with a quiet sigh, her breath visible in the autumn night, "I'll help you get your girlfriend back, as long as you keep me in the loop."
"What's the catch?" He questioned.
"Well, it's my understanding that if you get what you want you'll leave," She stated in an uncaring tone, "you leave then my sister won't be in as much danger and you get to be happy with your girlfriend for all eternity."
"That's pretty selfish," He pointed out.
"Like I said, at least I admit I'm selfish," She shrugged before turning to him, "so, is it a deal?"
"Fine, I'll keep you in the loop," He said as she held out a hand.
He grasped it with his own. Her hands were so small compared to his, and slightly warm. She gave his hand a shake before releasing him. He shook his thoughts away as she got in the car. He closed the door behind her.
Clara was quiet as he drove them back to Mystic Falls. Her eyes stared at the farmland around them. She was going to miss the open fields. She gave Damon a quick glance and inwardly smirked. That deal would keep her somewhat safe as long as she gave him her honest opinion. She watched as a slight gust of wind from the slightly cracked window ruffled his dark hair. It was already fluffy as it was. A hundred years and only one brother had a sense of style? She had no clue how that happened. It was amusing.
She was really giving him a second chance, wasn't she? She had called it a cycle, but maybe he could break it on his end. She refused to be pulled into a self destructive cycle. No man was worth that. She respected herself far too much. She closed her eyes at that a thought and simply caught up on her sleep.
When she woke up, she was on the couch in the living room. She looked around in confusion before she laid back down. She didn't need to worry about getting to bed. She needed to finish replacing her floorboards before she could even think about putting together furniture. She frowned at that thought. It was going to take her forever. She sighed and closed her eyes. She'd worry about it after getting some more sleep.