With a soft thump, another body joined the many littering the grounds of the Abattoir – the Mikaelson's old home – and Damon felt his irritating thirst finally subsiding. It was strange, when he felt full, there had still been the nagging dryness behind his throat that wouldn't cease.
He wiped his mouth, looking around at the remnants of slaughter around him. He had no idea it was possible to consume so much blood and not feel bloated.
It seemed the catalyst that had triggered the long, burning thirst was Klaus' anger and frustration leeching through to him—he had tried, yet again, to get through to Marcel about the urgency of the situation, but the stubborn bastard still hadn't budged.
Klaus had even attempted to compel him to give up a witch, but it hadn't worked. Either it wasn't possible because he was in Damon's body, or he was on vervain. He had felt the hybrid reaching the end of his tether, and before Damon could try and reign him in, Klaus had already bitten his way through four of the bodyguards surrounding Marcel.
The only thing that seemed to calm Klaus down was vicious slaughter, apparently.
"You've been busy," Elijah remarked.
Damon turned to see him and Rebekah strolled into the spacious outside foyer. Rebekah's face was pinched with frustration, while Elijah was wiping his bloody hands clean with a handkerchief.
"Blame your brother," he said with a wry smile, "He's very demanding," he added knowingly.
Then he picked up his jacket that had gotten flung to the ground, putting it on. "How'd it go?" he asked, although from the looks on their faces he could already guess.
"Marcel's still refusing to let the witches help," Rebekah relayed, "Even promised we would make Klaus heal those he bit, but nothing," she added, rubbing her brow.
Damon felt a pushing in his brain as Klaus came forth. "He's trying to appear strong in the face of uncertainty," he explained, "I taught him too well, it seems," he added as an afterthought, that last tinged with a growl.
"Couldn't you just offer to sleep with him?" Damon suggested, looking at Rebekah.
She looked horrified. "Damon!" she cried indignantly.
"It could work!" he defended himself, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Besides, what else did they have at this point?
At the needling look Elijah gave him – he saw where Klaus got it from – he squirmed uncomfortably, holding up his hands as he rescinded:
"Or not."
"Fine," he grumbled. Then he folded his arms and straightened up, "But what else do we do?" he asked aimlessly, "Aside from just killing all of them anyway?" he pitched, knowing Klaus was itching under the surface to do just that if things carried on.
Elijah opened his mouth to suggest an answer, but what over-cut wasn't his voice. It was Marcel's:
"Klaus."
Damon felt his eyes roll to the heavens at the other man's voice. He turned to see Marcel walking into the open area flanked by more vampires, two of which looked extremely sick and feverish.
"Sort of," he drawled, "What the hell's going on?" he asked, looking the other vampires up and down.
"Alexander just died from his bite," Marcel informed him with a glare, "You're under arrest," he added, sternly folding his arms.
Damon barked out a harsh laugh at the absurdity. "Arrest?" he repeated incredulously, "Well, may I plead incompetence to stand trial by reason of insanity?" he wondered, mockingly playing dumb, "Having Klaus in your head doesn't do it wonders, you know," he added seriously.
"From what I can gather, you two are like peas in a pod," Marcel went on, and Damon had to fight back the smirk that Klaus wanted to put on his face, "You didn't exactly try to stop him," he added, raising an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"And you didn't exactly offer a witch up when we asked," Damon pointed out heatedly, coming to stand closer to him.
Usually it would've been suicide to go up against a vampire so much stronger than him so brazenly – Pearl and his eyeballs instantly came to mind – but he knew he would be fine since he could harness Klaus' strength and power.
And it seemed Marcel could sense it, backing off a little while the non-sick vampires beside him gave Damon threatening glares. He could hear Klaus' mocking laughter echoing inside his brain.
Rebekah stepped forwards to interject. "Marcel–"
"Sorry, Rebekah," he cut her off, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, "Rules are rules, regardless," he added.
Damon felt an overwhelming sense of disdain twist his expression and flood his body. "You actually think you can subdue me with this pathetic display?" Klaus' voice asked scathingly, sounding offended.
There was movement behind him. Damon whirled around, catching a vampire's wrist in his hand. He tightened his grip, narrowing his eyes when he saw her holding a needle, most likely filled with vervain.
His nostrils flared angrily. "I don't do needles, sweetie," he accosted her, shaking his head with a soft 'tsk'ing sound, "Bad memories," he added with a forced smile.
Before she could yank her hand out of his grip, Damon felt Klaus' hybrid visage briefly burn forth, and with a sadistic smile he sank his venomous fangs into her wrist.
She shrieked in pain and the needle slipped from her fingers. Damon allowed her to snatch her wrist back, looking at the blooming bite in horror, her eyes widening fearfully. He turned to the other vampires, snarling lowly in warning.
"Klaus Mikaelson, I sentence you to seventy years of imprisonment in the–"
"Enough," Klaus' resounding voice came through in full force, shocking Marcel into silence, "Enough messing around," he said in a tired voice.
Damon felt a dull ache in his head, vaguely aware of liquid dripping down his nose – was it bleeding? – as he looked around at the vampires surrounding Marcel. Over the other vampire's shoulder, he could see a large horde gathering outside.
"Now, I will get what I came here for," Klaus continued, his voice starting to blend strangely with Damon's own, "And if any of you happen to die in the process, that's just a happy accident," he smirked, needling the three bitten vampires with a scathing look.
"However," Damon's hand moved to dig into his pocket—what was Klaus up to? "If any of you feel a purpose to your otherwise pathetic lives and would like to be spared," he pulled out a nickel, "Just pick up this coin."
He tossed it on the ground, the metallic ringing echoing throughout the eerie silence of the compound. No-one dared move a muscle, all eyes were focused on him, the opposing vampires glaring him down. Damon's resulting laugh was a strange blend of his own voice and Klaus'.
"I'll take that as a 'no', then," Damon said with a shrug, pulling a face, "Fine by me," he added, smirking, "I could do with some cardio," he joked, chuckling.
"Take him," Marcel ordered.
The few vampires that weren't bitten lunged for Damon, fangs out and veins popping threateningly. Their slaughter came with ease as he harnessed Klaus' strength, feeling it flowing through him in a delicious warmth, and their limbs flew to the ground with nauseating squelches.
As he went to wrap his hands around the throat of another vampire, chains suddenly snapped around his wrists and tugged them out to the sides, splaying them out so fast his muscles screamed from the tension. He looked to see a vampire on either side, holding a long length of chain.
The vervain drenched over the chains sizzled mildly at his skin, causing him to growl in pain as it blistered up. Rebekah swiftly took out three more trying to advance on him, using her strength and speed to her advantage, while Elijah calmly ripped up a ceramic slab from the ground and flung it smoothly through the air.
It hit home and his target was decapitated just as Rebekah pulled the heart out of a fourth vampire. Damon had been too distracted to notice another vampire in front of him, being rudely reminded when he felt a searing pain in his chest. He looked at him to see sliver glinting as a dagger worked furiously at cutting his chest up.
Another then grabbed his chin – the woman he had bitten earlier, Damon saw it on her wrist – and dragged a dagger jaggedly over his mouth. His scream of pain was cut short when she punched him solidly in the face.
He fell completely limp, sagging in the chains. The grip of the vampires was the only thing holding him upright and dark spots danced dangerously over his vision as his ears rang loudly.
Elijah was calling to Marcel over the sound:
"Enough, Marcel!"
"You're punishing the wrong vampire for my brother's so-called crimes!" he reasoned.
"And if Klaus was here in person, I'd be doing the same," Marcel responded, while Damon wanted to yell out he didn't have the balls, but he was in too much pain, "Rules have consequences; even if you Mikaelson's break them."
"Don't say we didn't warn you, then," Rebekah hissed callously.
Damon looked up at the sound of footsteps to see a vampire edging forwards, brandishing a white oak dagger – where the hell had he gotten that?. Despite the weapon, he felt strangely relaxed as the vampire snatched up his hair in a tight grip, looking straight into his eyes with utter hatred as he drove the dagger into his chest, breaking past the breastbone.
He cried out in pain, going limp and falling down in the chains as the vampire stepped back and released his hair. It remained stuck into his chest.
"Damon!" Rebekah yelled out for him.
But nothing was happening; Damon couldn't feel the dagger neutralizing any aspect of Klaus' control over him, couldn't feel himself desiccating either. Then again, he was a regular vampire. Then a wicked smirk tugged at his lips as he remembered – Klaus' wolf side rendered the dagger ineffective, which they clearly didn't know.
"What the hell is this?!" a vampire cried out in shock.
Damon peeked subtly up through his lashes so as to not give away he wasn't neutralized. He watched as the vampire who had stabbed him began to rapidly desiccate, feverishly scratching at his skin to try and stop it.
Rebekah's look of shock was disappearing as she smiled suddenly, nudging Elijah and exchanging a smirk with him as the vampire collapsed to the ground.
"Seems no-one believes in honor these days," Rebekah said with a light scoff, shaking her head in disdain, "A vampire wielding one of those daggers will kill them," she explained, folding her arms.
"And the silver is rendered useless by Klaus' werewolf side," she revealed, the shock falling across Marcel and his vampires palpable.
"Did we forget to mention that?" Elijah asked in a mock-guilty tone, "My apologies," he added, genuinely sounding regretful, but Damon saw the triumph in his eyes.
He went slack in the chains, relaxing and focusing. He felt Klaus' hybrid visage coming out on his face, but he dug deeper, pushing into the recesses of his own mind.
Thick fog began to hiss and gather over the ground as an ominous thunderstorm rumbled overhead, the sky darkening drastically. Damon felt his nose bleed with exertion but kept concentrating—it had been a while since he had fully utilized his weather powers to this extent, so he allowed some of Klaus' strength to leech into him and spur him on.
The sky started flashing with lightning and the vampires surrounding him began to clamor in surprise, murmuring amongst themselves. Damon looked up with a threatening snarl, seeing Marcel looking aghast at the sight. He grinned.
With a final push of power, Damon brought a huge bolt of lightning crashing to the ground in the midst of the cluster of vampires, creating a small crater in the ground from the force. The horde broke apart and Damon felt the chains around his wrists slackening slightly.
He used this to his advantage to tug one forwards, snatching him up and sinking his fangs into his throat, gulping down his blood. As it sang through him, the thunder and lightning intensified and the fog was a white blanket across the ground.
The chains fell away and Damon kicked the vampire he had bitten into the air, watching with satisfaction as he sailed through it and crashed straight through the wall of the Abattoir. He was about to make damn sure this place lived up to its name.
A bounding leap took Damon straight into the fray of vampires, hissing and snarling, snapping fangs and claws as he crashed into them. No-one who got in his way was spared, either torn to ribbons or eviscerated. He let out a satisfied laugh when he immobilized one vampire with her own weapon, stabbing the dagger down through her throat and kicking her away to choke on it.
One of Marcel's inner circle had joined the fray. Damon grinned, grabbing his ring and ripping it off, his finger along with it.
There was a horrifying screech as he burst into a fireball, flailing and desperately trying to put himself out. Damon felt Klaus coming forth to give the vampire fireball a hard kick towards three more vampires, catching them up in the blaze.
He felt Klaus' fury burning through him as he whipped around and glared at Marcel, whose eyes were widened in horror.
"Marcel! Come and finish this!" he bellowed over the sound of the pandemonium.
But the horde of vampires outside had started to swarm him and snatch his attention before Marcel could come forwards. Damon relaxed and let Klaus push himself completely forward to decimate the vampires.
"Take the coin," he heard Elijah saying to Marcel over the sounds of roaring and hissing.
"What?"
Damon ducked, decapitating another vampire with a swipe of his clawed hand.
"You know he won't stop until everyone is dead," Rebekah continued.
"Then I suspect he will kill you too, and take his witch regardless," Elijah said in a blasé tone, "You must surely realize that you aren't only threatening the world's most powerful supernatural being, but someone he cares immensely about as well?"
Well, if Marcel didn't, he was about to.
As Damon felt Klaus take him into the open plaza area where the rest of the horde were clamoring to force through into the foyer with a jump off the wall, he felt his bones breaking under the buzzing of adrenaline, being down on all fours when he hit the ground.
The wolf spared no-one in his path, several vampires becoming mangled lumps of flesh when caught in between his snapping teeth. Damon could feel Klaus reveling in the slaughter; it was damn-near an aphrodisiac.
"Enough!" Marcel roared.
The room fell absolutely silent like a switch had been flipped. No-one moved, no-one even breathed. The wolf turned his head towards the sound, the hand of a vampire dangling from his jaws, looking to see Marcel crouching down to the ground.
The wolf's lips tugged in an imitation of a smirk when he saw Marcel picking up the nickel he had thrown down.
"Enough, okay?" Marcel said pacifyingly, holding up one hand in an attempt to placate him. With a toss, the coin was in between the wolf's forepaws. "There. I hereby pledge my allegiance to you," he said through gritted teeth.
"My kingdom is yours," he said begrudgingly, raising his voice to make sure everyone still alive heard him.
Damon's bones cracked as Klaus transformed back, rising to his full height as his clothes clung to him in shreds. He felt locked in, unable to move or speak.
"Well, well, well," Klaus said with a shake of his head as his smile widened, looking down at Marcel still crouching before him, "That wasn't difficult," he said patronizingly.
Then Damon felt the hybrid's anger burn through him like fire, fresh blood leaking from his nose. "If it turns out that this was all in vain and I lose my own body and Damon, I will come back and burn this entire city to the ground with you and your miserable lemmings at the center," he swore.
As Damon – feeling Klaus' control rescinding on him – Rebekah and Elijah moved towards the Abattoir's entrance, the remaining few vampires parted like the red sea, both fearful and glaring at the trio with pure hatred.
Damon felt exhausted, his muscles screaming at him as they kept on walking. He looked back at the carnage they had created together with an amused whistle—impressive.
"Finally," he said in relief, throwing his head back with a laugh, "Took him long enough," he added with a bitter roll of his eyes.
"And not a moment too soon, I imagine?" Elijah guessed, taking off his suit jacket and offering it to Damon.
He took it with a grateful smile, pulling it on over the tears in his shirt. He was relieved his pants remained remotely intact.
"Now we just need to find a witch," Rebekah said with a smile.
"And a decent restaurant; all that exercise back there made me hungry," Damon quipped, grinning.
After a change of clothes and a quick shower back at the hotel, Damon, Elijah and Rebekah arrived outside of Sophie's bar. When they walked inside, they found the woman looking immensely happier, pouring herself a round of shots.
"Well, don't you look in a good mood?" Rebekah remarked.
"I'm celebrating!" Sophie cheered as she finished pouring herself the round of tequila, "Finally, my sister's death has been avenged! And it was better than anything I could've hoped for." With a huffing laugh and a grin, she downed the shot she had been holding with a victorious whoop.
Then she gathered her breath and placed the glass down, the cheeriness of her eyes momentarily sobering.
"Although, how much of a tyrant this next ruler will be, I don't know," she said tentatively, folding her arms as she gave Damon a wary look.
But it was Klaus that spoke. "Relax, I'm only 'ruler' long enough to get a witch to help me with getting back into my own body," he held his hands up in a placating manner, "As of now, magic no longer carries a death penalty and there's no embargo," he explained.
(Damon had a feeling it would last for as long as it took Marcel to rebuild what they had wrecked of his inner sanctum.)
"That's great," Sophie said, smiling, "But I know what you're going to ask me," she added, giving Damon a knowing look.
"Do you?" he asked, deliberately playing dumb.
"I'm not strong enough to help you," she said apologetically, stepping out from behind her bar, "Unless you want help in knowing someone's pregnant," she added, shrugging.
"But I know someone that is," she revealed, then she chewed at her lower lip. "Although, how receptive she'll be to you after what you did to Marcel, I don't know," she shrugged.
Damon felt his hands waving her off. "I'm more charming than I look," Klaus said, emphasizing it with a charming smile.
"Hey!" Damon interjected suddenly, taken aback, "I look plenty charming, thank you," he said defensively with a frown.
Sophie's mouth was ajar in shock.
"Did you just," she frowned and gave Damon a double-take, "argue with yourself?" she asked with a bemused chuckle.
"It's when I start answering myself you need to worry," he teased, smirking.
Sophie snorted on a laugh as she made for the bar entrance, flipping the 'open' sign to 'closed'. She motioned for them to follow, holding the door open.
They eventually made it to a run-down looking church. Sophie quietly took them past a few people murmuring prayers up at a large crucifix, along the aisle and through a door to the rectory.
Once through the rectory hallway and out into a spanning cobblestoned courtyard, Damon spotted a brightly lit window up on the second story of an attached annex, and the three of them continued to follow Sophie until she lead them to a locked door.
"Davina?" she called through the door, giving it a gentle knock. She tried the handle, but the door was locked. "It's Sophie, can I come in?" she asked.
There was some shuffling inside, then footsteps towards the door. It unlocked with a rattle and was pulled open to see a mousy-brown haired girl peeking her head around with a confused frown.
"Sophie," she acknowledged the other woman with a nod, then she looked to Damon, Rebekah and Elijah. Her face became pinched. "What are they doing here?" she wondered.
"You know who we are?" Rebekah asked with a confused frown.
"The Mikaelson's; everyone knows who you are," Davina relayed with a nod, "Even Klaus' little pet," she added, looking Damon up and down.
"Hey, I resent that!" he cried, firmly folding his arms. He was not amused. 'Pet', why he oughta… "He's the one that likes being tickled behind the ears," he added with a happy scoff, grinning to himself at the memory, ignoring the brief wash of Klaus' indignant rage.
Davina looked bewildered. "What?"
"He–mmpph!" He was cut off as his hand suddenly clamped tightly over his mouth. He rolled his eyes and brought up his other to wrench it away, struggling slightly.
"All right!" he conceded, needing to grab his own wrist as Klaus attempted to bring his hand up to his mouth again, "I won't say anything," he gave over reassuringly.
His hand eventually stopped twitching.
"Do you think you'll be able to help us, Miss Claire?" Elijah asked.
"Depends for what?" she responded simply.
"May we come in?" he asked, stepping forwards a little, "It's a long story to explain from standing in a doorway," he pointed out. To add to the effect, Damon pulled a face and nodded.
It seemed like a long time before Davina finally nodded and moved aside, pulling the door completely open, having given each of them a thorough perusal.
"All right," she conceded, nodding, "Please come in," she invited, stepping aside to let them walk in.
"I've gotta get back to work," Sophie piped up, Damon turning to look at her, "Play nice," she warned, looking at the four of them before she turned and left.
Elijah headed inside, followed by Damon. When she crossed the threshold, Rebekah left the door slightly ajar, and Damon noticed Davina relaxing a little. He looked around, seeing a small attic crawlspace. There were no windows, just enough room for a single bed and a sink. There was also a small table that had parchment, candles and grimoires on it.
"What do you want?" Davina asked, folding her arms.
"To cut a long story short," Damon began, huffing out a tired breath, "I have Klaus' soul inside my body because I had to come up with a way to protect his sire line after my idiot brother desiccated him and made him a sitting duck for a murderous vampire-vampire hunter," he explained, watching Davina frown.
"Klaus' body was staked and now here we are," he added, gesturing to himself, "Only the witch that did the spell can't do magic again for a while since the spirits are being judgmental dicks to her," he added with an unfavorable roll of his eyes. What was the point in being a powerful witch if you were supposed to listen to a bunch of dead guys?
"Are you with me so far?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.
Davina nodded slowly, her frown unraveling. "So this vampire-vampire hunter staked Klaus' body and now he's–"
"Inside me, yeah," Damon cut her off with a nod, "And not in the fun way," he added airily, shaking his head.
"And we need a witches' help to get him out and back into his own body," Rebekah pitched in.
"Why me?" Davina asked in confusion, "There are hundreds of others in the Quarter," she reasoned.
"Miss Deveraux seems to think you're powerful enough to help us," Elijah told her, "Is that true?" he wondered.
"It depends on the spell," Davina shrugged, "But give me one reason I should actually help you," she asked, her voice taking on a slightly venomous tone, "After what you did to Marcel?" she asked, needling Damon with a glare.
(There it was. He was refraining from rolling his eyes.)
"How did you possibly hear that already?" Rebekah asked, bewildered.
"Don't think Sophie was partying that loud," Damon quipped.
"I was watching," Davina replied, pointing to a bowl she had on the small table. Damon stood on his tip-toes to peer over, seeing it filled with water.
He stumbled back suddenly, darkness fading in and out over his vision as his head throbbed in agony.
"Merely self-defence," Klaus responded airily, "I was going to be entombed for a pitiful 'crime'"–he made air quotes with his fingers–"and made my displeasure known."
As Damon felt Klaus' control rescinding, bile rose rapidly in his throat. He lurched forwards and hacked out a splodge of black gunk into his hand. He groaned and wiped it on his jeans, rubbing his temples in frustration.
"What's happening to him?" Davina asked Rebekah out of the corner of her mouth.
"Klaus' soul is taking over mine," Damon grumbled, righting himself—god, were his muscles supposed to ache so much? "Soon I'll be gone from existence and Klaus won't be able to get back into his own body," he explained.
"One less vampire in the world," Davina said with a raised eyebrow, "Why would I care what happens to any of you?" she asked scathingly.
Damon wanted to say, 'Y'know, that's unfair; we get a pretty bad rap,' but what came out instead was Klaus firmly saying:
"I care."
Then his arms folded and he was accosting Davina. "And you, little witch, have clearly seen what happens when someone I care about is threatened," he added, his eyes briefly burning gold in warning.
"And, even as young as you are, I won't hesitate to use such measures on you," he said, his tone completely serious. Beside him, Rebekah swallowed nervously.
"But, if you willingly help me, maybe I can help you in return?" he offered, looking at her expectantly.
"Help me?" Davina repeated, looking confused, "Why would I need your help?" she asked, but she looked a little uncomfortable, averting her eyes.
"You're the most powerful witch around here, anyone with a brain can sense that," he said knowingly, "But something isn't quite right," he said intuitively; Davina swallowed, reluctantly meeting his eyes.
"You're an abomination amongst witches, just as I am an abomination amongst vampires and werewolves. Am I correct?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Davina gave a labored sigh. "There was a harvest a few years ago," she began, her breath hitching a little before she gathered her wits, "A sacrifice," she clarified, "And I watched my friends get killed, but Marcel saved my life," she explained, looking haunted, "I ended up getting all the power of my dead friends since the ritual wasn't completed," she finished.
"And there's an imbalance in you, isn't there?" Klaus persisted, "You often feel alone, like a monster out of control in your own body," he finished. Damon felt a brief pang of sadness from Klaus' essence, disappearing almost as quickly as it had come.
"Do you think there is a way to help me?" Davina wondered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, "I can't take being locked up like this much longer—Marcel says it's for my safety, but…" she trailed off, hanging her head.
"Of course," Klaus nodded, and Davina had the beginnings of a tiny smile, "Witches are finicky things," he added, rolling his eyes, "There's always a loophole when someone has too much power according to them," he explained.
"What's your loophole?" Davina wondered, tilting her head.
"Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn't it?" Klaus said cryptically, and Damon placed a finger to his lips.
Davina gave him a watery smile. "All right, I'll help you," she decided. Then she bunched her sweater sleeve up and dabbed at her eyes.
Damon sighed in relief, partly because of her agreement and partly because Klaus let up, easing the immense pressure on his brain. He rubbed a hand over his face. He couldn't wait for this to be over.
"But you have to promise this isn't going to come back to me once you leave and Marcel gets the throne back," Davina bargained, looking around at the three of them.
"I thought he saved your life?" Rebekah asked, frowning.
"He did," Davina nodded, "But he still enslaved me and the rest of the witches," she explained, "I can't keep being his secret weapon," she added with a little shiver.
"We won't let anything happen," Rebekah promised, "He'll have lost his eyes and ears since Klaus killed most of them, they'll have no way of knowing it was you," she added.
Damon's mouth twitched into a smirk.
"Do you have the spell your witch used?" Davina asked.
Rebekah dug into the clutch bag she had looped around her shoulder and pulled out Bonnie's grimoire—Damon pulled face; he wondered why she had the bag.
"Right here."
She handed Davina the grimoire, and the other woman flipped to the ear-marked page, running her finger down it as she skimmed over it. Eventually, she looked up, handing it back to Rebekah.
"I'll need a sample of your blood," Davina said to Damon.
"Why?" he asked, frowning.
"I need to see how easily they can be separated," she explained, "It'll tell me if this'll be difficult or not," she added.
"All right," Damon gave over, raising his hand and biting into his palm hard enough to make a well of blood bubble up. He awkwardly stood there, pinching his palm closed. "Where do you–?"
Davina grabbed one of the pieces of parchment from her table, placing it down when she deemed it blank. "Just here," she said, nodding her head towards it.
Damon walked over, opening his hand to drip his blood onto it. He couldn't help but notice how dark – how black – it looked. He was hoping it was just the crappy low light of Davina's attic space playing tricks on his eyes, but he wasn't that lucky.
He stepped aside, rubbing the leftover blood on his jeans as the wound healed, to give Davina room to organize some candles. She arranged them in a circle around the bloodstained parchment and lit them with a simple thought.
She began to chant, the stream of Latin flowing smoothly out of her mouth. Eyes still closed, she paused, frowning in confusion.
"Something's wrong," she muttered, shaking her head. She stopped completely in her chanting and opened her eyes. "The samples are struggling to separate," she said.
Damon came closer, seeing the blood had congealed into a circular pool. It was smeared slightly at the edges, as if someone had pinched them between their fingers and pulled like it was a length of taffy, but it hadn't budged much further than that.
"What does that mean?" Rebekah wondered, coming closer to examine it too. She had the same look of puzzlement on her face that Damon did.
"These types of spells aren't meant to be used in excess of three days or have excessive use of both souls at the same time," Davina explained, "So it must be a byproduct of the spell lasting too long," she suggested, although she looked unsure too. She looked younger than Bonnie by a few years, so what would be the chances she had seen vampire-on-vampire possession before?
"Klaus possessed a friend of mine for several weeks and this never happened,"
"He must have used a different spell to the one your friend did," "I doubt Klaus Mikaelson's inner circle of witches had to obey the spirits and could use much darker magic,"
"And where are those witches when we need them?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"You killed the last one, if I remember rightly, Damon," Elijah piped up from where he was standing, leaning against Davina's bed frame.
"Oh yeah, so I did," Damon said with an uneasy smile, "Gre-ta," he enunciated with a scoff, remembering the young, dark-skinned girl who's neck he had snapped like a matchstick while Bonnie had ascended on assaulting Klaus with her magic. That must've lead to one awkward family reunion on the Other Side.
"What does the blood refusing to separate mean?" Elijah asked, walking over to have a look at it for himself.
"That Damon probably doesn't have a lot of time left," Davina said, giving him an apologetic grimace, "Maybe hours," she added.
"I should have another day!" Damon cried, flinging his hands up in exasperation. Why was the universe so intent on screwing him over one way or another?!
"It's probably because you're both able to fight with each other," Davina reasoned, "When Klaus possessed your friend, did that happen?" she asked.
"Don't think so, since he was human," Damon replied—Ric hadn't mentioned anything like that happening, just feeling like he was asleep right up unti he wasn't and he had to console a shaken up Jenna and explain everything about vampires to her with his and Stefan's help, "It was just Klaus."
Davina looked to be mulling something over, biting the inside of her cheek. Then her eyes lit up. "That's got to be it!" she cried, reaching some epiphany that only she knew about, "If I'm right, we'll need to hurry," she said hastily, starting to gather some things into her arms.
"Where's Klaus' body?" she asked, pausing to look around the room at the three of them.
"Back at the hotel we stayed in," Rebekah said, "Probably safer if we go back there; that way you're definitely out of city bounds and can't be prosecuted later if Marcel wishes," she explained.
Davina looked very pleased at the loophole and finished gathering up things that she needed – with Rebekah loaning her her clutch bag – then the four of them made their way back to the hotel.
It took about half-an-hour to get there, on account of some overzealous cronies of Marcel's trying to attack them by the city's border, but Davina made swift work of them, telekinetically breaking their necks and performing a brief memory erasing spell, so they wouldn't be able to report back to Marcel she was 'in cahoots' – Damon's words – with the Mikaelson's.
They gathered into the hotel room, and Davina placed her bag of things on the little table by the mini bar. She walked over to the coffin Klaus' body was in, pushing it open.
"So, this is what the famous Klaus Mikaelson looks like," she marveled, peering in and tilting her head curiously, "I imagined him more... scary looking," she decided, looking a little disappointed.
"Yeah, yeah, he's a looker even barbecued," Damon said in a clipped voice, waving a hand dismissively, "Can we save the gawking for when I'm not on a time crunch?" he added hurriedly, forcing a smile in her direction.
She held up a hand in surrender, and made to turn around to get the grimoire, but something caught her eye inside the coffin and she reached inside for it.
"Vampires take recreational drugs now?" she asked, puzzled, as she held up the jar of Bonnie's herbs.
Damon bit back the remark that he knew damn well that was what they looked like. "No, they're from Bonnie," he corrected, "They're magic herbs that were meant to help my friend with a certain... murderous problem he had," he explained, "She thought they'd help me with Klaus," he shrugged.
Davina nodded in acknowledgement.
"They have a magic binding agent in them," she said, giving the jar a little jostle, "I could draw on it to strengthen the spell," she mused, more to herself than any of the vampires in the room.
"As long as you know what that means," Damon said dismissively, waving her off and letting her do her thing.
"Will it help Klaus get back into his body?" Elijah wondered.
"Could do," Davina said, but she sounded uncertain, "If they acted as something to keep this 'murderous problem' at bay, it could help drive Klaus' soul away from Damon's," she reasoned putting the jar of herbs down with her things on the table.
"At the moment, they don't want to separate," she continued, turning around to look at Damon.
"Why not?" Rebekah asked, frowning and folding her arms, "I would've thought Klaus would be dying to get back into his own body?" she wondered.
"Trust me, I've got a direct line," Damon piped up, "He definitely is," he said, nodding firmly.
Davina's face crinkled with her own frown. "Then I'm not sure."
"Is it going to even work?" Damon asked her, feeling his gut churn with unease. Well, it had been a good hundred and seventy odd years…
"We'll have to see," Davina said, "But if your friend got Klaus in, there's gotta be a way to get him out," she added resolutely.
"I'll need a pure blood sample from Klaus' body and one from yours," she continued.
"I'll do it," Rebekah volunteered, "Sorry about this, Nik," she added with a brief glance in Damon's direction as she headed over to the coffin.
Damon's hand waved dismissively, and he had to wipe away the dribble of another nosebleed. He watched as Davina handed Rebekah a glass vial and a small dagger, then she handed one to him.
As Rebekah cut a small slit in Klaus' desiccated neck – how she managed to get blood out of him was a mystery – Damon bit into his palm again, dripping his blood into the vial. When he handed it back to Davina, the stark difference between the vials caught him off-guard.
By comparison, Damon's blood looked much murkier and darker, like sludge in comparison to Klaus' brighter red sample.
"It should encourage Klaus' blood to mix back with his and leave yours, then the souls should follow suit," she pitched, giving the vials a little shake; Damon's looked like it had little pieces of sediment in it.
"Anything else?" he asked, "Hair samples? Skin samples?" he listed, "Toenail clippings?" he added in slight exasperation. If it wasn't one thing throwing a spanner in the works, it was another.
"Hair samples couldn't hurt," Davina agreed, mulling the idea over. She picked up the grimoire and checked the opened page. "It says that in order for the essence to be placed back where it came from the body or something of that nature should be close," she explained, showing him the little penciled in drawings.
"Given how joined you and Klaus seem, anything to encourage you to separate would be a good idea," she added as an afterthought.
"His body's right there!" Damon pointed out in exasperation, flinging his hands up as he gestured to it.
"I know," she said calmly in the face of his irate reaction, "But for some reason his essence doesn't want to leave yours," she revealed, "The more things we have could help."
"Can't live without me, huh?" Damon joked with a wry smile, "Cute, but now it's gonna kill me," he grimaced.
"Trust me, Damon, if I knew how to, I'd stop it," Klaus' voice said, sounding very apologetic.
After an extra few minutes plucking Damon, and Klaus' corpse, of a few hairs, Davina was starting to lay her candles on the ground. She then grabbed a large beaker of table salt and began pouring it on the ground in the shape of a large pentagram, one of the candles at each of the five points.
"I pity whichever manager finds this room when we've left," Damon snorted, chuckling as he looked at the floor. It looked like they were about to conduct a satanic ritual.
(All they needed were flaming torches and a crazy witch hellbent on supernatural genocide.)
The candles were lit and Davina grabbed the grimoire. "Now, I need you to stand in the middle," she said, motioning at Damon.
He did, and Davina placed two separate pieces of paper around the pentagram, placing the hair samples on one, and their blood samples on the other, pouring them both into a large puddle.
She grabbed the grimoire and blew out a breath, readying herself. "Ready?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.
"As I'll ever be," Damon nodded grimly.
As Davina began to recite the spell, the flames of the candles flared up into tall columns and Damon felt a strange buzzing sensation in the back of his mind, at the base of his skull, as if a little bee was trapped there. He pushed it down, watching as the pool of his and Klaus' joined blood began to move and twist very slowly, writhing like a moving shadow.
Liquid started to trail down his face from his nose, eyes and ears, choking him slowly as it pushed its way out from between his lips. He coughed and spat some out onto the ground—it was a mixture of blood and the black gunk. He tried to wipe at his face, but it kept coming thick and fast.
A sudden, piercing screech had Damon reflexively clamping his hands over his ears to stop the sound. His chest was vibrating, but he wasn't even sure he was screaming. It was agonizing, like something was gouging at every squiggle of his brain. He wanted to claw inside his skull like a madman and make it stop.
The lights overhead exploded into a hail of sparks, blanketing the room in darkness, save for the flaring candles. Davina's concentrated face as she continued to chant was lit by an amber glow. Damon felt his knees give out and he thudded to the ground, contorted at an odd angle as the salt creating the pentagram stopped him from going anywhere.
"Damon!" Rebekah cried, making to rush over to him, but she couldn't get past the pentagram.
"What's happening to him?!" she demanded, spinning on her heel to yell worriedly at Davina.
She didn't respond, deep in concentration. Damon dreaded to think what would happen if she stopped now but couldn't stop the fleeting thoughts of making her as he began to vomit blood into his hands, feeling Klaus' hybrid visage emerging on his face.
His skin felt like it was being ripped slowly to pieces and set on fire; something was tearing at his heart like little hooks. He screamed in pain as it intensified with every beat of his heart, but what came out was a deafening roar that blew out the nearby windows and caused such a surge of power car alarms in the parking lot were blaring.
Damon's vision was blurring and he was feeling light-headed, woozy. He went limp and slumped to the side, his head crashing on the floor as everything went dark.
It was peaceful.
Calm, quiet, and dark.
Was he dead? If he was, it was very comfortable being dead; soft pressure was against the back of his head, upper back and legs. Rose had been right, the Other Side was very peaceful, almost relaxing.
Damon's eyes were heavy and his limbs were lead, a delicious languor pulsing through them, and his bones humming with a strange energy. Strange lights were dancing across the darkness blanketing his eyes, flashing like rainbow lights on a raven's feathers.
Something was probing gently at his face. It was damp and made his nose crinkle when it swiped over. It stopped for a moment, then dabbed against his neck. He batted it away fussily as something cold and clammy slid down his skin, not liking it.
"Mmm," he groaned, "Five more minutes," he mumbled sleepily, turning over.
A familiar sounding chuckle reached his ears, but Damon couldn't place it.
"I forgot you're not a morning person, but you are getting blood all over these pillows," a voice responded. It was so familiar, but where—
Damon's eyes snapped open instantly and he bolted upright. Klaus was perched on the bed beside him, a bloodstained washcloth in his hand. He looked around at the unfamiliar room, the opened coffin, the jagged remnants of glass bordering the windowpanes, and the grimoire laying on a nearby table.
It all came rushing back, hitting him like a freight train: Klaus admitting they were descended from his bloodline; Stefan desiccating Klaus in a misguided stab of heroics; Ric staking him with a vengeance; Bonnie's spell to transfer Klaus' spirit into his body; the furor around trying to get Marcel to release a witch to help them…
"You're back!" Damon said in complete relief; his voice was drawn and hoarse, "I don't think I've ever been so relieved to see you!" he admitted, reaching out to put a hand on Klaus' shoulder just to check this was real.
In a surprising gesture, Klaus gave him a tiny smile, pulled him forwards and hugged him. He sagged into his arms, relieved and utterly exhausted, too tired to even make a sarcastic quip that the past few days were his good deeds for the next few years done.
He clutched at Klaus' shirt, reveling in the feeling of the fabric under his fingers, relieved just to have him back. He let himself enjoy the rare moment before Klaus pulled away and held him at arm's length. He was unsure what to make of the expression on the other man's face.
"It wasn't looking good for a moment, there," Klaus admitted suddenly, "Rebekah was concerned it would've killed the both of us," he added.
Damon made a noise—that would've sucked; everything he had done to save their bloodline would've been for nothing after all. He supposed he would've had the last laugh when Stefan, Elena and Caroline met him and Klaus on the Other Side.
He frowned. It had been evening when Davina had started the spell, now it was, if the bright blue sky outside and chirping birds were anything to go by, morning. "How long have I been—?" He cut himself off, giving Klaus a look.
"Three years," he replied solemnly.
Damon pulled a face, the absolute absurdity of—he grinned widely. Klaus broke his poker face and chuckled along with him.
"Just a few days, I promise," he swore, holding up a hand.
Klaus then came to sit next to him on the bed properly, putting the washcloth down. "So, how are you feeling?" he asked, giving him a once over.
"Wiped out," Damon admitted, feeling utterly drained of every possible molecule of energy, but he refrained from flopping back down on the bed, "You?" he wondered, raising his eyebrows.
"Fit as a fiddle, as they say," Klaus responded evenly.
"You're annoying, you know that?" Damon accosted him suddenly, ribbing him, "Every time I kept doing something, you kept trying to take over," he added, a little annoyed.
"It got boring just watching," Klaus smirked.
Damon rolled his eyes. "At least everything's back to normal," he said with a happy sigh, then he backtracked, pulling a face. "Well, normal for us," he corrected, Klaus looking in agreement.
Then his face turned serious. "Damon, I—"
The door beeped, cutting him off as it swung open. He looked faintly annoyed as Rebekah's head poked around. "Nik, is he—?" She cut herself short upon seeing Damon awake in the bed.
She smiled, then leaned back behind the door. "Davina? He's awake!" she called.
The other woman walked into the room, and Rebekah followed – Damon wondered where Elijah was in all this – closing the door behind her. She leaned against the minibar, folding her arms, while Davina chewed the inside of her cheek.
It was clear something was weighing on both their minds, especially if Davina's teetering back and forth and the look she gave Rebekah was any clue. He looked briefly at Klaus, finding he bore a similar expression, the only difference was the twinkle in his eyes.
"Geez, who died?" Damon remarked with a scoff. He was pleased to see them too!
It seemed to snap Davina out of whatever trance she was in. "No-one," she said, chuckling nervously, "I'm just not sure how to tell you this," she said uneasily, biting her lip.
"What is it?" Damon demanded, not liking the sound of this. "If I've become permanently saddled with Klaus' voice as my conscious, I'll just stake myself right now," he said in all seriousness.
Davina huffed out a breath, gathering her wits. She looked bewildered as she spoke. "When I was performing the spell, the majority of Klaus' blood did separate from yours, but not all of it," she began.
"And?" Damon asked, raising his eyebrows and pressing for her to keep going.
"And, it ended up changing some of your genetic makeup," she finished. On Damon's frown – was Klaus smiling at this? – she elaborated: "Because you had the soul of an original hybrid inside you for a long time and could actually take control of it sometimes, it left an imprint on you."
"I'm an original vampire now?" Damon asked in confusion.
"Sort of," Rebekah chimed in, "You're an original hybrid, like Klaus," she relayed.
Damon exchanged a confused look with Klaus. He smiled, quirking his eyebrows.
"You're a lot stronger than before, you'll no longer burn in the sun, and you can turn into a wolf at will," Davina listed, "And I'd hypothesize you can't be killed like a regular vampire, either," she said, watching for his reaction.
They had to be pulling his leg. Damon shook his head. "That's impossible," he said in disbelief, "A werewolf can become a vampire hybrid, but a vampire can't become a werewolf!" he said incredulously.
"In this circumstance, I guess they can," Davina shrugged, "I was reading the spell and according to whoever wrote it, you shouldn't have even been able to have any control over your own body; Klaus should've just taken over entirely," she explained.
"Sounds more like what happened with Ric," Damon said in remembrance, "So why didn't he?" he wondered.
"You must be very mentally strong," Davina guessed, "Klaus is the most powerful supernatural being in existence; that's impressive," she complimented him.
Damon's face scrunched up. "Does this mean I'm gonna start smelling of wet dog if I get caught in the rain?"
And that's all for this chapter, kind of a short one, but I didn't want to drag it out by filling it with unnecessary stuff (I have a deleted scene saved I might share; wrote it and realized it really would've been pure filler (not to mention I doubt Damon would be down to stop and relax while his life is at stake), so I took it out). I also agonized over the action scene at the beginning—IDK, I feel my action scenes have been lacking lately. Maybe I shouldn't have bled all the ideas on Dance With the Devil.
Also thought I'd bring in more of Damon's powers—I'm pretty sure they never had him causing storms in the show, but I'm 90% sure he could do it in the books so I just ran with it, 'cause lightning strikes are badass. ;)
So, only one more chapter to go then this will be finished, done. I'm kind of sad about that—it's been with me for seven years, haha! Hopefully the next one will be out quicker, as I already have half of it written.
As always, lemme know if you liked this update, and I'll see you all next time.
And special kudos to HeyStardust – if you're still reading – for figuring out what I had planned with Damon. :D