Chapter Five

Rebecca was in the woods. She knew she was getting ready to die, to be killed. The creature in front of her had fangs and red eyes and there were veins protruding under them. It was a vampire, a hunter, a predator. Rebecca was the prey.

She was frozen, not able to breathe. She was terrified but accepting of the fact that she was meant to die this way; she was the Slayer, after all. She'd accepted her duty but that didn't mean she wanted to die. No, no, she was seventeen. She didn't want to die.

The vampire lunged and -

Rebecca startled awake and realized she was in a carriage with they guy she'd saved. Like she'd thought before . . . He did look around her dad's age. Late forties, early fifties. He had dark hair with gray throughout.

"How are you feeling?" The man's voice was stilted. He was probably pretending he wasn't afraid anymore.

"I'm okay." She was not going to go on about how she was not okay at all to someone she didn't really know.

"That was a vampire you killed, wasn't it?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered. "Sir," she added as an after thought. And then it registered . . . "You don't seem terribly surprised by that."

"Demons have inhabited these parts and the surrounding areas for a while now. It's the war; the bleeding soldiers draw them in."

"War? Where am I? What year is this?"

"Mystic Falls, Virginia. 1864." The man looked at her strangely. "Did you hit your head?"

"I'm . . . I don't know."

1864? How the hell . . .? The damn spell. It had actually worked. Oh, God. She was really back in time. She was in 1864 . . . She'd done a time traveling spell?

"Do you know who you are? And the state of your dress . . ."

"Um . . . Rebecca. My name is Rebecca." Though she couldn't explain why she was in a t-shirt and jeans. And the sneakers? Nope, she couldn't explain that. "I don't . . . know how I got here."

"You fought that demon with such ease," the man said, awed. "You do that often?"

"First time for me."

"Do you have a place to stay?"

Rebecca shook her head. "No." Obviously she didn't because she wasn't supposed to know how she'd ended up here.

"Well, you do now," the man said firmly. "I'm Giuseppe Salvatore."

Salvatore? This man was an ancestor to the Salvatore's she knew in the future? Or her present? How would that work exactly?

"Stone is my last name." Her family was not one of the founding families, so she was safe to give her last name.

Rebecca fell silent then and tried to focus on anything but the fact that she was now in 1864 and had no way of getting back home.

God, she was going to freak out.

No, no, she was going to focus on the fact that it was nighttime and the temperature was nice. But there was the usual Virginia humidity. Apparently that never changed.

Crap, it wasn't working.

She needed to get back home. If not for herself, than for Chelsea. Yeah, the girl had Tina now, but Chelsea was used to Rebecca. She didn't know how her sister would react to her not being there.

"I may have clothes for you to wear. We can get you fitted for more when you're feeling better."

1864 clothes? As in corsets and gowns and ew! She knew that wasn't what she should be worried about, but she didn't want to focus on the fact that she didn't know how to get back home.

God, her father. He was probably freaking out. Though some time away might do him some good, she wasn't sure. And her friends, especially Bonnie and Elena. And, uh . . . Oh, Sheila. She'd disappeared from Sheila's house because she'd . . . read a spell out loud.

Note to self: Don't read magic books out loud. Ever.

Eventually Rebecca and Giuseppe pulled up to a beautiful white Colonial house. Once inside the house, Giuseppe ordered one of his servants to show Rebecca to a guest room; he promised her a tour when she felt better.

She'd be able to take everything in better later. The only thing she wanted to do now was be alone and cry.

The next morning Rebecca awoke feeling not rested and saw someone was in her room. Another servant, probably, there to help her get dressed. Mr. Salvatore had done what he'd said and found her some dresses. She wondered who they belonged to.

She was grateful that they were very simple. Yes, there were corsets, but there was no hoop; there were, however, layers upon layers to make the bottom poofy.

"Mizz Stone, feelin' better?" The servant's speech made her 'better' sound like 'bettah'.

"Yes. Um . . . Who are you?"

A colored woman - shudder, she was back in the slave days - of course. Rebecca smiled and grimaced at the same time.

"Sorry, Mizz. Tabitha is my name."

"Tabitha." The woman was wearing a brown loose-fitting dress. She was heavy-set but healthy looking. But her face was worn; she'd had a hard life. "You can call me Rebecca."

She looked a little shocked, Tabitha did. She probably wasn't used to people being nice to her. Just because of her skin color.

"When you're finished dressing Master Salvatore would like to see you downstairs. Just follow the smell of breakfast."

"Okay, I'll be there shortly."

Tabitha left the room - she'd obviously only been there to see that Rebecca woke without a problem.

Rebecca picked a simple long-sleeved blue dress that flowed down her ankles. She left her hair down, but brushed it when she found a soft-bristled brush on the vanity set in the room.

Her room was big enough for a chamber pot - God, she was going to miss plumbing and electricity and all the other modern conveniences she was used to.

God, I really am back in time, she thought, not for the first time. How was she going to pull this off? She was a seventeen-year-old who had been living in 2009. She didn't know how to be an 1864 girl.

She hid her cell phone because it was useless here and because if anyone saw her with it they'd probably think she was a witch. She then did as Tabitha had requested and followed her nose. Surprisingly, the food smelled familiar. Eggs, bacon, sausage. Normal stuff.

Normal flew out the window when she got to the dining room because Stefan Salvatore - the Stefan from her time period - was seated at the table. His hair was different, but it was still undeniably him.

When Giuseppe, who was also there, noticed her presence he and Stefan rose out of politeness because she was a female and invited her to sit with them. He introduced Stefan as his son and then told her his other son, Damon, was away at war.

Damon had been in the war as a Confederate soldier?

God, Stefan and Damon were . . . vampires in her time period. Her mind had wanted to connect the dots, but she hadn't let it before. But they were human at the moment. She wondered what had happened to make them turn.

Then another thing popped into her head that had nothing at all to do with herself and everything to do with the rest of the world. What if she did something that changed everything? She'd seen Butterfly Effect and Back to the Future. She knew what messing with the space-time continuum could do, though she'd never believed in it until now.

"Are you alright?" Stefan's voice pushed away the fog in her head. "You've gone a little pale."

"She just needs a little air," Giuseppe said, not letting her answer for herself. "She's had quite a bad time of it. You were going to the stables later; why not take her with you?"

"Yes, Father," Stefan replied dutifully and smiled her way; Rebecca noticed he hadn't developed a brooding forehead yet. "I shall show you around the estate if you wish."

Rebecca smiled politely. "Thank you. That would be nice."

"Yes, Veritas is two hundred acres," Giuseppe started. "When I first settled here it was only one acre, but it has expanded."

"Veritas? That's Latin for trust, isn't it?" Rebecca asked, and was almost insulted when both men seemed shocked that she knew that. Then she remembered girls back then weren't supposed to be very learned. She would either be hated or loved for her knowledge, but she would not pretend to be less than she was just to please these people.

"Yes," Giuseppe said. "People should always fight for the truth, don't you think?"

"I like to think I'm a truthful person," Rebecca said diplomatically.

Rebecca ate breakfast in silence. The servants from the kitchen brought in the cooked food and then, after that, a fruit salad. That was what Rebecca ate since the other stuff looked like a big pile of grease. The fruit, however, was actually fresh and was better than any fruit she'd had in a while.

After breakfast, though, Stefan did as he'd said he would and took her outside. They had to go past a beautiful garden and through a path that had oaks on either side. Giuseppe had warned them to stay close - apparently he hadn't told Stefan about his encounter the night before.

Once in the stable Rebecca was confronted with a big black horse. Stefan began brushing the animal down and asked if she'd like to try.

She declined. "I've - I've never really been around horses."

"Well, she's not dangerous. You can pet her if you want. Her skin is tough; you won't hurt her."

Rebecca took a timid step forward and slid her hand against the horse's nose. She'd seen it done in movies before. The animal leaned into her hand. The skin was tough, but it was also smooth and it seemed the horse liked to be touched.

Rebecca noticed there were two stable boys who were tending to the other horses - there were four others - and then there was an overseer for the stable boys.

"Father said you don't know how you got here," Stefan said, breaking the silence.

"I don't. I woke up in the road."

Stefan looked at her with sympathy but didn't say anything. There was nothing to say.

Rebecca wondered what the people back home were thinking about her. She'd changed so much in such a short time. She'd quit all her activities and now she was missing. Elena and Bonnie would probably be freaking out. Maybe Sheila would try to explain things to Bonnie. Caroline and everybody else would probably just think she had run away. It was no secret that she'd had enough of her dad's issues. Nobody would understand.

Except for Stefan. He would be able to remember these new things, right? And right now . . . Right now she was stuck. She'd seen enough witchcraft movies to know that spells couldn't just go away. Someone had to undo the magic or the spell had to run its course. It would end after the spell succeeded.

What had the spell been for anyway? Why was she here?

Hear these words, hear the rhyme, heed the hope within my mind.

Had she been hoping for anything? Peace of mind maybe . . . But she didn't need to go back in time to get that, right?

Send me back to where I'll find what I wish in place and time.

Okay . . . Obviously there was something here she was wishing for and needed to find. But that didn't make sense. What could she possibly want from this time period?

For the first week Rebecca kind of just walked around the grounds in a sense of unreality. She still couldn't believe she was there in 1864. At night she would cry in her room . . . Bed chamber, that was what she was supposed to call it. Her breathing would reach the hyperventilation level and she'd either pass out or cry herself to sleep.

She hardly ever saw Giuseppe, but she saw Stefan every day. They got along okay. He made sure she was comfortable and always had what she needed. They talked about books, most of which she'd read in school at some point in the recent past - or would it be future since she was technically in the past now?

Giuseppe had been nice enough to follow through on his promise of more clothes. There was a ball coming up soon and he'd asked her to be there. Sadly, she would have to get used to wearing a corset. Up to this point she hadn't been forced to wear them.

On the last day of the first week that she was there Damon came home. She'd heard him and his father arguing. Stefan assured her that that was pretty par for the course. Damon and his dad had never gotten along because Damon thought for himself. Well, Damon had told her that he hadn't gotten along with his dad.

Even through the anger, Giuseppe was perfectly polite when he introduced her to his other son. Damon had kissed her hand, much like he'd done the first time he'd met her in the future. She blushed this time, too, and had lowered her eyes before looking up at him again.

Rebecca made a mock curtsey and Damon grinned; his eyes danced with amusement.

"It's nice to meet you, Damon."

"Likewise, Miss Rebecca."

This time it was he who complimented her eyes. He liked how they sparkled like emeralds when she smiled, which caused her to smile.

In the days that followed Giuseppe began to talk. People's animals were getting killed - throats torn open, bodies drained of blood; vampire. Apparently it was causing quite a stir in this town.

Rebecca was of the opinion that if the vampires were feeding on animals then at least they weren't killing humans, and if they weren't killing humans, then it was none of her business. So she went about her life spending time with Damon when she could. He seemed to like her - his eyes lit up when she walked into a room she was in and vice versa. This Damon was just as playful as vampire Damon - maybe not as flirty, but she didn't mind.

Right now she was in the stable with both the Salvatore brothers and the stable boys. The stable boys were Tabitha's sons, and like Tabitha they had been surprised when she'd told him just to call her Rebecca. Apparently they thought she was their superior and therefore she would treat them as such.

Whatever. A person was a person to her. Skin color didn't matter. Or social status. Personality was what mattered.

The two stable boys were around fourteen and their names were Emmett and Jonas. Rebecca had watched them work a few times and had offered to help. The overseer, Joseph, had been shocked and had told her it was very unladylike to offer help to servants. She'd ignored him, for the most part.

The servants of the household called her Mizz Becca. They were almost reverential to her, which made her a little uncomfortable but she knew it was because she treated them as her equals and not as her inferiors.

Stefan and Damon were friendly with the help, but their father always expected perfection. Didn't he know that nobody was perfect in this world? Both Stefan and Damon were sweet and smart and the three of them got along well. She was comfortable around them both. Stefan was good to talk to and Damon made her feel free.

Stefan was the more serious of the two brothers. Damon was more . . . the wild type. Rebecca liked it. Her life was boring aside from the Slayer thing and she needed some excitement in it. He wasn't only wild, though. He was sweet too. He was gentle with her, always. He didn't know if it was because she was a girl or because he liked her, but he was never harsh or demanding. If she didn't know better she would've considered him soft spoken.

Damon, soft spoken? Wow . . . The one in the future was definitely not soft spoken. It was almost funny to think that about him.

"Come on, Miss Rebecca, up you get."

Damon put his hands on her waist and began lifting, but she grabbed his arms.

"Up?" she asked.

"On the horse," he said. He had stopped lifting, though, and was now waiting for her to give him the go ahead.

"Oh. No. No, no, no, no, no. I am not -" She looked into his blue eyes and stopped rambling. She just went with, "I don't think I'll feel secure if I have to ride sideways."

That was how girls rode when they were wearing a dress, right? Side-saddle? She was not getting on a horse if she wasn't able to hold on with her legs; she might fall.

"We will be on either side of you," Damon said. "Ready to catch you, should anything happen."

Damon still had his hands on her waist and she still had her hands on his arms. It was probably not appropriate but it seemed neither of them cared. Damon's eyes were so . . . sincere that she couldn't say no.

"Fine . . . But don't let me fall."

"Never," Damon said, smiling softly. His eyes had softened exponentially and she felt her insides doing the same.

He placed her up on the horse and she waited until she felt safe and until her nerves were calm before she let go of him.

"Okay, lead the way," she said, grabbing onto the reins, praying she wouldn't fall.

Damon was studying her apprehensively, so she smiled reassuringly. She was touched he cared so much about her safety and comfort.

Stefan began going on about wanting to go to the University of Virginia - wow, that was around back then? - and how he wanted to study to be a doctor. Giuseppe wanted him to wait until the war was over to go away to university. So . . . Sending Damon away to fight in the war was okay, but Stefan going to college wasn't? What kind of logic was that?

Then they were talking about the new store that was opening in town, an apothecary. A woman named Pearl and her daughter Anna had recently moved to Mystic Falls and Pearl was going to run it. Rebecca hadn't been into town yet, but she was hoping to soon. Sadly, this was a time period where women were not allowed to do much on their own.

As the ride went on she began to slip around the saddle.

"I'm going to fall off," she said, grabbing onto Damon's shoulders after letting go of the reins. "Help me down?"

"Of course."

A she was helped down her body pressed against his and she noticed his breathing hitched and her breathing stopped altogether for a second. When her feet were on the ground Damon respectfully stepped away from her, but she could see his cheeks were flushed.

She smiled widely, openly because Damon Salvatore was blushing - she was making him blush. It was adorable. Human Damon was so cute.

"You have the sweetest smile I have ever seen," he said softly, almost whispering. The honesty in his voice took her breath away - again. She was going to die of oxygen deprivation if she wasn't careful. Then Damon seemed to realize what he'd said. "I'm sorry. That was terribly inappropriate."

"Not at all," she assured him while feeling extremely happy with his compliment.

"Ahem," Stefan teased. "I am still standing here."

"Sorry, brother." Damon looked at Stefan but then smiled Rebecca's way. "I was so entranced I forgot you were there."

Rebecca bit her lip so she wouldn't end up grinning like an idiot. But now Damon wasn't the only one blushing; he still had charm, that much was obvious.

As Rebecca spent time with Damon she noticed that he was strong and fast for a human. The war, probably. She had no problem keeping up even when Stefan lagged behind. Damon seemed to be surprised that she could run as fast as she could. They played a sort of cat-and-mouse game. She would run and he would chase, because he was always the cat.

She noticed that Damon had lines around his beautiful eyes and she didn't know if they were stress lines of laugh lines; he did like having a good time.

It was still September and the weather was still warm. Damon had planned a picnic spread for them, assorted with all her favorite foods. Basically he'd packed anything he'd noticed that she had a taste for and most of it was sweet stuff.

Rebecca couldn't believe it, but she appeared to appeal to him on some level. She appealed to him even though she knew she must act strange compared to other girls who lived in this time period. Maybe he liked her because she was an oddity; that thought terrified her because what if he lost interest?

Damon had set everything up near the pond by their house. Though pond was a loose term; it was bigger than a pond and the water was pretty much clear. The afternoon sun beat down on them pleasantly as they talked and ate and then talked some more. He always said something to make her laugh, which would then make him laugh. He obviously liked making her happy.

They'd been spending a lot of time together, but never alone until now. This date - right word for the time period? - would decide whether or not she would continue falling for him.

Damn. She was falling for him. Hard. Bad, bad, bad. She didn't know how long she'd be in this time period and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him by just disappearing. And according to what had happened when the spell started, that was exactly what would happen. She'd just disappear. But she couldn't just stay away from him, not now that she knew him. Not now that he was a part of her life.

When she looked up at him he was suppressing a smile.

"What?" she asked, flushing from the attention, which made him smirk. Human Damon liked that she blushed too.

"I'm trying to figure out who you are." He smiled. "You're hiding something. You act like you don't remember anything so you don't have to talk about it."

She swallowed against the nervousness bubbling up because she'd been found out.

"Don't worry. I wasn't going to tell anyone. I promise. It's just you're difficult to figure out."

"I'm a mystery, huh?"

"Definitely."

Rebecca sighed heavily. How the hell was she supposed to explain herself to him? She didn't want to lie to him because he'd be hurt and angry if he found out.

"I . . . went to sleep at a friend's house . . . And when I woke up I was in the middle of the road, and now here I am."

Her chest tightened and her throat began hurting with unshed tears and words she'd left unspoken for too long. But, hey, he'd asked so she was going to be honest - or as honest as she could realistically be.

"I don't have anyone anymore. I don't know how I got here and I can't go back."

She covered her face with her hands and tried to hide the tears as they fell. She still wasn't comfortable sharing her pain with others and she was surprised when Damon gently removed her hands from her face and wiped the wetness away himself.

That was when she noticed the difference between human Damon and vampire Damon. This Damon was sincerely concerned and sympathetic and wanted to make her feel better. He wasn't playing a game. His eyes were so . . . expressive. There was a whole range of emotions flickering through them and she had a hard time comprehending many of them. Vampire Damon's eyes weren't like that. They hardly showed anything he didn't want others to see.

But now she could tell that he was upset because he'd upset her. Then suddenly he'd lifted her up off the ground and placed her on his lap where she froze for about ten seconds before deciding she didn't mind crying in front of - or on - this Damon. He was genuinely concerned for her and it was okay to open up to someone like that. Though she did feel kind of silly being held on his lap like a child. She was glad she was not wearing a poofy dress. She was just wearing a simple white one.

Damon didn't say anything while she cried, he just held her until she was done. She got his shirt all wet with tears, but he didn't seem to mind. She liked being close to him, she realized. It felt natural and right and good. Meant to be, almost.

It was ridiculous, of course, even entertaining that notion. They literally came from different worlds. In her time period he was old enough to be her great-great-great-great grandfather.

"Feeling better?" he asked softly, beginning to caress her hair.

"Mm. Thank you."

"Not a problem." His hand went from her hair to her cheek. "You're eyes aren't sparkling anymore." He sounded seriously aggrieved.

"No. But I'll be okay. It's just hard."

"You're not alone, Rebecca. Stefan and I are very fond of you."

"I sensed that." Stefan was more reserved, but Damon was very open with what he was feeling. That was odd since she knew him in the future, too, and saw how he was then.

Rebecca pressed her forehead against his and watched his eyes close peacefully. The only problem with that was she couldn't look into them anymore. Then she kissed him softly on the side of his mouth and his eyes snapped open; he obviously hadn't been expecting that.

"Was that inappropriate?" She blushed.

"If I say yes, would it stop you from doing it again?" he teased, but the question was a very real one.

"No. If people want to talk, let them. They don't really know me."

Besides it was just one little kiss, what could that hurt?

Damon smiled genuinely, like he'd really appreciated her answer. Then he kissed her properly on the mouth this time. She felt a thrill run through her. She'd been kissed before, certainly, but it had never felt right, like this. It was soft and sweet and tender, it made her want to cry again, only for an entirely different reason this time. No one had treated her with such care before; no one had made her feel so special.

She pressed her mouth more firmly against his, giving him permission to deepen the kiss. Her hands went to the back of his neck and caressed softly; his hands went to her waist. He didn't react oddly to her touch like vampire Damon did. This Damon was probably used to the affection; she'd seen Stefan and Damon hug many times.

Not to mention he was in the war. Soldiers had to take their pleasure anywhere they could get it. Then she wondered if that was all this was to him. An amusement, a distraction. Was that what she was.

When she pulled away she noticed Damon was confused and slightly disappointed, but not angry.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just . . . What is this? What am I to you? You're older than me, so I know you're used to intimate relationships, but I don't want that." She flushed when she remembered they were in quite the intimate position already. "I mean, I don't want just that. So if that's all this is to you then -"

He interrupted her by kissing her again. She was caught between being annoyed and being appreciative. She'd seen movies where she'd felt like slapping the guy for cutting the girl off mid sentence, but in this instance she found she didn't really mind. Damon was still being soft and sweet and he wasn't mad she'd asked what she had.

"This is two people who like each other getting to know each other better. You are rather secretive; I hardly know anything about you."

Her head fell to his shoulder and she whispered, "Ask me a question. Ask me anything." She could hardly keep everything a secret after the way he'd just kissed her.

She would be as honest as possible.

"You said that . . . You didn't have anyone. Did something happen to them?" He was asking carefully; he obviously didn't want to upset her again.

"I don't know. But they're not here."

That was true enough. She didn't know and they weren't there. She was hoping everyone she cared about was safe and had moved on without her; she hoped they hadn't spent too much time worrying.

"Some of the people I knew I can definitely do without, but I miss most of them. Um . . . My mom died about eight months ago giving birth to my sister. I don't get along with my dad. We argue a lot."

She wondered how bad things were between Chelsea and her dad now that she was gone. She wondered if things had escalated at all. Of maybe they had gotten better now - maybe Robert would have no choice but to step up and be a father now.

"My dad is an alcoholic and he refuses to take care of Chelsea. He blamed her for our mother dying even though there was no way it could have been prevented. My aunt is there now, helping. Um . . . I have friends who I consider to be family, siblings of a sort."

"Tell me about them," Damon said, sounding genuinely interested.

"Okay. There's Elena. She's sweet - a little nosy, but . . . she cares about others more than she cares about herself. There's Bonnie, she's a good friend; she's like a sister to me. Uh . . . There's Caroline; I tolerate her for the other two. Matt is like the older brother I never had; he looks out for us girls. Then there's Jeremy - that's Elena's brother. He's a little troubled. He and Elena lost their parents recently. He's fifteen, she's seventeen."

Damon listened with interest and then asked her to tell him about herself.

"Okay, um . . . Number one: I hate talking about myself."

She laughed a little and he smiled at her admittance.

"Do it anyway," he prompted softly.

She bit her lip nervously. Her life, before the whole Slayer thing, had been boring and redundant. What was she supposed to say?

"Okay, then. But after, you have to tell me about you too, okay?"

"Sounds fair."

She looked into his eyes to make sure he was being honest and when she was satisfied that he was being she began speaking.

"My life was based on routine. It was safe, never changing. I liked it that way for a while. Then I realized I wasn't exactly living life; I was just existing. But . . . I was too scared to change it. I knew what people expected of me, what I was supposed to do. So I did it. I don't want to be that person, but I'm scared of disappointing people. There's a whole other side of me that my friends don't know about."

She realized that, as she was speaking, everything she said was the truth. It terrified her, being this honest and open with someone.

"More recently, as me and my father started fighting, I spent less and less time at home. I kept finding things to keep me busy, away from him. It was so hard to be happy at home. I'm actually glad I'm not there at the moment."

She ran her fingernails across the back of his neck because she was happy she was with him. She smiled when she felt him shiver slightly. She understood the feeling.

"Um . . . I used to write," she admitted. "Songs and poems mostly, but I haven't had much time to do it lately. Or much inspiration."

"A female writer? Most people look down on those." Damon was teasing; she could tell because of the half smile on his face.

"I don't care," Rebecca said honestly. In her time period they were pretty popular. "I like it. It's one of the things I sincerely enjoy in life. Um . . . Music. I like music. I used to sing, but not so much anymore. People say I'm good, I don't know."

She'd been the female soloist in her junior high choir; she'd stopped when she'd reached the ninth grade. She'd also played the piano. She was just a creative person. She loved everything that involved expressing yourself through creativity. That was why she'd gotten along with Jeremy so well, she thought, because he was an artist too.

"Will you sing something for me one day?" Damon asked, his eyes and voice tempting her.

She flushed slightly and looked away so she wouldn't give in right away. "Maybe." She hadn't sang or played in front of anybody in a long time.

"Yes," he said, "was supposed to be your answer."

"Well, I said maybe. It depends."

What could she sing here, in this time period? He wouldn't know the song and it wouldn't fit with anything 1864 had to offer. But she didn't fit in 1864 either; she always had to remind herself of things she wasn't supposed to be doing.

"Your turn," she said. "Things about you."

She decided it was time to move off his lap so she did and then curled against his side. He wrapped his arm over her shoulder comfortably. Apparently, now that the awkward first kiss was over - or the not so awkward first kiss was over - he was okay with being affectionate.

"May as well start at the beginning, yes?" He took a deep breath and Rebecca nodded. "Stefan's and my mom died when we were young. Stefan doesn't remember her much, but I do. She was . . . She deserved someone better than Father." He said the word as if it offended him. "Mother was sunny and always laughing, she was always happy. It flummoxed father endlessly."

Flummoxed? Even though the topic of conversation was less than funny, Rebecca had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at that word coming out of Damon's mouth.

"I will admit I was a handful when I was a child."

"You're a handful now," Rebecca teased and Damon grinned unabashedly. "Go on."

"Mother didn't care. Grass stains, muddy clothes. It drove Father crazy, but that was half the fun."

They both laughed at that. Enjoying driving people insane - she could totally see that. It was a little petty, but she could still see it.

"Classic naughty boy, huh?" she teased, knocking him in the chest with the back of her hand. Then more seriously, "I'm really sorry about your mom. You loved her, I can tell, and I know how hard it is to lose someone you love."

"Hm. Father became worse after she passed away. He wouldn't even let us grieve properly. He removed most of Mother's things a few days after she died, stored them in the attic. He didn't even leave her picture out to honor her memory."

She pictured all that happening in her head. She knew grief could make people do weird and sometimes awful things.

"Sometimes," Rebecca began, "sometimes an awful person is less awful when they're with the one they love. When they lose that person it's like they lose their sense of self. They say and do things they normally wouldn't. Does . . . that make sense?"

"Yes."

Damon looked at her and she noticed he was looking at her with something very close to admiration, so she ducked her head briefly.

"You remind me of her. She forgave everyone's faults even though some people don't deserve it."

"Right. Some people . . . You have to forgive them because they need it, not because they deserve it." She bit her lip, trying to suppressing the sympathy she had for him; he probably didn't want her pity. "That was when you started watching out for Stefan, isn't it?"

No, it wasn't obvious like Rebecca's taking care of Chelsea, but it was a completely different situation with Damon. Stefan was not a baby, he didn't need taking care of; he just needed looking after.

"Someone had to; Father wasn't going to. Father sneered whenever one of us shed a tear over Mother; he thought it was weak."

"Crying over someone you love is not weak," she exclaimed, horrified at the thoughts that Giuseppe must've driven into his sons' heads. "Horrid, bigoted man."

"Time went by. I started thinking for myself. Father hated it. I'm the bad son, always disobeying."

"Doing what you think is right and disobeying are two very different things. Besides, sometimes what you want and what other people think is best . . . Well, I know it can cause hard feelings between people, but you should never do anything you don't want to do."

She realized she should follow her own advice, but she kind of missed carefree Damon at the moment.

Damon smiled, but then his eyes took on a dark look. "I agree with that. Last time I listened to Father . . . was when he wanted me to join the war. It's . . . I'm not going back."

Rebecca didn't say anything to that. She just moved closer to him, whatever that was worth. She couldn't imagine the horrors he'd witnessed on the field. She knew that death changed people, seeing death did even more damage.

"I can't fight for something I don't believe in."

"So don't," she said simply. "It's your decision and it doesn't matter what anybody else thinks. Do what you want."

She vaguely wondered, not for the first time, if she was changing anything too drastically. She knew things wouldn't stay the same, not completely. Things had been set on a different path just by her being there. She just wondered if the words she was saying were going to do more harm than good.

"Father is planning an end of summer dinner and dance," Damon began, obviously changing the subject. "Will you allow me to escort you?"

"I would be honored to go with you, Damon," she said, accepting the subject change gracefully. She grabbed onto his hand, which he allowed her to keep hold of. "Um . . . I don't know how to dance, though." Not the dances that existed in 1864 anyway.

"Don't worry. I'll teach you. It's all in the leading."

On the way back to the house Damon and Rebecca stopped by the stable because they'd noticed Stefan leading his horse into the building. Rebecca heard a weird whooshing sound, and turned to look at the noise.

Emmett, one of the stable boys, was about to be whipped. What had he done to deserve such punishment? Emmett was maybe fourteen, he was a child. Nobody should mistreat a child, no matter the reason.

Rebecca rushed forward and as the whip flashed toward the boy she let the leather strip slash across her own arm where it wrapped around a few times and she yanked it away from the overseer of the stable. Pain shot up her arm, but she ignored it for the most part.

"How dare you interfere?" Joseph said.

"How dare you mistreat a child?" She had half a mind to turn the whip on him, just to see how he liked it.

The man's eyes flashed in anger and he drew his hand back to strike her, but Damon interfered this time. He'd grabbed the man's arm before he could even make the blow land.

"Don't you lay a hand on her, Joseph. And leave the stable boys alone."

"He wasn't doing his job."

Damon's usually soft blue eyes were now hard and angry and they had a cold, electric look to them. His eyes changed minutely with his emotions, Rebecca realized. That was good to know.

"He will have a harder time doing his job with a sore back, will he not?" The question was rhetorical. "You may leave."

Damon had been too shocked to do anything about Rebecca's interference before. He had never been around a woman who had cared enough to interfere with a servant's punishment. But when Joseph had been about to strike Rebecca something in him had snapped. Rebecca was a sweet person; she didn't deserve to be mistreated. Ever. It had been brave of her to step in to protect someone beneath her status. It had stunned him when she hadn't flinched when Joseph had raised his hand to her. Either Rebecca hadn't been scared on she was used to being mistreated. Hopefully it wasn't the latter.

Damon had an irrational anger at the thought of anyone hurting Rebecca. He'd felt protective of her from the moment he'd met her, he was very attached to her.

Joseph had left and now Rebecca was comforting Emmett even though her arm was bleeding from taking a lashing from the whip. He went to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Come on. We'll get you both inside. We'll take care of you."

Damon helped Rebecca; Stefan helped Emmett. Emmett had already been hit twice before Rebecca had stepped in. They helped them to the parlor of the house. Damon knew he needed to take care of Rebecca's wound or it might get infected.

When he got her by herself he began cleaning her cuts with alcohol. He noticed she bit her lip to keep from crying out from the sting.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You shouldn't have done that. You saw Joseph, what he was going to do to you, what he did do to you. It would've been worse had I not been there. He would've hurt you."

Rebecca lowered her head briefly, but he tilted her chin back up.

"I'm not angry with you. Just be careful from now on. And if Joseph tries anything, come to me. Promise me."

"Okay," she said softly. "As long as you're not angry."

"I'm not. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

She smiled and said, "I know. But nothing's going to happen to me, Damon. I can . . . handle myself if Joseph tries anything."

His eyes closed as she brought her hand to his face and caressed gently with her fingers. It felt right, him being comforted by her. Her touch was soothing yet thrilling at the same time. She had a strange yet exciting affect on him.

He'd never met a woman quite like Rebecca before. She wasn't a simpering moron like a lot of the women he'd met. She was knowledgeable and obviously brave. She wasn't only interested in finding a husband. There was a long list of reasons why he was interested in Rebecca, but the fact that she was different was one of the main ones.

Okay, so quick update again! LOL These were little patches of her life in the 1800s LOL. It doesn't show Damon a lot when he's human in the show but from people that knew him then . . . I've heard he was kind, so that was how I made him. I used bits and pieces of information from the Stefan's Diaries series. Anyway, I hope you liked it. And I hope the language was 'proper' enough. LOL

Let me know what you think? Thanks. :)