Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)
Founder's Day
Mystic Falls, 1865
It was strange coming out of her mouth, but an innocent Clarissa giggled as her husband pulled her into their bedroom in the Fell household without breaking their kiss. He didn't shut the door, and she suspected that it was for a reason to be explained later. He kissed her lovingly, his hands around her face and his lips giving her the sweetest kisses he could possibly manage. The husband and wife duo were happy, to say the least, after one week of blissful marriage. No one had interrupted them or requested much of their help. Because of the war, it was impossible for them to take a real honeymoon somewhere else; it was just too risky.
"I," Christopher began as he kissed her once, twice, and finally pulled away to look into her eyes, "am going to go get something for us to toast to. It won't take me long."
"Sounds perfect," Clarissa whispered with a genuine smile as her hands slid down to Christopher's vest. He kissed her again before pulling away entirely, getting out of her grasp.
"I love you, Clarissa," he said seriously. She nodded at him and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth without saying it back. He didn't notice, however, and just left the room without saying much else. She was aware that he knew, for some unique reason, that she couldn't say the words "I love you" in a sentence. And, for another strange reason, Christopher never quite cared. He accepted it, she realized, and had moved on.
Clarissa sighed and turned back to her room—their room, really. She had moved into the Fell household since she became a Fell, but it wasn't that bad. Her father and her mother came over to visit often, seeing as they were still in the same town and they were friends with Thomas and Honoria. She was…content with her lifestyle. It hadn't gotten boring…yet.
When Clarissa turned hearing the door open just a smidge after Christopher had pulled it shut to go downstairs, she expected to see him at the doorway. Instead, she saw Katherine Pierce, waiting with an innocently vicious smile.
"M-Miss Pierce," Clarissa breathed out, quite startled from the intrusion. "H-How did you—?"
In something that Clarissa couldn't explain, Katherine maneuvered herself so that she was standing right in front of the blonde in the blink of an eye. Clarissa widened her eyes and braced to scream, but Katherine's hand was over her mouth to restrain her, and then she felt her head hit something hard and her eyes fluttered shut.
"Ow, this dress hurts," Elena bellyached as she clasped her vervain necklace onto the back of her neck. Claire held up the human's curled brunette hair for her to get the necklace clasped without much of a problem. Hearing the complaint, Claire scoffed and met Elena's eyes with a hard stare in the mirror.
"Try wearing one every single day since the age of fifteen," she pointed out. Elena widened her eyes. "Yeah. It wasn't fun."
"Well you're lucky!" Elena gestured to the vampire's easy-flowing corset dress that she was forced to wear, too, as she was being honored for her help on the pageant. "You don't have to wear this ridiculous skirt."
"Yeah, heads up," Claire pointed out as she looked at Elena in the mirror. "That thing is super easy to trip on so…be extremely careful." Elena laughed a little, and Claire fixed the human's hair before taking a step back to admire her work. "Okay…I am officially weirded out. You look…exactly like Katherine. It really is...eerie."
Elena scoffed. "Thanks. Because that's what I needed to hear. I look like my evil vampire ancestor who forced you to become a vampire. Awesome," Elena taunted, turning around to try and fiddle with the tightness of the corset's strings. Claire slapped her hands away.
"Suck it in. And it wasn't really meant to be an insult…but I mean, coming from me, I guess it would sound that way." Claire admitted and turned to the mirror herself to make sure she looked presentable.
She didn't want to be honored for her help—especially since Carol insisted that her husband be up there with her. Christopher and Claire hadn't spoken a word to each other since the night before after their fight, and she was sure it'd be awkward. But she had to admit, she was appreciative of the fact that she got to pull out the only dress she saved from 1864—the only one she liked because it didn't have that ridiculous hoop skirt. The saturated blue color complimented the color of her pale hair and gave her skin a lift from being so pale, which was always a plus. Blue tended to help her in that aspect.
"So…" Elena trailed off as she turned in a circle and came face-to-face with Claire. She sighed, despite how impossible it was in the dress. "How are…things?"
Claire peeked at Elena from the corner of her eyes as she fixed her hair in the mirror. She sighed, too. "With Christopher, you mean?" Elena nodded. "Rough. Things are rough. When Isobel said that Damon was in love with me, it made the argument that we've had a dozen times just…come back up again. And I absolutely hate that argument."
Elena was silent for a while. "Do you…think that maybe…?"
Claire turned sharply to Elena. "Don't say it."
"What if she was right?" Elena blurted out before Claire could stop it. The blonde vampire just sighed again and tried desperately to avoid the conversation. "What if Damon is in love with you? Wouldn't that change things?"
Claire scoffed. "Of course not. Even if he were in love with me—which he isn't—I'm still married…"
Elena bit down on her lip. "But…did you ever think that…maybe you aren't?" she asked tentatively, watching as Claire looked up at her with a confused expression.
"I'm pretty sure the priest was legitimate, Elena. It was 1864, there was only one priest—"
"No, I mean…" Elena scrambled for the right words. "Look, you spent 145 years apart…and during that time, you kind of thought he was dead. But just because he wasn't doesn't mean that you have to still be in love with him. Feelings change. People change."
"I know." Claire nodded at her. "I have changed. He's changed, too. That's what we're fighting about, remember?"
"Maybe you're actually fighting because…well, because you know that you're trying to hold onto something that's not there anymore," Elena suggested. Claire waited, trying to process the theory. "I mean, maybe it's time to start fresh. If you want to make it work, you should get to know each other as vampires, not as husband and wife."
"But what if we don't like each other as vampires?" Claire asked with a frown, trying to let the idea sink in.
Elena shrugged. "Then I think you know your marriage is over."
"Look at you," Damon scoffed as he walked over to Christopher, who was studying all of the students rushing to get ready for the parade around him. Christopher looked to see Damon out of the corner of his eye, and he sighed. "All retro."
"What are you doing here, Damon?" Christopher asked, a little peeved. He didn't want to be talking to the reason he was on the outs with his wife, it seemed a little backwards. Damon shrugged as he came to his old friend's side.
"Why wouldn't I be here? Bonnie deactivated the Gilbert invention. Isobel's gone…" Damon scoffed. "And it's Founder's Day! I'm here to eat cotton candy and steal your wife." A smirk played on Damon's lips, but the statement just caused Christopher to shake his head.
"I'm not really in the mood for jokes right now, Damon. What we're going through is serious."
"I know. And it's seriously about me." Damon shrugged and rolled his eyes. "But, look, my brother thinks it's important for me to acknowledge the fact that you to are, unfortunately, married. So I'm here to tell you that I acknowledge it. Besides, married women aren't really my thing."
Christopher scoffed and resisted the growing urge to roll his eyes. There was a time when he admired Damon, when he looked up to him. But that time had long since passed when Claire told him that Damon was the reason she never realized he was in the tomb.
"Claire is your 'thing', Damon. You think that I don't know that?"
"I think that you married the woman I wanted to be with for my entire adolescent years." Despite the fact that it was a rude statement, Damon shrugged and gave Christopher a smile and a pat on the shoulder. "But I'm over it. Bygones, right?"
"I didn't have a choice," Christopher argued. Damon frowned at this. "You know how it went back then. You had already fallen through and I couldn't say no."
Damon let out a snort. "And, of course, why would you want to? It's Claire we're talking about here. But if you really believed that you were forced to marry her, then I suddenly do not feel bad at all that you two are fighting over me."
The other vampire scowled. "You don't feel bad either way, Damon. But if you must know, over time, I actually wanted to get married to her."
"Everyone did," Damon commented, annoyance lining the exterior of his words. Clarissa King had been the most beautiful woman in Mystic Falls before Katherine came—it wasn't just Christopher waiting in line in case her engagement with Damon fell through. Though their marriage was supposed to go off without a hitch, there still happened to be a crowd of men waiting on the other side in case of emergency. The betrayals bothered Damon, but it was so long ago that he rarely gave it a thought anymore.
"What's going on here?" another voice asked, and Damon and Christopher looked behind them to see Stefan appear, dressed in the same attire as Christopher—southern-style clothing that resembled what they would've worn back in 1864.
Damon turned around at Stefan with a smile. "Christopher and I were just having a friendly little conversation about our beloved Clarissa."
Stefan looked back and forth between Christopher and Damon. His eyes eventually settled on his brother. "Don't start, Damon."
"I'm not starting anything! You're the one who got all protective…big-brother-y. Which is odd if you think about it because she's older than you by four years." Both of the vampires that stood on either end of Damon said nothing, and he just sighed at them. "Look, I totally get it. I'm the better, hotter, superior choice. And now that Katherine's out of the picture, it makes…some sense that I'd turn all my attention to Claire."
"It doesn't just make some sense," Christopher pointed out. "It makes perfect sense."
"I haven't thought about her that way in…years," Damon assured the two heroic vampires before him. But he was lying, plain and simple. "You two have absolutely nothing to worry about."
The statement seemed to be holding ground, but it all fell through once Damon's eyes wandered beyond the two retro-styled vampires that stood before him. Both Stefan and Christopher turned around to see Claire and Elena walk out in daylight across the lawn, seemingly looking around for them. Damon's breath caught involuntarily, and his eyes narrowed as if he was seeing something that he'd never seen before. He could feel something different about the way his eyes made contact with her body. Instead of the usual response he had where all he wanted to do was have her shut her opinionated little mouth and stay quiet while he had his way, he found himself actually admiring the way the light radiated off of her hair or the way she clenched and unclenched her fist out of anxiety.
There was some truth to his statement—Damon hadn't thought about Clarissa in a particular way in years. Or, the statement was true...until he saw her then.
Claire spotted the three vampires first, and Elena second. First, their eyes both roamed over Stefan, who gave them both small smiles to reassure them. With one lingering look to his brother and his best friend's husband, Stefan walked over to the two, greeted Claire, and watched as Elena bowed to him teasingly. After a good laugh, Stefan took Elena away to talk with her in private and Claire let her head come back to Christopher and Damon, who were just staring. An awkward feeling rose in Claire's chest, and she was about ready to turn on her heel and leave.
Before she could, Christopher cleared his throat and walked in front of Damon and away from Claire, causing the blonde vampire to sigh. Married life, she realized, was not everything she thought it would be. Once Christopher was gone, Damon made his way over to Claire, who tried giving him a smile so he couldn't see through the rock-hard wall she kept up around him. However, Damon had spent so much time with her over the years that he knew her tells. It was easy to see that she wasn't handling all of it very well.
"Now if that isn't a blast from the past! Marianne's birthday dinner…1861?" Damon recalled with a smirk on his face. He decided not to dwell on the obvious...at least, not yet.
"1862," Claire corrected and arched an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you remembered it, though."
"It's hard not to remember the dress that you wore when you threw a poker at my head." Damon's lips turned down. "You're lucky I ducked out of the way."
"I'm sorry if I was pissed because you decided to drop the bomb that you were joining the Confederacy...the night before you left," Claire admitted, taking out a shaking breath. Damon smiled almost proudly, but Claire avoided his gaze. Eager to move on, she looked to the side to find Stefan and Elena in the middle of a stressful conversation. "What's that about?"
Damon hummed under his breath. "Wanna know a secret?" She looked back at him. "John Gilbert is Elena's biological daddy."
Her eyes went wide with shock, and she let out a laugh in hopes of it just being a joke. "You're…you're kidding, right?" He shook his head tightly, causing her to straighten and drop her smile. "Y-You're not kidding? What the…how?"
"Well, Claire, when a man and a woman—"
Claire put her hand up in the air to stop him. Damon smiled again. "Ah. I'm all good on that. But thanks. So…Isobel and John?" He nodded this time, causing her to visibly shudder. "God, I think I want to puke. That's disgusting."
"Why?"
"Because it's…John. And…and Isobel." Claire covered her mouth with her hand. "And now I can't get the…the image out of my head!" Damon shrugged carelessly and looked around at the crowd. The blonde vampire just let out a sigh and dropped her hand from her mouth. "Wow. That's gonna be really hard for Elena."
"I would think it would be easier for her. You know…now she doesn't have to meet some stranger and start calling him dad."
"Yeah, but it's…John we're talking about. First of all, she spent her entire life thinking that he was her uncle. Secondly…we all know what an ass John Gilbert is. That can't be easy to take in."
Damon gave a look of approval. "Point taken."
Still looking after Stefan and Elena, Claire finally saw the two part when Elena went after her brother. Feeling awkward around Damon for the most part, Claire turned back at him and tugged her bottom teeth between her lip before jerking her thumb back to Stefan. "I should probably..."
"Yeah, you should." Damon nodded in agreement. She gave him a tight smile.
"I'll see you after the parade, then." It was an awkward goodbye, but it did the job. Claire picked up her dress and started walking towards Stefan, who walked forward a few steps to meet her. Once she got up to him, she sighed. "So your girlfriend's uncle is her biological father, huh? Pretty messed up."
"Well, Damon seems to think it's a pure fact, but there's no real evidence, so we can't be sure until she asks him," Stefan clarified. Claire's mouth dropped and she nodded her head with an "ahh" sound in agreement. "So…how are you doing?"
Claire sighed. That was twice she'd been asked that question, and she didn't want to hear it again for the rest of the day. If she did, she was afraid she might explode. But since it was Stefan, she gave him the benefit of the doubt. "I'm fine…for now. It's going to be super awkward up there on that float, though. Jesus. Have you ever heard of a wife feeling uncomfortable around her husband?"
"I think it actually might be more common than you would imagine," Stefan commented, earning the other vampire to shrug. "And…how are things with Damon?"
Claire shrugged again, trying to pass it off as if there was nothing to think of when it came to the elder Salvatore brother. "Fine, I guess. Damon is Damon, you know that."
"It's just…I'm a little worried," Stefan admitted, clearing his throat. "I don't really want to see you get hurt, Claire. And I feel like Damon getting into your marital problems is going to do just that."
"Damon…" Claire trailed off, trying to come up with the words. "Damon…is the least of our problems, I think. Christopher and I don't really…know each other. As vampires, that is. I think we just…jumped into things too fast after the tomb. After so many years, it's just gotten to the point where we're…different." Stefan nodded in understanding as Claire sighed. "But yes, Damon's a part of the problem."
"I know you both care about each other," Stefan began, nodding. "But…and I know I've asked this before and everything but…have you two ever…?"
This was the point of sheer lying to Stefan: there was no way around it. If ever confronted about this lie, she would be screwed. Claire shook her head. "Stefan, of course not. I mean, sure…back when we were teenagers, there was…something, but it was over too fast. Nothing happened."
Stefan eyed her carefully, but just eventually ended up nodding. "Good. I just…want you to be happy, Claire. It's all I've ever wanted."
Claire let a smile start to overcome her face, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. "You're too good to me, Stef." She pulled him closer into a hug, and she squeezed him a few times before pulling back. "Thanks."
Stefan smiled and looked down at her dress. "Marianne's birthday dinner…1861?" he tried. Claire frowned.
"1862."
"I'm almost positive it was 1861."
"Almost positive. Not positive." Claire pointed at him. "It was 1862. Trust me." Looking behind Stefan, Claire spotted Elena just give an outward sigh as she watched her brother walk away from her angrily. With a raised eyebrow, Claire watched Stefan turn around to look where she was. "What's happening with them?"
"Oh…Jeremy's upset because of what happened that night Vicki died." Stefan turned back to her and jogged her memory. "Remember…I told you, Damon compelled him to forget?"
Claire nodded. "Right. Right, I remember. You said the kid was devastated. Why is he so pissed off?"
"I mean…it was supposed to be his choice, Claire. I can kind of see where he's coming from," Stefan reasoned. Claire just shook her head.
"Maybe. But Elena had a valid reason from what I've heard." Her lips twitched down in sorrow. "God, I hate it when siblings fight. You and Damon, especially. Family's just...to important for that kind of stuff, you know?"
Stefan grimaced. "So…it's okay when you and Damon fight, but for me and Damon…?"
"Totally unacceptable," Claire finished with a shake of her head. Stefan chuckled under his breath, his smile as genuine as ever, and Claire laughed right with her friend and the two moved to get on the parade float.
Clarissa groaned as she stirred from her state of forced sleep, and she found herself lying down…seemingly on grass. She lifted her head to found that she felt light-headed and her vision spun before her, making it hard to see in the already difficult light of the evening. Crickets chirped, the sound of water rushed, and a slow, smooth voice sounded in her ear.
"Wonderful. You've woken."
Once Clarissa's vision straightened, she found that Katherine was standing by the river just on the edge of town, smiling up at her vindictively. Clarissa felt something warm on her head, and she reached up to find that, when she pulled away, blood coated her fingers. She gasped and looked up at Katherine.
"You…harmed me," she accused, the blood evidence enough. "W-Why?"
Katherine stepped forward. "I had planned on killing you in your own home, but…well, what fun would that be?"
"Killing me?" Clarissa repeated, shaking her head. "Why would you want to kill me? I've done nothing to you."
Katherine's smile dropped immediately. "Even on the brink of death, you can sit here and lie to my face?" Clarissa looked up at Katherine with confused eyes, and this made Katherine clarify. "You've lied to everyone, Clarissa. Your parents, your husband, your best friend. You and Damon Salvatore did not argue over a childish vase!"
For fear of death, Clarissa could not lie anymore. She nodded. "He kissed me."
"He loved you," Katherine rectified, using her own opinion as evidence. "He still does. And I know that you won't hesitate to take him back."
"I'm married," Clarissa fought, finding the will to stand on her own feet. "And I am not an adulterer! I will not cheat on my husband!"
Katherine shook her head and gave her a sad smile. "I don't believe you, Clarissa. Even if I did, it doesn't change the fact that—as long as you're alive—Damon will never truly be mine."
Clarissa swallowed as she came to a stop on her own two feet. The blood loss from her head was getting to her, and she was becoming weaker. "I have no interest in him. He knows this, too. I only tolerate him because I'm friends with Stefan!"
"That's not good enough," Katherine said simply. "There is something about you…that I don't particularly like."
Clarissa felt her head spin even more. She was being punished…because she simply was not liked. How was that fair, in any world? Before she had a chance to object, Katherine was at her again, and Clarissa suddenly felt herself unable to breathe. Water molecules covered her face, freezing her features as she was divulged in the cold water. She kicked and flailed to breathe again, and Katherine finally brought her out. Clarissa emerged with a gasp, trying to gain air. Goosebumps appeared on her arms, and her teeth started to chatter from the ice-cold water.
"How is it that he ever loved you?" Katherine hissed, her eyes narrowing. "It doesn't make any sense at all."
"Katherine—" Clarissa was forced back into the water again. This time, it lasted longer than the last one, and the pressure that was being applied to her wound on her head was making her cry out under water. Finally, Katherine brought her back out again, letting her breath. Clarissa's pale hair dripped with the river water, falling on her dress, her face, and Katherine's hand.
"I should kill you," Katherine snarled. "It would be so simple. But it would be painless. Death is too kind for someone like you." At this point, Clarissa was crying, having no way out of it. Katherine was ruthless—vile. She just wanted it to be over. Suddenly, Katherine gasped. "No! No, you won't die. Not yet."
For a moment there, Clarissa thought that Katherine was going to let her go. Relief filled her, but instead, she felt pressure on her mouth, and a rustic liquid was being forced down her throat. Clarissa tried to keep it from falling down her esophagus, but it was pointless. Katherine made sure her mouth was open and that she swallowed all the blood being forced into her system. Eventually, Katherine brought her hand away from Clarissa's mouth, and the human just choked and doubled over, her wet hair adding to the weight on her head. Katherine let her have a moment to breathe before grabbing her head again to stick her underneath the freezing cold water.
"Say goodbye to your human life, Clarissa King," the vampire sneered, and after another minute of keeping Clarissa underneath the water as she flailed, she finally ceased.
All around the town square, members of Mystic Falls gathered around the streets to witness the parade floats that were presented with much extravagance and creativity. Carol Lockwood stood up at a stage that was set up with a microphone mostly for this purpose, reading off of index cards to introduce the parade floats as they were to go by.
"Let's give a big hand to the Mystic Falls High School marching band!" Carol announced in the microphone, causing the crowd to cheer and applaud for the club that walked by on their feet, playing music to be in the background of the parade.
Once the marching band had passed the checkpoint for Carol to move on, she began with the first actual float, "And, for a little local history, Mr. Saltzman's students have recreated Virginia's Battle of Willow Creek!"
The high school students waved at the crowd as their parade float went by. Each of the students was dressed in Civil War era uniforms, complete with blotches of "blood" on them for emphasis.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Carol began slowly, "please welcome our stunning Miss Mystic Falls court and their handsome escorts! And let's give a round of applause to Claire King and her husband, Christopher Fell, for their contributions to our outstanding pageant!"
Out in the street, the Miss Mystic float slowly drove by with the instruction of a red truck. On the float, Caroline and Matt stood at the very top, Elena and Stefan right below them, and the two pairs of contestants and escorts that placed equally. Each of the proper girls waved out into the crowd, their bodies turned to reveal their luxurious dresses. Claire and Christopher stood at the end of the float, waving out into the crowd as they applauded for the float.
"This is Caroline Forbes, Miss Mystic Falls!" Carol called out, and everyone applauded for her. "Aren't they beautiful?"
Out from the crowd, as Claire waved to all the kids and parents who decided to try and capture her attention, she spotted Damon as he emerged out into the front of the crowd. With his eyes down and devilish, his lips curled into a smirk and he gave her a taunting wave and a wink, which Claire just sighed to and moved on, pretending like she didn't notice. However, even though she wanted to pretend like it didn't happen, it did—and she wasn't the only one who noticed.
After the parade was over and Claire was allowed to change back into her normal clothes, she decided to walk into the Grill to get an afternoon drink, seeing as it was much needed with the level of uncomfortableness up on the parade float. She was positive Christopher had seen Damon's inappropriate little gesture out in the crowd, and it wouldn't surprise her if Stefan and Elena had seen it also. Even though it was still daylight outside, the sun was setting and it was time to relax and sit back while the rest of Founder's Day dragged on. Apparently, there were fireworks later, which potentially could be something interesting.
Damon, who had been standing in the Grill to pass time, watched as Claire walked into the Grill dressed for modern times again, and he found himself appreciating it. It seemed odd, since he grew up with her back in 1864 where girls wore the same clothes that she was wearing earlier, but there was something about the modern clothes that was nicer. Deciding to speak up, he stepped in front of her and smiled.
"I like you better like this," he confessed, earning Claire's attention. She slowed seeing him, and they came to a stop in front of each other. "The period look is definitely better served staying in my memories."
Claire scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder teasingly. "I know. I'm more badass this way, right?"
"Super badass," he agreed, his eyes unconsciously rolling over the length of her body again. Claire caught the gesture, and when his eyes returned to hers, she tensed up for a moment before letting out a sigh and crossing her arms. Damon realized that she went from being the fun, light Claire to the uptight one.
"Okay…listen," she started, almost looking like she was kicking herself because she had to have this conversation with him. "I really…I don't want to start anything, but we need to talk. There are a lot of people...worried about us getting along."
Damon cocked a grin. "Did Stefan mention something to you, too?"
Claire nodded. "He asked me if anything had ever…" She gestured between the two of them, but then backed out. "Whatever. We know what happened, but it's in the past. And…I know I'm having problems or…something, but I need you to know that, that um…" Damon waited and watched as she struggled for more words. It was fun, almost, to watch her grasp for any kind of out. "Obviously we can't forget about what's been going on between the two of us, but I'd like to move past it. Be friends again, o-or something."
Damon and Claire held each other's gazes for a while before Damon scoffed. "Claire, I don't think I can ever truly be your friend. That was one of the reasons we started our secret arrangement in the first place, remember?" She stiffened and swallowed and Damon studied her reaction with caution. Seeing her disappointment, Damon sighed heavily and amended his statement. "But, I suppose I could find another rude, self-entitled, unbelievably badass blonde to keep me satisfied."
Claire looked up at him and saw him smiling, clearly trying to be funny about it. She laughed. "I know you're joking, Damon, but we both know that's exactly what you're going to end up doing."
"Yeah...well..." He shrugged carelessly, moving on from it.
Behind Damon, she could see Elena and Jeremy in the midst of another argument where Jeremy was pissed at her. The words "Go to hell, Elena" crossed both Damon and Claire's hearing range, and Jeremy just stormed out after that. Elena sat down at the table at the Grill, completely exhausted from arguing. Claire shook her head at it. Damon could see her bite the inside of her cheek and run a hand through her hair frustratedly, and he realized what was going on.
"Do you remember my eighteenth birthday?" Damon asked suddenly, turning his head so that he wasn't facing Claire. But he could clearly see her eyes on him.
"Vaguely. Why?"
Damon crossed his arms. "Well, while you were talking to Stefan, I was talking to your sister. I remember her practically talking my ear off about what a wonderful person you were, like I didn't already know. You were...fifteen, I think. Amelia was ten, and she looked up to you like you were some kind of...goddess or something."
Things were silent for a long time before Claire scoffed. "Should I be worried? Damon Salvatore being sentimental? I think this might require a newspaper article."
Damon snorted. "Don't get too comfortable. I was just trying to make you feel better."
Claire narrowed her eyes. "What makes you think I feel bad?" she asked skeptically, and Damon now let his eyes wander over to her. He pursed his lips and shrugged.
"Well, don't you?"
Another silence ensued before Claire finally broke her gaze from Damon, sighed, and turned to the mopey Elena who was disappointed with her brother's behavior. "I just feel sorry for Elena. My personal opinion is that Jeremy's being way too rash, but I understand where he's coming from. Still, it makes me think of all the pointless fights I had with Amelia. Things that could've been avoided. That's why you frustrate me sometimes when you pick fights with Stefan that are useless."
"Claire, Stefan and I aren't the same as you and your sister were." Damon looked at her with heartless eyes. "We have our own problems that can't just be solved by...ignoring them or locking them away. It's just not possible with us."
She scoffed. "But, Damon, what's the point in living an eternity if you have no one to share it with?"
"I have plenty of people to share it with." Damon smirked. "Women, as a matter of fact."
Claire scowled. "You know that's not what I meant. Having someone to share it with isn't just limited to someone you're in love with." She kept eye contact with Damon, even though the elder Salvatore uncomfortably shifted and looked around the building. "One day, you're going to realize that Stefan's all you've got left."
Damon watched as Claire frowned at him and walked off to Elena at the table the human sat at and tried to help her through the rough time with Jeremy. With a frustrated sigh, Damon just turned and tried to push Claire's words out of his head as he left the Grill.
When Clarissa woke, she woke gasping and panting, dripping with water. She was lying on the grass like before, but this time, she was sitting up straight as she came back to life. All she remembered was being drowned…once, twice, and finally a third time until it all went blank. Had she died? Did Katherine spare her? All she knew was that she was confused, wet, and…thirsty.
"It would be wise for you to wonder why I didn't just kill you," a voice spoke, and Clarissa looked to the side to see Katherine again, this time with one of the townspeople by her side. The girl was just over sixteen and wasn't a Founding Family. Clarissa didn't know her name, but she'd seen the girl around. What was confusing to her was why she was there. "But I won't make you suffer with questions I can answer. You will die…eventually. However, I determined that it would be more fun if you suffered first."
Clarissa's hand came to her throat as she looked at the girl that was walking beside Katherine with bland, empty eyes. "What…what is she doing here?" Clarissa asked.
Katherine smirked. "You have to feed to complete the transition, of course. Then the real fun can begin."
"Transition?" Clarissa stood again, finding no weakness in her bones. Instead, she found agility she didn't know she had. "What…transition?"
"To become a vampire, you must feed," Katherine snapped impatiently. She gestured towards the girl. "On human blood."
Clarissa looked back and forth between Katherine and the human, shaking her head. "Vampire? I'm not a vampire. I don't…I don't want to be a vampire." The thought was almost laughable—vampires didn't exist, anyway. Katherine smiled.
"Good. Because you don't have a choice in the matter." Katherine spun the girl beside her around in her arms and Clarissa watched with fear as Katherine's face transformed into that of a demon's. Her eyes turned into bloodshot slits with veins that marked the skin underneath of them and inside her mouth appeared fangs that looked sharp enough to break skin. Sure enough, Katherine lunged forward and sunk her teeth into the human girl's flesh, and the human girl let out an unfiltered scream that Clarissa was sure would wake the entire town. Instead, no one seemed to hear them, and Katherine pulled away from the girl. She shoved the body to Clarissa, who had no choice but to catch the girl in her arms. Fresh blood marked the wounds on the girl's neck, and it was right at Clarissa's mouth. Katherine watched with victory as Clarissa struggled with herself. "Don't have me come over there, Clarissa. Drink it."
Clarissa tried—she tried so hard to defy Katherine's orders, but the blood was too powerful. It overcame her senses and scratched at her throat so that it was impossible for her to resist the urge to bend down and consume the droplets of blood.
That's what she did—she leaned down and licked away the blood that formed on the girl's neck, and it immediately sparked a frenzy within her. Clarissa could feel her face turn into something that felt like Katherine's looked, and her teeth elongated into fangs that were sharp enough to cut through skin. Bending down again, they did exactly that—and the blood from the human flowed freely into her throat.
No one stopped her—Katherine wasn't going to, and being a newborn, Clarissa didn't know how. The girl's screams were in her ears until Clarissa felt the life in her arms slow to the point where there was no heartbeat and no sign of any sort of human life.
"Do you remember Barbados in '95?" Claire asked Stefan through her laughs as she, Stefan, Elena, and Christopher walked through the town square together reminiscing about old times as they waited for the fireworks. "And that naked guy on the bike who totally just wiped out and hit our windshield?"
Stefan snickered at the memory. "That was not a pretty picture."
"It really wasn't," Claire laughed, but her chuckle was short-lived when Elena looked to her side to see Damon holding her hand in his, cutting into the conversation. Elena raised an eyebrow at him.
"Err…Damon? What are you doing?"
"Saving your life. Fifteen words or less." Damon looked up at Claire, Christopher, and Stefan with serious eyes. "Tomb vamps are here. Founding Families are the target. Get her out of here. Now."
"Wait," Stefan stopped him as Damon tried to leave. "W-Where are you going?"
"That's more than fifteen words, Stefan!" Damon shouted as he fled the crowd. Claire shook her head, a bad feeling settling down deep in her stomach. She looked back at Stefan, who locked eyes with her.
"You handle Elena. I'm going after him." Stefan nodded immediately, silently thanking her for looking out for his brother.
"Claire," Christopher tried to stop her, but Claire was gone before he could get a second word out. He wanted to go after her as well, but Elena had proposed another problem—her brother was in the crowd. Seeing as Claire had taken off without a second thought to him, Christopher just sighed and let his wife leave.
Claire rushed up to Damon and touched his arm to capture his attention. Damon sighed at her. "I thought I told you to get Elena out of here."
"Stefan and Christopher can handle it. Where are we going?"
"To kick John Gilbert's ass. This guy is getting on my last nerve," Damon growled under his breath. Claire sighed.
"You and me both. But he's Elena's dad, remember?"
"I never said anything about killing him," Damon reminded her. Claire shrugged and they finally walked across the town square just as the fireworks began to start high up in the air.
This was a problem that Claire had not seen coming, and she had to admit that there was never a dull moment in Mystic Falls. Finally, the two ended up at Dr. Grayson Gilbert's old office building, to unsurprisingly find John inside. Damon shut the door, earning John's attention.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" he asked John, who turned around at the intrusion and didn't bat an eye.
"Yes. As a matter of fact, I do." Damon sauntered forward to start his battle with the Gilbert, but instead, John just turned his hand and looked back at the two vampires who had ironically come to him. The second the invention clicked on, Damon and Claire both heard a piercing shrill in their heads and came to a halt. John listened with sick ears as he heard the sounds of Claire and Damon screaming while they grasped at the hairs on their head and dropped to the ground. The piercing sound ensued, strong enough to prevent them from doing anything else but screaming.
This gave John the leverage he needed to pull out two vervain-filled syringes and look down at the vampires on the floor. He knew that, on the other side of the door to his brother's office, all of the other vampires in Mystic Falls were being rounded up just the same. Without wasting the time that he had while the invention was still running. John stepped forward and injected both vampires in his presence with the vervain in the two syringes, causing them to stop their screams and fall completely unconscious for transport down to the basement.
"The device is done. The only thing keeping them down is the vervain," John informed the deputy that accompanied him down in the basement with all the vampires that were spewed across the floor. "We don't have much time. Let's finish this."
The deputy began to drown all of the vampires in gasoline, spreading it around so that it would eventually catch up to each and every vampire so they would all burn like they were meant to. On his way out of the basement, John Gilbert felt a hand wrap around his ankle, and he looked down to see a weak, desperate Anna panting on the floor.
"Anna," John realized as he stood over her. Claire stirred a few feet away from them, waking slowly from the vervain injection. She didn't have to move to see Anna and John in front of her since her body was turned that way. Her eyes were the only things that were able to move, and for that, she was grateful. There was no telling what the deputies would do to her if they knew she was awake. Claire watched as John looked at the deputy who was finished dosing most of the vampire with gasoline. "You can head up. I'll take it from here."
Anna grunted on the floor and tried to get up, but it was pointless—she was too weak from the vervain injection. Claire spotted John as he pulled out a stake from his back pocket and stood over Anna. Her face softened in realization of what he was about to do, and she could see Anna begin to protest from the floor.
"Please." Anna shook her head. John squatted down so that the stake would be level with her heart. "No!" But it was too late—John plunged the stake right into her heart, causing the vampire to arch as her undead heart came to a slow and her skin turned that greyish color that all vampire turned into once they died. Leaving the stake in her heart, John got up from his toes and grabbed the can of gasoline on his way out. Going backwards up the stairs, he spread the flammable liquid across each stair until he reached the top and lit a match, lighting the basement on fire. The orange color reflected in Claire's vision and she watched as all the vampires closer to the flames met their inevitable endings.
Finally finding the will to roll over, Claire found herself on her back with her head turned to the side. Damon was lying beside her, stirring himself with the faintest groan possible. She watched as his eyelids fluttered to an open position, and he muttered, "C-Claire."
"Damon," she whimpered, watching as the flames spread all around them. Damon's eyes flickered across the room to watch all of the flames jump higher at the ignition of the gasoline, but his attention was distracted when he saw Mayor Lockwood sitting up against one of the wooden poles trying to shield himself from the fire.
"Mayor," Damon groaned. "Is that you?"
"Claire? Damon?" Richard asked as he removed his hand from his face to see them. A trail of blood ran from his ear to his neck as if he had been internally bleeding. "What are you two doing here?"
"We're vampires," said Damon simply. The mayor's expression turned on a dime the second Damon confessed, and he looked as if he had seen a ghost. "What's your excuse?" Claire watched as the mayor tried to move away from them, but she shook her head.
"The vervain didn't affect you. You're not a vampire."
Damon looked up at the mayor with confused eyes. "What the hell are you?"
But Mayor Lockwood had been too busy trying to get away from Damon and Claire, who wouldn't hurt them, that he found himself in the lap of a tomb vampire who instantly recognized the important Founding Family member. The tomb vampire smiled victoriously.
"Mayor Lockwood," he greeted before wrapping an arm around the mayor's neck. Richard struggled, but all it took was one large push until the mayor's neck was snapped in half, and the body fell limp on the vampire's lap. Damon and Claire's question went unanswered, not like it would've mattered.
"Oh, God…" Claire bellyached as she looked up at the ceiling, which was starting to glow orange. A tear escaped her eye as Damon looked over at her and saw her come to the same realization he had. "Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. We're going to die."
"No…" Damon groaned as he forced himself up from the floor. "No, we're not. I'm…I'm gonna get us out of here."
"Damon…" she tried, but he wouldn't listen. He kept trying to get off the floor, as painful as it was under the effect of vervain, but a sound distracted him from his ultimate goal. A beam on the ceiling of the basement collapsed right beside Claire, the fire eating away at the wood like it was good food. Damon coughed weakly, and continued trying to get up from the floor. Seeing his struggle, Claire stopped him, unable to watch as Damon repeatedly sacrificed himself just to get them out. He would die if he went anywhere near the fire at the stairs, and she knew it. The fire was engulfing them and there was no way out of it. "Damon! Damon! Stop it! Stop it!"
Damon collapsed at last, unable to continue his pressure of heroism, and Claire shook her head at him. Damon's eyes connected with hers. "Bonnie…" he growled. She wanted to be angry, but there was no point to it. She knew Damon was thinking the same thing.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'm so, so sorry, Damon. I really thought we could trust her."
"I know, Claire." Damon nodded against the floor. "I know."
Christopher Fell returned from the town to the solitude of his own bedroom. He didn't speak much to anyone for the past two weeks—his wife had been taken from him in the middle of the night and everyone seemed to think that the Union soldiers kidnapped her out of spite. He hated the fact that her disappearance was being used as an excuse to further the water—Clarissa wasn't some pawn in a battle, she was his wife. And she didn't deserve to be remembered as the innocent victim who was kidnapped in her home as a wretched act of Union soldiers.
He didn't want her to be a victim at all. He wanted her to show up and give him an excuse to why she left. The thought had crossed his mind that she left…she left him. Willingly. That she ran away because she was unhappy with him. He thought she had been happy, but things could change.
Her family, devastated over her disappearance, decided that since no word had been spoken of her for almost two weeks, she deserved a proper burial. Christopher thought it was rushed—especially since they didn't know anything for certain—but he didn't get to make the decision. In everyone else's eyes, he was a lovesick husband who'd just lost his wife.
The same had been done for Amelia when she had run away, even though it was blatantly obvious her departure was willing. The town chose to believe that their heir was dead rather than gone. So it wasn't a surprise that the Kings were planning it so quickly. It was starting to become a pattern, whatever the case may be.
But that all changed in the moment when Christopher entered his bedroom and shut the door, only to find that Clarissa was sitting on his bed, staring at her hands that were folded in her lap. Her hair curtained her face, but he knew it was her. He would always know.
"C-Clarissa?" he stuttered in disbelief. He heard her sob, and feeling as if it were his duty, he walked over to her and sat down on the bed, trying not to rejoice in her return. Reaching out, he swept her hair across her neck to reveal her flushed face covered in tears, and he gasped. "Darling, what's the matter? Where've you been?"
Clarissa looked over at him but just sobbed, refusing to say anything. She cried harder, for a reason that Christopher was unaware of. He watched in confusion, but jolted when another voice joined in his bedroom.
"Tell him, Clarissa." Christopher looked beside him to find Katherine Pierce standing at the foot of their bed. "Tell him now."
"Miss Pierce," Christopher greeted, but he was deeply confused. Clarissa sobbed harder next to him, and he didn't know what was going on. Christopher turned to his wife. "Tell me what?"
"Christopher…" Clarissa sobbed, shaking her head. "I…I…"
"What is it, Clarissa? What is it?" Now the confusion had turned to sheer pain at the curiosity, but she just stared at him with bloodshot eyes. Christopher watched as her face transformed, and small veins appeared underneath her skin and her teeth barred, flashing a set of…fangs. Christopher gasped and jumped off the bed in surprise. "W-What is going on here?"
"She's a vampire, Mr. Fell," Katherine explained, victorious at the way Clarissa's husband looked at her—with fear. "A demon. A monster. The town thinks she's dead…and in some form, she is."
"I-I didn't have a choice," Clarissa cried, looking over at Katherine. "S-She made me this way."
"A vampire?" Christopher repeated, gulping down the scream of terror that threatened at his throat. "Y-You're a…a vampire?" He knew the town was after them; he had heard his father's meetings with the other Founding Families. Vampires existed, he knew that. But his wife? His wife was a vampire? That was something new, and something terrifying.
"Please," Clarissa pleaded to him, sobbing again. "Please try to understand…"
Christopher swallowed, slowly taking it all in. His eyes flickered to Katherine, who stood with a triumphant smile, and he soon realized that she, too, was a vampire. The one who turned his wife, no less. Christopher wanted to scream and make the town aware of Katherine, but he didn't want to turn in his wife. For some strange reason, he found himself wanting to protect the blonde who sat on his bed, sobbing out of shame. It seemed that she was more terrified of him than he was of her.
"Clarissa…" Christopher trailed off as he walked towards her with extreme caution. "Clarissa, I…I do understand. I do." He bent down so that she was looking down at him and he looked up at her. She looked at him and sucked in her cries, confused.
"You do?"
"I do."
"You don't hate me?" she asked tentatively, almost scared as if he'd say that he did. But how could he? She was sitting right there, practically sobbing her eyes out at the off chance that he wouldn't accept her for what she was. Christopher had a feeling that there was more to this—that she wasn't just sobbing over him. Katherine loomed over her as if watching to make sure she didn't step out of line, and Christopher realized that Katherine was the one who was doing this—the one making her sob. It wasn't him.
He shook his head firmly. "I don't hate you. I love you."
She nodded at him, but he could see the disappointment in herself that lined her eyes. "But…I'm a monster."
Christopher shook his head again in refusal. "Darling, you're not a monster. You're not a monster."
Beside them, Katherine's face turned red with anger. She looked between Christopher and Clarissa and tried to compose herself. "Fine. If he won't be afraid of you, then I suppose you two can't see each other."
"Katherine, please—" Clarissa protested, but Katherine yanked Christopher up from the floor and held him by his shirt collar.
"Forget that you saw us tonight. Forget everything about me and forget about Clarissa. Your wife is dead and there is nothing that you can do about it." Katherine said while looking deep into Christopher's eyes. Clarissa watched her as she did this mind control trick, and it seemed to work.
"I will forget that I saw you tonight. My wife is dead."
Damon and Claire had laid in the midst of the fire in silence for the longest time, the two of them slowly realizing that their deaths would come very quickly and would be slow and painful. It was one thing to die; it was another to wait in anticipation. It was an extensive time before Claire finally turned her head to find Damon staring at her, and she bit down on her lip and looked down at his hand, which was just inches from hers. Slowly, she moved it over so that her hand was grasping his, and almost immediately, Damon pulled their fingers to lace together.
They were silent until Damon let out a sick chuckle. "Would you look at that?" He sighed. "Claire and Damon, holding hands. Hell has frozen over at last."
Tears dotted at the corners of Claire's eyes as she laughed, finding relief in Damon's sick humor. Through a weak voice, Claire teased, "After everything, I guess it makes sense that we'd be the ones to die together." Another silence. "Damon?"
"Hmm?" His thumb subconsciously stroked the back of her hand, and she felt her heart shatter into a million little pieces as she realized that death was around the corner.
"I—"
Suddenly, Damon and Claire heard a whoosh, and they looked to the staircase to find Stefan and Christopher as they rushed down the stairs that had suddenly become escapable. The two heroic vampires rushed to the sides of the people most important to them, and while Stefan helped his brother up from the floor, Christopher swept Claire into his arms. Damon and Claire's hands broke off, and the two vampires immediately flashed out of the burning building as fast as they could. The flames grew behind them, though, sealing the rest of the vampires inside so none of them could escape their fate.
Claire and Damon were both coughing and groaning when Stefan and Christopher brought them out into the fresh air. The vampires were weak and half-dead, but they were luckily still alive. Christopher put his wife down on the ground and inspected her, trying to see if anything else was wrong other than the vervain.
"Claire? Claire, open your eyes. Look at me." Claire coughed and opened her eyes, finding the dimness of the night still too overwhelming for having been almost barbecued in a basement. Christopher sighed in relief and kept her upright in his arms while murmuring that she was going to be okay. The rest of the vampires inside the building perished, but Bonnie had managed to save the two that Elena actually cared about.
When all had died down about the fire, Claire felt that she owed it to Anna—who had been an honorary guest at her own wedding—to help Jeremy, who she knew Anna had been dating since Elena had told her earlier on at the Grill before everything happened with the fire. Also feeling that she owed it to Elena to fix whatever was going on with her brother since Elena was the primary reason she was saved earlier in the night, Claire found herself at the Gilbert house at Jeremy Gilbert's bedroom door. She didn't want to invade his privacy, so she knocked on the bedroom door and waited for him to turn around.
"Hi, Jeremy," she said, giving him a small smile. She wasn't really in the mood for fun and games since it'd only been an hour since she was almost killed, but she still managed to smile.
"Claire," Jeremy acknowledged, remembering her from the times they'd met. "What are you doing…in the house?"
"I'm…sorry," she apologized and gestured into the room. Jeremy nodded, and she stepped forward, crossing his bedroom threshold. "I don't mean to…overstep any boundaries or anything since we don't really know each other, but I thought you should know." Jeremy waited patiently as Claire swallowed and rubbed her hands, feeling sweat gather on them. She'd never had to tell someone that their girlfriend was dead. "Anna's…dead. I saw her die tonight."
Jeremy looked surprised, but regardless, he said, "I figured that once they took her away."
Claire nodded. "Elena told me that you cared about her. When I watched her die tonight, all I wanted to do was help her, but I…I couldn't."
Jeremy shook his head and swallowed. "Why are you telling me all this?"
"Well, I know that…um, that Damon compelled you when your first girlfriend died. Vicki, right?" Jeremy nodded. "Well, I just wanted to try and see if you can understand where Elena's coming from. Sometimes, as older siblings, we make choices that may not always be the right ones. Mistakes. But no matter what mistakes Elena makes, it's important to forgive her for them eventually. Sometimes, life doesn't go as planned. You can wake up one day and she could be gone. Or...or, you could."
Jeremy cocked an eyebrow and Claire slipped a hand into her pocket as he asked her, "Do you have a sister?"
"I did," Claire told him immediately. He waited for her to elaborate. "She's dead now. Ran away from home when she was thirteen...I don't know why, though. Sometimes, I fear it had something to do with me. But...will you do me a favor? Just, see if you can try to forgive your sister? See if there's some part of you that understands inside?"
The two stood in silence until Jeremy hung his head and eventually nodded. He didn't say a word, and Claire knew she had gotten through to him, so she moved on.
"Uh…that's not really why I came, though. I thought I'd be the one to give you a choice this time," she admitted firmly. Jeremy raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. "Though Elena's intentions may have been pure…you are right. It wasn't her decision to make. But…I can take it away this time. If that's what you want."
Jeremy's eyes moved to the ground, and he sighed. "Look…I know that it might…seem like Damon took it away last time, but it's still there. Even if I can't remember why, I still feel empty. Alone. And making me forget won't fix it. It won't fix what's really wrong."
Claire stared at him, but she understood exactly where it was coming from. She nodded at him and gave the Gilbert a tight smile. "Like I said, Jeremy. It's your choice. I'm really sorry about Anna."
She turned to walk out of Jeremy's room, but before she could get more than three steps out, Jeremy called out to her, "Anna said that vampires don't have to feel pain. That they could turn it off if they shut out their humanity."
Claire turned back at him, and she realized that he was asking her, not telling her. Her head moved up and down. "It's true, vampires can shut out their humanity if they want."
"Is it easier that way?"
"Easier?" Claire repeated, confused. "Is…what easier?"
"Life," Jeremy clarified with a shrug. Claire stared down at the floor for a while, trying to come up with a good answer. Instead of giving a bullshit one that she knew was a lie, she just nodded.
"Life is…different when you don't have your humanity, Jeremy," Claire told him. "But I'm telling you…it still…blows. At least, if you're a vampire, there are times when you don't have to feel when you don't want to."
"Is that what you did?" Jeremy asked her. "When your sister ran away?"
"I wasn't a vampire then," Claire confessed, shaking her head. "But…if I had the choice? I would've turned it all off in an instant," she said honestly. "And life…would've definitely been a lot easier. For a while, at least."
This time, when she turned to leave the youngest Gilbert's room, he didn't stop her.
It was her only chance to get away from Katherine, and she took it as quickly as she could. She was still strong enough from the blood she'd had the first night she became a vampire, but she knew she wouldn't be strong enough if she had to go head-to-head against Katherine. She also had found out that the light now burned her skin, so she had to wait until she timed it exactly right to escape. The door was locked, but after an hour of uninterrupted time to try and bend the lock, she was successful with it. Her feet carried her as far as they would go, and she found herself running through the town's cemetery for some odd reason. She kept looking behind her, even though she knew that Katherine had retired to the Salvatore house for the night, but she felt like she was going to get caught.
It was when she ran right smack into a tree when Clarissa finally stopped and tried to catch her breath. She didn't know how to use her newfound vampire abilities, but she did know how to run.
What surprised her, though, was when she took a second to catch her breath. She found herself staring right into a carved tombstone that read: Clarissa King, 1842-1865. Beloved wife, daughter, and friend.
A tombstone? For what? She wasn't dead, she was standing right there! Curious, she came out behind the tree and walked towards the tombstone, wondering who they buried beneath it. If her body wasn't in a coffin, who was? Why did they all think she was dead?
How long had she been gone?
When she heard a human heartbeat come into view, Clarissa knew that she couldn't be seen by anyone. If someone saw her, they could scream…and then she could get tossed into whatever prison Katherine had been keeping her in once more. She didn't know how she did it, but she managed to get from the tombstone back behind the tree in less than a second so that the human eye wouldn't be able to see her. From behind the tree, Clarissa couldn't help but watch as a human came out with freshly cut red roses in hand.
What surprised her even more than all of this was who that human happened to be who came to a stop at her grave. It was…Damon.
He put the flowers on her grave the second he reached them and then he knelt down in complete silence. Clarissa tried not to breathe too loudly, but as a vampire, the instinct came natural to her. She watched Damon in stealth, still surprised that he would even care enough to come to her grave in the first place. She had treated him so terribly over the years—kicking him out of the house, throwing things at him, leaving him at the pond by her house when he was clearly interested in something more, and even throwing him out of her wedding—that she felt like she didn't deserve a visit from him. He had every right to hate her. Truth was, she'd only done those things because it was her only option left.
"They all seem to think that you're dead, somewhere. That the Union soldiers killed you like Katherine said." Damon hung his head and shook it, pursing his lips. "But I do not. I think you are very much alive. Or…well, I hope you are. This is an instance where I prey that Katherine is lying to us all. I never wanted you dead." Clarissa swallowed hard watching Damon as he clenched his fists so hard, his knuckles turned white. His eyes glistened over, and Clarissa felt her heart pain at it. Damon didn't cry—she knew he was trying not to, but he still looked like he was about to. "The truth is, Clarissa, I've loved you since we were kids. And there are no words to describe how much you hurt me when you rejected my love and married another man. But if having you back means having to suffer watching you with…Christopher Fell, I-I think I can manage it. I just…need to know you're okay."
"I'm not." Clarissa found herself saying. Damon jumped up immediately from the grave, looking around with widened, frightful eyes.
"Who's out there?" Damon asked the empty night, and Clarissa bit down on her tongue to keep from saying anything else. Damon waited for a long time before finally whispering, "Clarissa?"
She thought she'd been made, but instead, Damon looked all around, trying to find her as if he was hoping she was there. Unable to bear seeing his pained expression anymore, Clarissa drew in a deep breath and revealed herself from hiding, making Damon's eyes turn as wide as the moon.
"I'm not okay," she whispered brokenly. Damon could clearly see that from the mess of hair around her shoulders, the dirt that caked her face… "I'm not okay."
Damon sighed in relief seeing her, and his eyes projected a spark of hope. "But you're alive. You're…you're alive. I told everyone that—"
"Damon," Clarissa stopped him, shaking her head. He paused, waiting for her to continue. "I'm…I'm not alive. I'm…" She gulped. "Dead."
The dark-haired boy scoffed in front of her. "But, Clarissa, you're right—" Suddenly, Damon stopped on his own, and Claire prepared to explain to him what she was. Instead, Damon surprised her yet again by saying, "You're…a vampire?"
She looked up at him, her eyes widening. "You aware of vampires?"
Damon nodded. "Katherine's a…" he trailed off again, slowly coming to the realization. His voice dropped to a whisper, "Did she…did she turn you?" Clarissa nodded. "Why?"
She desperately tried to keep herself together, but she couldn't handle it. A tear streamed down her face as she said simply, "You. She turned me because of you. Because you love me."
Silence filled the air until Damon finally sighed, "Oh, God. Clarissa…"
She didn't want him to say anything else, though. She didn't want to hear it. Terrified, she stepped forward and pulled her lips to Damon, trying to find something to hold onto. Damon tensed, surprised, but it only took a second for his instincts to break in and for him to kiss her back. She'd only kissed Damon once, but the fire was still there—the passion was blinding. Even undead, she felt a connection to Damon that she'd never felt with anyone before in her entire life. She kissed him with all she had left, exhausted of fighting for her life, but she knew that it couldn't stay this way. He couldn't remember this. If she wanted to get away from Katherine, no one could know she was still alive. Not even Damon.
Clarissa pulled away, leaving both of them breathless, and Damon's hands came up to find hers on his face. His warm hands covered her cold ones, and he smiled just in the slightest.
"I'm so happy that you're alive, Clarissa. Even if you are a vampire," he whispered. She held in a shaking breath and pulled away, her eyes opening. Carefully, she copied the movement and look that Katherine had made when using her mind-control on Christopher, and she said words that fought their way out of her mouth.
"Forget that I was here," she instructed Damon, unaware of whether it would work or not. She waited and watched as Damon's pupils dilated.
"I will forget that you were here," he repeated, his voice monotone. Claire stroked the back of his hand and smiled.
"And move on."
"Move on," Damon repeated to himself, nodding. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Clarissa had moved back behind the tree and watched as a confused Damon stumbled away from the graves, missing the last few minutes of his life.
When Clarissa tried to move out from the tree to resume her escape, she felt someone come behind her and force her into the tree. Opening her eyes from the impact, Clarissa found an agitated Katherine with her vampire side showing right up in her eyes.
"Nice try, Clarissa."
When Claire opened the door to the Gilbert's front porch, she was surprised to find that Damon was walking up the stairs. She stepped outside and they both came to a halt as she shut the door behind her and walked out onto the dimly lit porch.
"What are you doing here?" Claire asked as Damon stepped up to get to level ground with her.
"I could ask you the same thing," he countered. Claire waited for him to answer first, and he eventually sighed in defeat. "Elena texted me a couple minutes ago. I was already on my way back to the house, so…"
"Oh." Claire shrugged. "Well, she's not inside. At least, I didn't see her in there." Damon nodded and waited for her to answer this time, and eventually she inhaled. "Right. I was…uh…trying to help Jeremy. I told him about Anna and asked him if he wanted me to do what you did."
Damon cocked an eyebrow. "What'd he say?"
"He said no; apparently, your compulsion didn't even help the first time. He wants to remember her." Claire slipped her hands into her back pockets.
There was a silence, a long one this time. The two avoided each other's gazes until Damon finally broke the ice, inhaling sharply. "You know…I came to this town wanting to destroy it…and tonight, I found myself wanting to protect it." They finally locked eyes, and Damon just smiled sourly. "How does that happen?"
"Self-evolution," Claire suggested quietly as Damon dropped his gaze. "Finally realizing that the world could use another hero rather than another villain?"
Damon practically laughed, shaking his head at the thought. "I'm not a hero, Claire. It's not…in me. That's reserved for Stefan…Christopher…Elena…you."
"You don't really…believe that, do you?" Claire asked, shifting uncomfortably. Damon's eyes moved up to capture her gaze, and she didn't tear her eyes away from him. The words were hanging right off her mouth: he was a hero, he just didn't know it yet. Instead of saying this, Claire found herself sighing. "Damon…"
"What were you going to tell me?" he interrupted her, as if the thought had been pushing at his mind and wouldn't stop until he found an answer. Claire tensed. "Before Stefan and Christopher came to rescue us, you were going to tell me something down in that basement."
Claire scrambled for words…for an excuse of some sort. Truth be told, she didn't know what she was going to say to Damon back when she was minutes away from dying, but she sure as hell knew that she didn't want to say the words that repeated in the back of her mind. Eventually, she just sighed. "I…was going to say that I was sorry."
"For Bonnie?" Damon raised an eyebrow. "You…already told me that, though."
"Not just for Bonnie." Claire shook her head. "For…for everything. Everything," she repeated, trying to make sure he understood. Damon and Claire kept their eyes on each other this time, neither one of them breaking contact. Damon was…surprised, to say the least, that she was actually apologizing for her actions the night that they first kissed. At least, that's what came to his mind when he wanted an apology. But he knew she was thinking the same thing.
"You know…" Damon trailed off, his voice quiet. He stepped forward, drawn like a magnet. "Sometimes, I wonder what it would've been like if we never kissed that night."
Claire remained quiet until she finally whispered, "I think it would've been the same, Damon. I wasn't…I wasn't ready back then."
"Ready?" Damon repeated, and she found herself closer to him than before. "Ready for what?"
Her eyes roamed across his features. "You," she said slowly, nodding once. "I wasn't…I wasn't ready for you." Silence enveloped them until Claire finally cleared her throat. "So…I guess I'm sorry."
Damon nodded at her. "I am, too."
A sad smile twitched at his lips before he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, something that was foreign to the both of them. But neither one of them moved or objected to it, they just stood there for a while until Damon pulled back hesitantly, now even closer to her. They didn't dare breathe or move or do anything of the sort to disrupt the moment that they were trapped in together. Claire could tell Damon was hesitant as he pulled back and stared at her lips, not wanting to ruin things for a second time by doing something that she didn't want. But she found herself actually…wanting it, for some reason that was unknown to every bone in her body.
With their eyes locked, Claire and Damon found themselves being somewhat pulled together, and Claire's hands reached up to hesitantly grip the collar of Damon's shirt just as they pulled their mouths together and melded into one bruising kiss without a single word. Since they were out in the open and were restricted, it was…different than the rest. Slower…hotter…deeper. Damon's hands moved up and tangled in the curls of her hair that were starting to fall flat, and his fingers didn't help that. The fabric beneath Claire's fingers almost ripped in half, but she made it a point to loosen her grip when she realized this. Despite her caution, Damon crushed her against him, leaving no space between their bodies as they stood just on the edge of the first stair.
It was a little strange, actually kissing after so many years of avoiding it, but it…worked, somehow. Damon's tongue brushed across her lower lip and she complied, opening her mouth to him and giving him complete access. It wasn't like their typical war; this was mutually serving. It was also wrong, plain and simple, considering that Claire had just tried to convince her husband not even a day ago that Damon meant nothing to her. There was no excuse in the world to make up for her actions, but she just couldn't help it. For some reason, some inexplicable reason, she was not able to shake Damon Salvatore from her life. Despite them being tied together by Stefan, they were tied by much more. Hatred; lust. Whatever they wanted to call it, there was something there.
But the fact that they had been kissing on someone else's porch was bound to get in the way, and it turned out to be the only thing that stopped them from taking it a step further. Someone cleared their throat, and Damon and Claire pulled away and turned to find Elena walking up the pathway to her house, a peeved expression at the two making out on her porch. Damon and Claire looked at each other, flushed, but then looked back at Elena.
"Um…hey…Elena." Claire coughed, trying to pretend like she hadn't been making out with Damon in front of her best friend's girlfriend.
Elena gave her a tight smile and looked back and forth between the two vampires. "Claire. Damon."
An awkward silence passed between the three until Damon inhaled sharply. "Um…Elena, you texted me? Said to meet you here?"
Elena looked at Claire and just returned that tight smile. "It's…not really important now, I guess."
Damon looked at Claire just as she looked at him, and they realized what a mess they'd gotten themselves into. All the people they lied to, they would know now. But instead of panicking, Damon and Claire tried to be calm about the situation and ride it out. "Uh, okay. I guess I'll just…go…"
With another glance back towards Claire, Damon stepped around Elena as he walked down the porch and Elena walked up with her dress in hand. Claire hitched her thumb to the open night. "Do you want me to go, too?"
Elena shook her head as she put her stuff down. "No. No, it's okay. You can stay." She crossed her arms having her hands free and looked off into the direction that Damon went. "So…you and Damon?"
"I…um…" Claire scoffed, burying her head in her hands. She began to laugh. "Oh…my God. What am I doing?" She took her hands off of her face and looked at Elena with wide eyes. "I am such a terrible person, aren't I? I just kissed…Damon."
"Yeah…you kissed Damon, all right." Elena snorted. Claire bit down on her lip in shame. "But…Claire…I think, before you start jumping into things…that you really need to know something first. It's been bothering me and, I've wanted to tell you for a while, but…"
When Elena trailed off, Claire raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
Elena looked up at her with guilty eyes. "Claire, do you remember how Damon said Sheriff Forbes killed Lexi?"
Claire nodded and crossed her arms. "Yeah. Why?"
"Because he lied to you," Elena said flatly, but her tone was still apologetic. "And it's been eating me up inside, but…but I needed to tell you. It wasn't Sheriff Forbes who killed her, it was him. It was Damon."
Claire stared at Elena for a long time before she scoffed and shook her head in denial. "What? Elena, that's not true. Y-You were there. Damon told me that he wasn't lying. That he wasn't the one who killed her."
"I'm sorry, Claire." Elena swallowed. "But it's true."
"Elena—" Before Claire could get the word out, the front door of the Gilbert house swung open to reveal Jenna, who looked at Elena with relief.
"Oh. Good. Elena, you're home." Jenna turned her head to Claire and gave her a small smile. "Sorry, Claire. But it's late." Jenna looked at Elena again. "You should come inside."
"Yeah. Sure," Elena agreed, nodding. She peeked at Claire, who was still shell-shocked from Elena's confession, but Elena just frowned. "I'll…see you later, Claire."
The blonde vampire didn't respond. Instead, she just stood, frozen, on the porch as Elena walked inside of the Gilbert house and Jenna shut the door. The wheels in her head were spinning violently, and she couldn't help but wonder if it were true.
Inside of the Gilbert house, Elena stepped through the threshold with her back turned to Jenna and a vindictive cat-like smile spreading like a disease across her lips.
"I looked everywhere," Elena grumbled over the phone Stefan held up to his ear. Stefan looked both ways to watch for incoming cars before he walked out onto the road to cross the street from the Mystic Grill. The Founder's Day drama had long since passed, and he had sent Christopher home after talking to him briefly to not worry about Claire. Stefan was convinced that they could make it work.
Raising his eyebrows in confusion for his girlfriend, Stefan replied, "What do you think, someone stole it?"
"Yeah. Someone definitely took my stuff."
"Do you want me to pick you up?" he offered politely. Elena sighed, but it wasn't a sigh of relief. The words were practically in her exhale.
"I just gotta check on Jeremy before I go to the hospital. Can you meet me there?"
"You bet," Stefan sung with a smile on his face, trying to be chipper after such a dark night. Damon and Claire almost dying really did a number on him, more so than it affected Claire's husband. Elena chuckled lightly.
"Okay. I love you, Stefan."
"I love you, too," Stefan agreed as they both mutually hung up the phone. Stefan unlocked his car as he stepped beside it so that he could get inside and go to the hospital. Apparently, during the time that the vampires were being rounded up in the town square, Tyler, Matt, and Caroline had all gotten into a car accident, and while Tyler and Matt were somewhat fine, Caroline had been severely injured. It was a human problem, but a problem nonetheless.
As Stefan opened the car door to climb inside, he heard a familiar voice behind him. A voice that shouldn't have existed.
"Hi, Stefan."
Stefan turned around to face a petite, blonde, breathtakingly gorgeous girl that looked not a day older than seventeen when she was really supposed to be 163. His breath shook as if he were seeing a ghost—and in a way, he was.
"Amelia?"
It's The Vampire Diaries. No one ever stays dead. So, Christopher and Claire are still on the outs, Damon and Claire almost died and actually ended up kissing, Katherine told Claire the truth about Lexi, and Amelia paid a surprise visit to Stefan. 2x01 should have flashbacks of Amelia pertaining to why the hell she ran away in the first place. Be forewarned: Next chapter will be another long chapter. But 2x02 isn't that bad.
Thanks for reading! Review if you can, please! I hope this finale chapter lived up to the expectations :)