Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter please :)
As I Lay Dying
She'd been staring at the cardboard box ever since Stefan had dropped it off earlier in the morning. It sat on her bed, taunting her, almost laughing at her pathetic presence. She wanted to kick it, to throw it, to punch it, and maybe to burn it, but she just stood across from it and stared. Everything Christopher Fell owned since returning from the tomb could fit in one box, and it was in her possession. She had to dispose of it. It was her responsibility.
Because he was dead—gone. As in not alive.
"It'll get easier." Claire's eyes broke away from staring at the box and, without moving an inch, she looked over her shoulder and realized who was standing at the door. Damon cleared his throat as he slipped his hands into his pockets solemnly and added, "But you know that."
He stood behind her, merely a few feet away, facing the back of her head anxiously waiting for her to turn around so he could see her face one final time. But without moving, she sucked in a deep breath and chided bitterly, "So you finally decided it was worth talking to me again?"
"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, causing Claire to straighten herself with a confused look that was hidden from him. Since when did Damon come to see her and the first thing out of his mouth was an apology? "I wasn't sure you wanted me around with, uh, everything going on."
She opened her mouth to try to come up with a response, but there was none that she could give him. What was the correct amount of time to mourn your deceased spouse and then run into the arms of the man you'd been sleeping with for nearly a century? Into the arms of the man that he knew you had feelings for? Into the arms of a man that you knew loved you? Did she give it a day? A month? A year? Every which way, a hole in her stomach burned with guilt.
Slowly, Claire turned around, swallowing thickly as she whispered, "I just don't understand why he did it. I didn't want to, but I was willing to sacrifice myself for Jenna. When the time came, I...I accepted it. I didn't want it, but I accepted it. I wasn't supposed to live. He shouldn't have died for me."
Damon paused, studying her face for a few moments, remembering every inch that made her beautiful features, before he finally brought his eyes up to hers and shook his head. "I wish I could say that I agree with you."
"But you don't. You never do." She smiled slightly, but a tear involuntarily fell down her face. She reached up to wipe it off, but then a sudden groan escaped her frustrated lips. "God, I thought I was over this whole crying thing."
"Hey..." He stepped closer, close enough to intoxicate her with his breath as he reached up and wiped a stray tear off of her face. She stared at him, watching as his fingers lingered for a moment or two longer than they should've before he tried to give her a smile. "You will be over it. Eventually."
"Thank you," she replied quietly as his fingers somehow found their way in her hair, brushing a few strands away from her face. He was mesmerized and she could tell, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the situation at her fingertips. But regardless, she reached up and touched the back of his hand, moving it away from her face and locking her fingers with his. He found comfort in the fact that she still cared enough not to slap him away, even after the death of her husband. And if he needed anything at that moment, it was that comfort. He hoped it never went away.
"Claire," Damon began quietly, looking down for a brief moment before sighing, "I need to be honest with you." She waited without speaking, watching as he took a brief moment before looking back up at her and confessing, "I...never broke that vase."
A moment passed, allowing Claire to process the statement for a moment, but then she gave an unimpressed frown. "Damon, we've been through this already—"
"I'm serious this time. I didn't break it. When you came to my house and started throwing a fit, I was completely clueless. But because of what you did to me, I let you believe that I did it because I hated you anyways."
She scoffed. "Well, if you didn't do it, then who did?"
The two stopped and thought to themselves before coming up with two different answers as the same time:
"Stefan."
"Amelia."
Damon watched as Claire's lips turned from displeased to suddenly happy, laughing at their outbursts as she realized that, though multiple things carried on their mixed feelings throughout time, the true cause of it wasn't even of their own doing. The dark-haired Salvatore tried to picture her laugh in his head, trying to get it to stick with him for the hours he had left. He wanted to remember it—he wanted to remember her. The last memory he wanted was her—to be in the position they were now, to hear her laugh, to witness her cry, but most importantly, to feel her lips one last time. And when she realized that his gaze had shifted from hers down to her lips, she deduced quickly what it meant and felt a kick in her stomach telling her to knock it off. Clearing her throat free of the seduction, Claire released Damon's hand from her own and turned her head.
"Um, I—"
Damon backed away, shielding his eyes. "No, I know. I'm sorry."
She turned her head back to him, grateful that he created space between the two vampires so she wouldn't be tempted a second time. She looked at him across the way, sighing, "It's not that I don't want to, I just...I can't right now. If you...well, let's just say I won't take it very well. I need some time."
He stared for a moment and then produced the best smile he could muster, though he ached inside. Her offer was sour; he wouldn't have enough time, but she didn't know that. He wished, so badly, that he could die with the taste of her lips on his for one final time, but he'd pushed his luck far enough. He knew he would have to leave her, the girl he loved since he was old enough to know what love felt like, without one last kiss.
"I understand." Damon nodded and turned for the door. "Take all the time you need."
And just as he moved away, right about to cross the threshold of the bedroom and head for the exit of the King estate, he could hear Claire call out over his shoulder, "I'll...uh, see you later, okay?"
He stopped just short of the threshold and knew that the next words following out of his mouth were going to be a lie. He turned around to see Claire as she turned away from him and back to the cardboard box of Clarissa's things, and he just nodded to himself and whispered, "Yeah. I'll see you later."
When Damon returned to the boarding house, everything was still and peaceful—the exact way he wanted it. The moment he stepped through the door, he knew what he had to do. He shred his jacket and laid it over a chair in the parlor before heading to the liquor cabinet in the room adjacent. He spent a moment shuffling around with the liquor, searching for the best bourbon that he bought to save for a special occasion. When he found it, a small, nostalgic smile came across his face as he grabbed one of the crystal glasses and shut the cabinet. He walked back over to the parlor, opening the bottle of bourbon and pouring it into the glass for his discretion. The liquid burned down his throat, reminding him of the simple pleasures of life—alcohol. He set the bottle of bourbon down and reached up to pull his sleeve back and observe the growing wolf bite posioning his bloodstream.
Still with the bourbon glass in his hand, Damon walked over to the drapes darkening the Salvatore parlor, and without further adieu, he drew them back so light shined into the room and lit the centuries-old furniture. The light streamed in his face and he soaked it in, letting his mind really feel the contact the sun made with his skin. After another small smile, Damon knocked back the rest of the bourbon in his cup to refresh the taste, walked back to where he'd set down the bourbon bottle and let the glass join it, and then stepped to the side to observe the light shining right at him. A part of him wished the bite wasn't real, but it was. And since there was no way of getting rid of his inevitable death, it didn't really matter, did it? Whether he died then or in two hours or in another day, he was still going to die.
And to Damon, being in charge of how he kicked the bucket was the most important thing to him. He sure as hell wasn't going to hallucinate his time as a human and go certifiable before dying a slow and painful death. No, he wanted to go down with dignity, so he moved his fingers over his daylight ring and peeled it off his swollen finger. Damon twirled the metal in his hand, knowing that the second he let his family crest drop to the floor, it was over. It remained on his fingertips for a moment or two, but then he let it fall to the ground, immediately feeling the effects of the sun on his face. His skin burned, sizzling and turning red with passing seconds. He fought back the urge to groan from the excruciating pain and let his hands drift out as he welcomed death. Seconds passed, and his skin bubbled with burns from the toxic light.
Why the hell is it taking so lo—?
All of a sudden, Damon was tackled to the ground in the shadows, immediately healing his skin. Stefan was hovering above him, gripping his brother by the collar of his shirt.
"Get off of me!" Damon growled, but he didn't have the strength to enforce his request. Stefan flashed them over to the wall between the parlor and the foyer, raising Damon above him and slamming him against the wall with brute force.
"You're not doing this!" Stefan snapped. Damon rolled his eyes.
"Just did." Again, Stefan flashed, this time closer to the wall by the basement entrance in the hallway. Damon tried to keep his brother at arm's length, but again, he was too weak to do something about his brother's strength. Instead, he tried to reason, "You know what happened to Rose, Stefan."
"I don't care," Stefan spat before moving again, this time into the basement cell before pulling the door shut, sealing Damon inside. Damon groaned from the pain of being manhandled, but Stefan shook his head and looked through the bars on the door with a serious expression. "You're not dying today."
Stefan pulled the lever on the door, locking Damon inside of it so he didn't go ravenous. Damon turned on his side to stare up at Stefan. "What's the plan, Superman?"
"I'm gonna find a way out of this."
"Oh, right. A miracle cure. Good luck with that one."
"I've got Bonnie looking for something. Anything."
"Always the hero, Stefan. Just tell me goodbye and get it over with..." His sarcastic, slightly rude comment would've been more effective had he not started to cough at the end, turning over to his side as he felt liquid escape his mouth. Blood. It splattered all over his hand and onto the cellar floor, indicating that Damon's bite was starting to get to the dramatics. Stefan swallowed.
"Lie still. Conserve your strength."
With that said, Stefan left to find a way to prevent his brother from his certain death.
"I don't want to watch an irrelevant, idiotic movie about the inaccurate portrayal of the Civil War," Claire complained as Caroline and Amelia practically were dragging her through the town square. While Caroline and Amelia looked like normal people with smiles and happy bright colors clouding them, Claire had black sunglasses over her eyes, black jeans, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket, though it was hot as hell outside. She looked like the harbinger of death—and that was an understatement. Before they'd even stepped foot out of the King home, Caroline had to fight her to run a brush through her hair.
Caroline gasped, offended. "Are you kidding me? Scarlett O'Hara is my inspiration, Claire!"
Claire tilted her head down to look at Caroline over her sunglasses with an endless amount of judgment. "It's about time you get a new inspiration, Caroline."
She frowned. "Just because you're Judy Moody does not give you the right to spoil my favorite movie!"
"Caroline," Amelia warned her, shaking her head and giving the young blonde vampire a pointed look. Caroline sighed and let Amelia speak to Claire, who was literally dragging her feet trying to stop them from participating in Mystic Falls's movie event, featuring Gone With the Wind. "Claire...come on. You need to get out of the house. Elena and Jeremy are here, too."
Claire's expression remained blank. "So because Elena and Jeremy decide they want to move on with their lives, it means that I have to?"
"Look, you—take these stupid things off!" Amelia stopped them in the middle of the field and ripped her sister's sunglasses off her face. Claire opened her mouth to protest as Amelia shoved them to Caroline, but she didn't get a chance to once Amelia started her lecture. "You loved him...I know that. We all know that. He was your husband, how could you not love him? I know that you're hurting but...we're all hurting, okay? So for three hours, we are going to sit with Elena and Jeremy and we are going to pretend like no one died and that there isn't a box of your dead husband's things in your room waiting to be sifted through. For three hours, we are going to have a life again, got it? This is the first step!"
Claire scowled. "Amelia, it's been two days. You expect me to have a life again after two days?"
Caroline sighed and interrupted, shifting the picnic baskets on her arms before she complained, "It's not about how fast you recover, Claire. All that matters is that you do. He sacrificed himself so you could live, not sit around in the house all day and kick yourself for being alive." She gave a small smile. "He wanted you to start over."
Amelia and Caroline watched as Claire looked around at all the humans in the park before sighing. "Fine. Fine, we can sit and watch the movie. For three hours, we can have a life, but after that..." She reached over and snatched the sunglasses from Caroline's head and fit them on her face. "After that, I'm going to my room and I will kick myself all I want."
"That's all we're asking," Caroline agreed as Claire shoved past them and walked over to where Elena and Jeremy were sitting. Amelia looked over at Caroline and crossed her arms, where the young, peppy blonde shrugged. "What? It's what we're asking for, right?"
Amelia rolled her eyes and took a deep breath before following in Claire's footsteps, Caroline following close behind her. Claire came up beside Jeremy and took her sunglasses off, looking around at the stupidity of Mystic Falls. Too many imposters were standing around in fake Party City 1800s gowns, not even comparing to the real thing that she had to wear until it became outdated.
"Hey! There you guys are!" Caroline shouted as she and Amelia came up to the two Gilbert siblings. Caroline gave them both a wide smile and set down two picnic baskets. "Who's hungry?!"
"Are we really doing this?" Jeremy groaned. Claire scoffed.
"Apparently, we are really doing this."
"We are going to take a page from Scarlett!" Caroline declared, interrupting their side conversation. Claire shot Caroline an unimpressed look, but the blonde barreled on, "We made it through the war! I know you guys went through hell and...my mom knows I'm a vampire...so basically, it's like Atlanta has burned. And yet, in spite of everything, we persevere!"
Claire and Jeremy stared down at the over-cheery Caroline, merely blinking at her. Claire shrugged in disbelief and muttered, "I may take credit for being her sire, but I do not take credit for her peppiness. This is what happens when you turn a cheerleader into a vampire."
Jeremy chuckled, but followed in Claire's movements as she lowered herself onto the picnic blanket and reached forward to grab a sandwich Caroline had provided to them. The sun beamed down at them in the middle of the square and the five friends sat around, attempting to create some level of normalcy in the wake of all the chaos.
Around a half an hour later, they were still sitting around under the sun, as Claire had realized that Caroline and Amelia tricked her into coming an hour earlier than when they started the film. While they were all chatting amongst themselves, noticing all the period dressers around them, Claire looked up to spot Stefan approaching the picnic blanket as well. She rolled her eyes and scoffed at him as he came closer.
"I shouldn't even have been surprised. You were never one to resist an 'epic' romance."
Stefan gave her a small smile but bent down to look at her. "Uh, Claire, will you come take a walk with me?"
With knotted eyebrows, she amended, "I'm having a strange feeling that I should make it clear that I am not your epic romance."
"Please," he urged, looking at her with serious eyes for such a light-hearted situation that Caroline and Amelia were trying to get her to partake in. Caroline, Elena, Amelia, and Jeremy all looked at Stefan with confusion, but finally, Claire agreed to his request and got up to go with him for a walk. They moved away from the crowd and over to a deserted area of the town square, where Claire sighed.
"You know, I'm supposed to be having a life for three hours. Your doom and gloom is making it hard for me to have a life."
"I know. I wish this could wait...but it can't." He turned to her as they came to a slow and Claire looked into his eyes, seeing the sadness behind them. She shook her head.
"Stef, you're making me nervous. I know that look. I hate that look."
He dropped his eyes from hers and nervously started, "Listen, um, the other night...when Damon and Caroline were helping you and Tyler escape...do you, uh, do you remember what happened?"
She shrugged, bewildered. "Yeah. I tried to talk him down, but he was transforming too fast. He couldn't stop it and he...lunged at me but Damon stopped him. Stefan, what's going on?"
"Damon was bitten, Claire," Stefan finished after a brief moment of hesitation. And once the words were out of his mouth and he could see the look on his best friend's face, he knew there was no turning back. She blinked at him, incredulous.
"No..." Stefan didn't respond to her, and she shifted as she realized what was happening. "No! No, that means he's...he's..."
"Yeah..."
"Oh, my God, he..." Claire shut her eyes as she felt a sickness rock her stomach and she tried not to cry again. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not only did she lose Christopher, but Damon too? Did the world hate her? Did she do something to some higher power that made him or her want to punish Claire for the rest of eternity? How could this happen? "He came to the house this morning and...and I told him I needed time and I...I don't..."
"He told me not to tell you," Stefan confessed as Claire held a hand to her mouth and tried to contain her emotions, "but I figured, with everything that you two have been through, if you want to talk to him, I wouldn't wait." She nodded carefully, but Stefan could see the sadness begin to build up in her own eyes. Therefore, he reached down and placed both hands on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes and said sternly, "Hey, it's not over. There might be a cure, but I have to find Klaus to get it."
"Klaus?" Claire repeated, confused. "Why?"
"I asked Bonnie for help from the witches and even though they refused to tell me anything, she heard a name. That name was Klaus."
"Okay." Claire nodded slowly multiple times. "Okay. I'm coming with you, let's go—"
Stefan widened his eyes. "Are you insane? No! Klaus thinks your dead."
"I am not going to sit around and let Damon die! I'm not doing it!" she snapped at him, causing Stefan to flinch from her demeanor. Claire shook her head at him desperately. "I lost Christopher! I lost him because he was selfless enough to die in my place. I will not twiddle my thumbs if there's a chance that I could be doing something that would save Damon's life!"
"You have to let me do this alone, Claire, you have to," Stefan begged, but she wasn't retaining any of his pleas. "If Klaus knows you're alive, he'll kill you. Then Christopher would have died for nothing and so would you."
"I don't care," she spat.
"Well I do!"
"What the hell is going on?" a third party demanded, and Stefan and Claire looked beside them to see Amelia as she jogged up to the two of them, concern filled in her eyes. She looked at Stefan for answers as Claire slowly began to back away, deciding to take things into her own hands. But Stefan knew what she was doing before she even thought of it, and his hand came down on her arm and he gripped it so hard she didn't dare to go anywhere. It was then she regretting weening him on human blood so that he actually happened to stand a chance against her.
"Don't let her out of your sight," he ordered Amelia, shoving Claire to her. Amelia nodded as she took the unhappy, growling Claire, but she looked back at Stefan with a confused look.
"Okay, fine but...what's happening?"
Stefan looked at Claire. "She can tell you. I've got to go."
"Stefan—" She moved towards him to try to get him to tell her what was going on, but he was gone too quickly. She watched him walk away, but she couldn't go too far as she maintained a grip on Claire's arm to honor Stefan's request to keep her in close sight. Amelia turned and looked to Claire for answers this time.
"Well?" Amelia prompted.
Claire looked off at Stefan in the distance and whispered, "Damon's going to die."
Damon sat on the floor of the Salvatore cellar, his breath slow but air barely making it all the way to his lungs. He could feel his skin start to heat up, and he had already had about three coughing fits. Unlike when Rose was sick, he didn't have Nurse Elena taking care of him. No one was taking care of him; he was alone with his thoughts in a dark prison, awaiting his final breath.
And that wasn't even the worst of it.
The dark prison transformed, and that's when he knew he was in trouble.
He didn't realize it this quickly, of course, because the sight before him was one from his memories. He was turning a corner into the parlor of the old King estate, staring at the back of a twenty-year-old Clarissa King who was staring at the fireplace. Damon debated for a moment, deciding whether or not to go inside, but his judgment took the best of him. He walked into the parlor and stood slightly behind her, knowing that she took notice in his presence.
"What do you want?" she hiccuped, turning her cheek and wiping something off her face. Damon took a step closer.
"Are you angry with me?"
Clarissa scoffed and turned around at him. He could see a redness to her eyes, but didn't mention it. "Angry with you? What on Earth could I possibly be angry with you about, Damon? Perhaps the fact that you go off to the war tomorrow? No, there is nothing to be angry with you about!"
Damon locked his jaw. "I didn't think it mattered so much to you."
Her eyes widened, and he realized that he'd hit a nerve. Truth be told, he didn't know why she was so angry. She lost the right to feel that way when she kicked him out of her bedroom after telling him that she didn't want to be his wife. She lost that right when she stormed into his house and broke his father's drinking glass. Why was she acting the way she was, he didn't know, and it bothered him. He didn't join the war to provoke her, but yes, maybe not telling her intentionally until the last minute was strategy on his part. Nevertheless, he couldn't have expected what happened next. In a flash of blind rage, she reached out and took the poker by the fireplace and aimed it at his head. It was impressively good aim; however, he ducked before it struck him. When Damon returned to a standing position to face her, his eyes went huge.
"You thought correctly!" she determined, giving him a small shrug. "Are you satisfied with your dishonesty? Haven't you punished me enough? Here's a thought for you: perhaps you should go out into the war and get killed? That ought to teach me a lesson!"
Damon growled, "You witch! You blame me for dishonesty when you were the one being dishonest with me for twenty years of your life! If you didn't want to be with me, you should have made that clear from the beginning! You have no right in what I do with my life anymore!"
"Fine!" she shouted at him, turning away. "Then leave! You have no right to be in my home!"
"Fine!" he shouted back before storming out, taking off down the right corridor. But suddenly, there was an echoing sound in the distance—crying. Weeping, maybe. He slowed down, and it felt like time was stopping. Damon looked around with sluggish eyes as his consciousness drifted from his memory and the real world. But before he left the sour memory, he heard another echo.
"Damon."
Damon turned to face a modernized Claire standing right in front of him, looking with eyes full of pity. He raised his eyebrows.
"Claire?"
"Don't you see?" she continued, as she drew closer. He blinked a few times to make sure it was really her, but all he could see was her coming near him and the sounds in his ears, the crying, was getting more prevalent. "I didn't want you to leave. I was heartbroken. I wanted you to stay with me."
"What?"
Suddenly, Damon whipped to the other side of him, where he was back in the King's parlor watching as Clarissa, with tears down her face, shouted, "Haven't you punished me enough?!"
"I...I..." Damon stuttered as Claire touched his arm behind him. He jerked back in surprise, but she just shook her head.
"I wanted you to stay with me."
And just like that, he was forced out of the warped memory, as clueless as when he was put in. He reached down in confusion and pulled back his sleeve, realizing that the bite had spread all the way down his arm, bringing him closer to the final stages before his death. With a groan, he leaned back against the boulder in the cell as he heard shuffling at the door and a human heartbeat on the other side. He didn't bother looking in the direction of all the noise.
"Well that looks bad," said Alaric as he looked through the bars on the cellar door at the helpless Damon, who just groaned again.
"It feels worse." Alaric set down a crystal glass on the ledge of the barred door as Damon barreled on, "My memories are haunting me, Ric." He turned to the door. "Please tell me you have something for that."
Alaric waved the bourbon bottle in his unseen hand. "Double shot."
"That's good," Damon choked out as he lifted himself from the ground with a heave and stumbled over to the door. "Oh good," he muttered as he saw his Salvatore signet ring accompanying the glass, and before taking the alcohol, he slid the daylight ring back onto his finger. "So my brother sent you for suicide watch?"
"He's just trying to help."
"He's doing what he always does," he corrected bitterly as he turned around, "trying to right the wrongs of the past...ahh!" Alaric turned away as Damon doubled over inside of his cell, coughing up blood again for what seemed like the umpteenth time since his brother had locked him in the dungeon. When he recovered, Damon spat out, "You should want me dead. I'm the reason Jenna got killed."
Alaric shook his head and took a drink. "I don't blame you for Jenna. I blame John for Jenna."
Damon scoffed. "Well, if I hadn't ruined his first two sacrifices in the first place, Klaus would've never went looking for another one; he would've never turned Jenna and John would never have killed her. So sure you do. Oh, and let's not forget I turned your wife into a vampire. You must really hate me for that one!"
"Okay, give me your glass. Neither one of us is drunk enough for this conversation."
Still weak, Damon swung his arm off of the boulder and brought the crystal glass up to his lips to finish the burning liquor in the cup. He walked over to the door and braced to put the glass on the opening, but instead, he had a better idea. His hand clenched around Alaric's throat as tight as possible for a vampire in his state.
Alaric choked as Damon begged, "Kill me. Please."
"Screw...you!"
Fighting the urges to give over to the lack of air, Alaric raised his unseen hand and injected a vervain dart right into Damon's arm. Damon grunted as he felt the vervain take over his system, weakening the already sick vampire. He dropped to the ground involuntarily, coughing up a storm. But in the middle of his coughs, Alaric heard him mutter, "Claire?"
"Claire's not here, Damon." It was the last thing Damon heard before his vision went spotty and a white light appeared, transforming the dark cell into, yet again, another memory.
"Mr. Salvatore?"
Damon heard his name close behind him as he stood around in his room, staring at the regulated bags he was allowed to pack for service. He would have to carry them himself, of course, when the time came for him to deploy when the sun rose. He turned around to face one of the maids of the Salvatore household, hesitant upon entering his room. Damon nodded to her.
"Come in, Valentine. Are you here to say goodbye?"
"No, Sir. I have been asked to deliver a message." Damon cocked an eyebrow as Valentine shifted uncomfortably. "Miss, uh, Clarissa King has requested your presence in her family's guest house immediately."
Damon froze, and he completely understod then why Valentine was acting so strangely. Everyone in Mystic Falls knew that Clarissa and Damon were not on speaking terms to say the least, so it was odd that she was requesting his presence. Damon didn't really know how to respond to what she was telling him, so after a long moment or two, he gave a small, unsure nod and turned back to his things, still confounded.
"T-Thank you, Valentine. You're dismissed."
"Sir?" Damon turned around to see Valentine, who smiled lightly at him. "Goodbye."
He gave her a small smile. "I'll be back before you know it."
She blushed, a typical reaction to his charm, and fled the room upon his dismissal. Damon turned back to his things and looked over them, carefully making sure that he had everything he needed in order. He had no doubt he would be back later on in the night, probably after Clarissa had made some huge fool of him and most likely kicked him around a few times for being so blunt earlier, but he knew he had to go. He couldn't refuse her request, no matter how much he wanted to. And besides, his packing was all done. All that was left was for him to get a good night's rest and move on towards the next adventure.
So reluctantly, he left his family's home and in the dark corners of the night, passed the property of the King residence and walked out back to the guest house that rested by the lake. There was a lantern above the door, the light guiding him to his destination. Damon took out a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for whatever fight was about to come before he pushed open the door and walked inside.
He didn't really know what to expect. A lash somewhere that she would use to beat him with? No, of course not. If he were being truthful, he really didn't know what to expect out of the entire situation in general, but that didn't stop him from being completely shocked when he saw multiple candles around the room, giving him a very dim light to see Clarissa shaking out a match, dressed in nothing but her nightgown. Damon swallowed, confused, and watched as her eyes met his. He could see a hint of water in them, glassing over her entire eye and making it clear that there was something wrong. Damon opened his mouth when she neared closer to him, but she shook her head.
"Please don't speak," she begged, and in the dim light he could've sworn he saw a tear fall down her face. "This will all just...be easier if we don't speak."
"Clarissa..." he started, but she cut him off by balancing on her toes, pressing her lips to his to silence him. He didn't object, though he was confused out of his mind. But it was Clarissa—how could he say no to her with what she was doing? She kissed him softly, as if she were saying goodbye, and that's what he realized this was. A goodbye. Her own goodbye. Perhaps his enlistment would affect her more than he thought it would, after all.
So he didn't care what happened next. He let her kiss him and even kissed her back, taking what she was offering. His shirt ended up on the floor and her nightdress ended up with it as he carried them both to the small makeshift bed in the quiet, reserved King guesthouse. And for one night, he was able to love her as he always wanted.
So when the sun came above the horizon and dawned on the next day, Damon and Claire walked hand-in-hand out of the guesthouse, having gotten no sleep whatsoever. They were both silent, the only sound was of her hands rubbing together awkwardly. Suddenly, Damon spun around, cutting her path off so that she bumped right into him. Immediately, she stopped short and looked up, waiting for him to speak. Damon looked at her with confusion.
"What was this, Clarissa?" he asked, his eyes roaming her features. "Was it only a goodbye?"
She hesitated, and he could see the look of distress on her face. He watched carefully as she stammered, "I-It doesn't have to only be a good—"
It was all he needed. He leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly, cutting her sentence off at what seemed like the end. She tensed for a moment but relaxed and let her lips melt into his before he broke away, his forehead leaning against hers when he breathed out, "Wait for me."
"Wait for you?" she repeated, breathless. He nodded against her, his hand on the back of her neck, securing her to him. He kissed her again, and this time, when he pulled away, she whispered, "All right. All right, I'll wait for you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Damon smiled, as did Claire, and then he let her go, walking backwards and away back to his own home, all the while keeping his eyes on her. And then, to the left of where Clarissa was standing, Claire came out and crossed her arms at him.
"If you turn around, you'll never get me back," she warned. Damon understood what she meant, but he didn't think. All that he could do was let his feet guide him to turn the opposite direction, where the figures behind him vanished into thin air.
The lock on the door broke him out of his memory. People—humans—were standing at the door. They were uninvited guests unwelcome in his home. Damon realized in a split second that they had unlocked the door and someone was coming inside, so the second whoever the human was entered the threshold, he was out of his weak position on the floor and up at the side of the door, ready to strike. Liz Forbes was standing perpendicular to him, holding a gun full of wooden bullets in her hand waiting to strike. He scowled.
"Liz."
The Sheriff gasped and turned her gun to aim for him, but Damon grabbed her arm and forced it around so that she went flying right for the brick wall behind him, knocking her out cold—long enough for him to make an unsolicited escape from the Salvatore dungeon without any interruptions whatsoever.
Claire tapped her fingers on her thigh rapidly and almost angrily, causing her sister to reach over to her and squeeze her knee so tightly, Claire was forced to cease her incessant tapping long enough to pry Amelia's fingers off of her limb. Caroline was equally as impatient, suddenly whipping around to Jeremy and their new guest Bonnie, hissing, "All this waiting around is ruining Scarlett for me!"
"I hate this movie," Claire muttered under her breath as she heard Amelia's phone ring beside her. The blonde answered it promptly, feeling ashamed that it was on ringer in the middle of a movie. She could see those around her glare at her with judgements, but she tried to maintain as quiet as she could.
"Hey, Ric."
"Tell me you're with Claire."
Amelia looked at Claire, who was no doubt trying to listen in on their conversation as they spoke. So slowly, Amelia lifted herself from the picnic blanket and walked off to the side, whispering, "Yeah...uh, she's right here. What's wrong?"
"No, just get her somewhere safe. Damon escaped...I think he's looking for her and the cops are after him. Listen, he's in bad shape, Amelia. Just get everyone to safety and I'll be there as soon as I can. I'm on my way."
Alaric ended the phone call as Amelia turned around and witnessed as only 4 of her friends sat on the picnic blanket. Her eyes widened as Caroline and Elena both looked around to find what was wrong, and then realized what it was.
"Damn it," Amelia whispered as she noticed Claire's absence among them. Bonnie, Caroline, Elena, and Jeremy all stood up to crowd around her.
"What's going on?" Elena asked.
"It's Damon, isn't it?" Caroline added, obviously having eavesdropped on the conversation as well. Amelia sighed at them.
"Yeah, it's Damon. He's...sick and Sheriff Forbes is after him. Stefan told me not to let Claire out of my sight but—"
"Sick how?" Bonnie urged. Amelia stared at them all with a pitiful look.
"Werewolf bite," she said under her breath, causing everyone to come to a slow and painful stop as they realized what was going on. Sure, Damon wasn't the most likable guy, but no one actually wanted him to die—especially not by a werewolf bite. Elena shook her head.
"Why didn't Stefan want Claire to see him?"
Amelia shrugged, unaware, but then Bonnie swallowed thickly and put the pieces together. "He told her that he was going to see Klaus to get the cure, but she wanted to go with him, didn't she? Klaus thinks she's dead, there's no way he would've let her."
The older blonde blinked, alarmed. "You're telling me that my sister is going to see Klaus?"
"We've got to find her," Elena pressed, ignoring everyone else's comments as she turned around and sprinted in the other direction. Caroline and Amelia called out her name to get her back, but there were several shushes from the crowd around them. The vampires ignored it as Caroline looked at the rest of her friends and shook her head.
"Don't worry, I've got it," she said before taking off in Elena's footsteps. Amelia sighed.
"God, this is just one big mess."
"Bonnie, let go," Jeremy demanded, and Amelia looked to her side to suddenly find Jeremy and Bonnie in the midst of a tiff. The young witch frowned at him.
"If Damon is off the rails, there's nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it."
"You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what? Jenna still died. Now I'm going to find my sister and you go head and you try to stop me."
He jerked his arm out of her grasp and walked off angrily, leaving Bonnie and Amelia the only ones left to join the search team.
Damon stumbled through the town square, moaning and groaning from the pain he felt buried in his stomach, bumping into people he thought he recognized from his human age. He wasn't sure whether or not he was living in reality or his memory—however, the fact that he was stumbling in the middle of town square's 1800s movie event didn't help much. He coughed and came to a slow in front of the commemorating statue that was in the center of Mystic Square, only to look up and find a period-looking Clarissa King standing in the dress she wore when he returned from the war.
"Clarissa?" he whispered, bewildered, but when she opened her mouth to say something, a large, male voice replaced her presence.
"Damon!" Clarissa faded and Jeremy walked right in front of the sick, sweating vampire, waiting for him to respond. Damon just sighed and looked at the young teenager with wild eyes.
"Where's Claire? I need to see Claire now."
Jeremy, seeing his disoriented presence, stammered, "H-Hey, let's get you out of here first, all right?"
And though Damon didn't want to go with him, he had no choice. He faltered over, enlisting Jeremy to catch him and help him walk as he coughed his way to the Grill.
Meanwhile, Claire shoved her way through the crowd of period-dressers immediately, determined to get to Amelia's car, which was parked at the Grill. She didn't know what she'd do when she got to it, but she figured hot-wiring couldn't be that hard. She had to get to Alaric's apartment—to find Stefan and Klaus before it was too late. She had to get Damon the cure; she wouldn't lose him.
But just as Claire stormed up to her sister's white SUV, she watched as Sheriff Forbes, with her weapon most likely packed with wooden bullets, entered the Grill and told her deputies to secure the perimeter of the square. In panic, Claire stuck herself to the side of Amelia's vehicle and squatted on the ground, hopeful that the Sheriff wouldn't see her. Caroline had told her that the Sheriff knew Caroline was a vampire, and maybe that meant she knew about Claire and Damon as well if what Alaric had said to Amelia was true. Regardless, she didn't want to take her chances. I already died once this week, she thought bitterly.
"Yes, Ma'am," she heard one of the deputies agree and start towards her direction. She could hear the footsteps of the cop nearing towards her, but she hoped he didn't see her in his sight and kept moving. But of course, the second he walked around Amelia's SUV, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Claire's presence and widened his eyes. However, the poor human was too slow for her, and Claire managed to snatch his gun from him and place a hand over his mouth before he screamed, dragging him with her at the side of the car. He kicked and tried to scream, but she hushed him and kept a firm grip on his mouth so he couldn't breath. A few minutes went by and finally, the deputy stopped kicking and she realized he was unconscious—long enough for her to be safe without worrying. She left the deputy lying on the ground and slid up the side of the vehicle to the driver door of Amelia's car, only to find it locked.
"Damn my responsible sister," Claire hissed before slumping back down against the side of the vehicle, ignoring the deputy's unconscious body. It was then, as she felt defeated, that she heard a single gunshot come within the Grill. The sound of the movie playing in the square masked it, but for a vampire, it was unmistakeable. As her panic started to increase, she felt a rush of air, and only a few yards in front of her, she spotted a black figure walking through the grass—stumbling, coughing, the whole nine yards. Damon, she realized and lifted herself from the ground to follow him. She took off in a sprint after he fled, most likely to find safe haven to protect himself against Sheriff Forbes. She lost him when he disappeared behind the projector screen, the sound of the audio from Gone With the Wind blasting in her already sensitive ears. She looked around, bewildered, knowing that his trail stopped at the exact spot she was standing in.
"Claire."
Claire whipped around to find Damon standing behind her, a pitiful sight to look at. His eyes were branded with a ring of red, his skin was covered in pale, cold sweat, and he looked as disoriented as she thought he would. Claire let out a breath of relief, but as words came out of her mouth, all Damon could see was the past.
"Damon," she answered the door icily, staring at him with obvious discomfort. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" Damon repeated, incredulous. He was angry beyond a second thought. "You promised, Clarissa. You promised me."
Claire stared at Damon in front of her, listening to him say words that she didn't understand. She shook her head. "Damon—"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Clarissa stated briskly. Damon stepped closer to her at the threshold of the King entrance.
"You promised me you'd wait. And then you accept a proposal from...from Christopher Fell?"
He watched her hesitate, notice the burning anger in his eyes, and at last, she told the truth. "Damon, you've been away for two years. We—I thought you were dead. By the time your brother informed me that you were returning home on leave, my parents had already accepted my engagement to Christopher—"
"Then break the engagement, Clarissa. Break it," he begged. She stared at him, confused.
"Why does it matter to you? Miss Pierce keeps you company enough, I've heard—"
"This isn't about Katherine!" Damon shouted at her, tears in his eyes. Clarissa flinched, and he realized that he'd scared her. He took a step back and just hissed, "Tell me why. Just tell me why you didn't wait, Clarissa."
Damon stared at Claire, as if waiting for an answer from her lips. Claire watched him and tried not to break down for what felt like the millionth time in the last few days. He was going to die, she realized, and she didn't want to accept it. She had to get him out of there before she could find Klaus and get the cure. But by the time she did that, it would be too late.
And she knew what he was talking about. She knew what he was asking. He was asking the question that he'd never gotten an answer for. One that she refused to give him because it was her deepest, darkest secret that she hadn't shared with anyone—not even Stefan.
"Damon..." she whispered, the word hurting her throat to speak.
"I'm sorry, Damon," he heard as Clarissa backed away from the threshold and attempted to close the door on him. But before she could, Damon stopped the door from closing and gripped her arms tightly.
As Claire moved forward to help Damon away, he suddenly had them pinned against one of the decorative lamp-posts. Claire knew she could shove him off, but he looked so pitiful, it was heartbreaking. What he whispered was even worse.
"I thought you loved me."
"I thought you loved me," Damon said to her quietly. Clarissa turned her cheek from him, fighting back the tears in her eyes.
"You thought wrong."
"I know." Claire swallowed as she looked into his eyes and nodded. "I know you thought I loved you. I know that. But now's not the time, Damon. Please. I have to get you home."
She slightly pushed him away, but it didn't take much strength on her part. In his mind, Clarissa shoved him off and closed the door on his face, snapping him back out to reality. When Damon was finally back with the real Claire, he looked into her crystal-clear eyes and shook his head.
"I don't understand."
"I know."
"I should've stayed with you." Suddenly, he dropped to the ground on his knees, his head buried in her stomach. Claire leaned against the lamp post with her head tilted back as a tear drifted down her face. She could still hear him as he whispered quietly, "But why didn't you wait for me? Why didn't you...wait for me?"
"Oh, Damon..." she reached down to hold him at arm's length as she sank down to his level and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, allowing him to bury his head in her shoulder. She held onto him tightly, realizing the very possibility that he might very well die. If there was a time for the secret to come out, it was then—right in that moment. So, as she held back the tears that threatened at her eyes, she choked out, "I didn't wait for you because...because I lost our child. And it was too hard to even...to even think about you, let alone wait for you."
Damon's eyes widened as he heard what escaped her mouth and hoped that it was some form of a hallucination. But when he pulled away from her embrace and she let him, he observed her face after her confession and knew it was nothing but the truth. His words failed him.
"You were..." he trailed off, and she nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, they were interrupted.
"Claire!" shouted Elena as she and Amelia came rushing up to Claire's side. Damon didn't take his eyes off of the blonde in front of him, but she tore her gaze from his to look up at her sister and the human brunette. Elena looked over at Damon. "Oh, God...is he...?"
Claire wiped her eyes and lifted Damon from the ground, handing him over to Elena. "Here. You both need to take him. I've got to find a way to stop this."
"Claire, you can't!" Amelia protested, shaking her head. "If Klaus finds out—"
"Amelia, don't do this to me!" Claire snapped, causing her sister to come to a complete stop. Amelia could see the look of dead seriousness in Claire's eyes, and she knew that if she didn't hand her sister the keys to her car, she would just find an alternative. There was no other way around it. "He. Cannot. Die. Today."
The younger sibling just sighed and realized that there was nothing more she could do. She reached into her pocket and produced the keys to her car, and Claire took them quickly. She turned around to leave, but before she did, she heard Damon call for her, weakly. He stumbled out of Elena's grasp and walked over to her, falling into her arms. Claire held onto him tightly, keeping him upright, as he whispered to her.
"I love you. You should know that...i-in case—"
She reached forward and pressed her lips to his softly, cutting him off mid-sentence. It was a soft kiss; their last one. She pulled away and leaned against his forehead for a moment, sniffing before returning quietly, "I know."
Claire forced herself away from Damon and looked over his shoulder at her sister and Elena, who both stepped forward ready to catch Damon as Claire flashed away from their sight.
When Claire reached Alaric's apartment, she feared it was too late. There was a ticking clock above her head with a time that she couldn't see. Damon didn't have more than a few hours left and Klaus...well, if Klaus had any sense at all, he'd be halfway around the world. But then again, Klaus was an all-powerful vampire/werewolf since Elijah backed out on their deal, which made it so that he didn't have to have any sense. No one could kill him, no one could stand against him.
Nevertheless, she was relieved when she found the door of Alaric's apartment and pushed it open. But the sight before her was so unexpected, it rocked her stomach full of horror, which was hard to do. Klaus turned around to watch as Claire pushed open the door to the apartment and stepped inside, her face falling at the sight of multiple drained blood bags trailing a line all the way to Stefan's lips, which were coated in rich, human blood. She watched as he realized it was her who entered and set down the half-empty blood bag that he was ravenously devouring.
"No..." Stefan whispered as he realized what she had done. Klaus looked back at her, cocking an eyebrow.
"Well, well. Look who rose from the ashes." He turned at her and watched as she tore her eyes from the gruesome sight and focused her stern gaze on him. "You must have realized what a foolish decision you've made revealing yourself to me, haven't you?"
"Cut the bullshit, Klaus." He dropped his small smile and watched her as she inched towards him. "You want to kill me? Go ahead. But we both know you won't."
He scoffed. "And why's that?"
She looked back at Stefan, who was on the floor writhing as he itched for the blood bag in front of him. What has Klaus done? she whispered in her head, but didn't say anything aloud.
Instead, she turned back to Klaus and quoted, "'Trust me when I say this...you will be okay'? Ring a bell?" Klaus dropped his gaze to the floor and smiled wider as she looked at him with sickened eyes. "The spell that Christopher used to bring me back...he got it from you, didn't he?"
Klaus shrugged. "Technically, he got it from a witch friend of mine in Berlin, but that's besides the point."
"Why?"
"It'd be a shame to see such a powerful vampire go to waste, love." He stepped closer and cocked his head. "You see, you had the right idea trying to escape during the ritual. In fact, I was quite impressed with your strength. However...if you let me teach you...oh, Clarissa, think of the possibilities."
"I don't have to think of them." She crossed her arms. "I'm here to make you a deal. Stefan says you know how to save Damon."
Klaus rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, we've been through this before. To save us all a bit of time, I'll just tell you. My blood is the cure, Clarissa. Stefan has already agreed to come with me in order to save his brother's life. However—"
"No!" Stefan shouted from behind him, sitting straighter on his knees from the blood-soaked floor. He growled, "This deal is between you and me, Klaus. Leave her out of it."
"I decide the terms of our agreement, Stefan," Klaus snapped as he looked back at Claire and shrugged. "What do you say, love? What would you do to save your precious Salvatore?"
"Let Stefan go and I'll do whatever you want."
"I'm afraid that isn't possible." Klaus turned from her and walked over to the counter in Alaric's kitchen, grabbing a small red bottle of what she could only assume contained his blood. He waved it for her to see. "You want this to be sent to Stefan's brother? Join me. Let me teach you what I have to offer. Or...well, by the time you get back to the Salvatore boarding house, he'll be dead and you'll only have yourself to blame. Clock's ticking."
"Claire," Stefan begged from the floor. She looked over at him to see his weary eyes, telling her not to take the deal. Hero Stefan couldn't take seeing Claire being put in the middle of all of it, but she was already in it. If she left, Klaus would never give Damon the blood. The only option was staring her right in the face, and no matter what Stefan pleaded, she knew there was only one way.
"Fine." She nodded hesitantly. Klaus smiled and reached beside him to pour a glass of blood before he extended it to her.
"Drink on it, then."
Claire didn't have a problem with blood, but that didn't mean she didn't like to drink it. Over the years, she curved herself to a diet, to only drink off of blood bags as necessary. But Klaus? She could already tell the blood of the innocent would be on her hands and it sickened her, but it was the only way. She walked over, her chin tall, and grabbed the glass from his hand. She downed the blood in the cup without wasting a second and turned back to Klaus, who just grinned in approval. He turned to his other side to see Katherine who was sitting in the corner of the room, silent.
"Sweetheart," he started as he walked over to her with the red bottle of blood in his hand. He lifted Katherine from her seat with his hand wrapped around her throat and she lifted herself to meet his compulsory gaze. "Take this over to Damon and come right back."
"You want me to leave?"
"No!" Stefan and Claire shouted.
"Yes. And if I were you, I would—" she was gone before he could say the final word, "—hurry."
"You bastard!" Claire yelled as Katherine fled with the cure in her hands. Klaus sat down on the chair Katherine had been sitting in with a sadistic smile. "You knew! All this time, you knew!"
"She'll never take it to him," Stefan growled. Klaus shrugged at them as Stefan doubled over in defeat. "She'll never take it to him."
"This is even more pitiful than I thought," Damon murmured to Amelia as she sat by his side and dabbed a cold compress to his head. She tried to give him a smile.
"It's not...completely pitiful."
"There's still hope," added Elena, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, watching as Damon drifted away. She didn't want to see him die and hoped that Claire and Stefan had found a way to get the cure from Klaus. Damon sighed.
"I've made a lot of choices that have gotten me here. I deserve this. I deserve to die."
"Damon Salvatore!" Amelia scolded, lightly tapping him on the face. "What would make you think that? You absolutely do not deserve to die!"
"I do, Amelia. I deserve it. Some of the choices I made...could've been prevented." He swallowed, a look of pain crossing his face as he whispered, "If I had made better choices, I wouldn't be here right now. I'd be with her."
"With..." Elena trailed off, about to ask who he was talking about, but before she did, she realized quickly what he meant. Elena shifted, moving up the bed so that she was at Damon's side. "Damon, you can't blame yourself for history."
"But it's true," he whispered, closing his eyes. "If I'd fought harder, if I'd put her before my pride...if I stayed, she would've...we would've..." Amelia and Elena shared a glance as they could feel Damon slipping away from them, second after second. Damon finished quietly, "Our lives would've been simple."
"Maybe they would've." Elena smiled and she looked over at Amelia, who nodded as she understood what Elena wanted to do. She reached out and touched Damon's face, where realistic, perfect-world images flashed over his mind as Elena listed them for him. "You would've gotten married, had kids, laughed together, fought together...loved each other. You would've watched your kids grow and listen to your parents tell you what to do and what not to do. Then, when they were all grown up and out of the house and you and Claire were old and grey, you would've realized what a perfect life you had and how it all worked out the way it was supposed to be."
Damon watched as the situations crossed his mind, as he watched Claire's smile and her laughter burned into his memory. He watched them kiss, watched them fight, and watched her cry. He watched everything; he watched his perfect life.
"The way it was supposed to be," Damon replied, his voice barely audible. Amelia let her hand drift away from his face, stopping the sequence in his head so that she could wipe the tears away from her eyes. Slowly, they watched his eyes open and he whispered to them, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Elena said softly.
"Well, it's me you should be thanking." Elena and Amelia both looked up to find Katherine standing at the threshold of Damon's bedroom, cocking an eyebrow as she raised a bottle in her hand. "I mean, I'm the one who brought the cure." She sauntered forward as Elena slowly got up from the bed, eyeing Katherine with suspicious eyes. "I thought you were dead."
"I was," Elena returned.
"You got free," Damon noticed as Katherine pushed past Amelia and leaned towards Damon to put the cure to his lips.
"Yep. Finally."
"And you still came here?"
Her hand came up to cup his face as she nodded. "I owed you one."
"Where's my sister?" Amelia demanded as Katherine straightened to leave. "And...and Stefan? Where are they? Why'd he send you?"
"Slow down, there speed racer." Katherine rolled her eyes. "One question at a time."
"Where's Stefan?" Elena asked from behind Amelia, crossing her arms and anticipating the answer as soon as possible. Katherine looked behind the blonde and sighed at her doppelgänger.
"He's paying for this." She held up the bottle in her hand. "Stefan gave himself over to Klaus and Claire managed to get caught up in it. I wouldn't be expecting them anytime soon."
"Wait, what?" Damon lifted himself up from the bed, immediately feeling better. Katherine looked over at him—she should've guessed. "What are you talking about? Where is Claire?"
"I told you, Damon, don't be expecting her anytime soon." Katherine shrugged. "She gave up everything to save you...including you. How's that for your tragic love story, huh? And I didn't even have to be the one to drive her off."
With an arrogant smile, Katherine turned on her heel and started to walk out, but Amelia stepped forward. "Katherine—"
She spun around and tossed the bottle of Klaus's blood at her with a wider grin. "Good luck."
Damon's okay. Where R U?
Claire let out a relieved sigh and looked up at Stefan, who felt the same way as they both read the words on the screen of his cell phone. Before they could say anything, however, Klaus walked up to them in the middle of the abandoned warehouse they were starting their decade-long adventure.
"So?" he asked, causing them both to look up at him. "Did Katerina make it in time?"
"You won't be seeing her again, you know," Stefan advised.
"Because she's on vervain? I've been around a long time, Stefan, I rarely get played for a fool. Besides, she won't get far. You'll help me see to that." He smiled. Stefan stepped forward, leaving Claire to watch the situation that transpired between him and Klaus.
"What is it you really want from me?"
Klaus hesitated, slightly impressed with Stefan's deduction skills. "All will be explained in time. Once we leave this tragic little town."
"Then are we done here? Can we go?"
"Not quite. You see, I have a gift for you and Clarissa." He glanced at Clarissa, who stiffened, and then turned around with his arm extended out. "Come here, sweetheart. Don't be afraid." A teenage girl emerged from the shadows and was led right into Klaus's arm, where he swept the hair off her neck and looked at the two vampires before him. "See, I wanna make sure you two honor our deal. That you'll be of use to me." He barred his fangs and slowly bit the girl's neck, causing the teenager to scream aloud. Klaus tore his fangs away from the girl's neck after a moment, blood dripping down the side of his mouth and his eyes as horrid as a vampire's but glowing like a wolf's. "I could've compelled her to behave, but a real Ripper enjoys the hunt." He looked behind Stefan to Claire. "And a powerful vampire like yourself has no room for moral qualities."
The girl took off as Klaus let her go, and Stefan and Claire both realized what Klaus wanted them to do. In the blink of an eye, both Stefan and Claire were gone, causing Klaus to grin and slowly take off after them. The bitten teenager had stopped short when Stefan was standing in front of her, slowly watching her breathe. Claire stood behind the teenager, sick with disgust, but she realized there was nothing she could do about it. It was over. Klaus won.
Claire and Stefan shared a glance—only one glance—before the two of them flashed over and tore into the girl's neck, one vampire on each side, draining twice as fast. Her blood supply was out quicker than they would've liked, and Claire backed up when Stefan dropped the girl's corpse to the ground. Stefan lifted his head to Klaus and Claire looked over her shoulder, the hybrid observing his two vampires as they both relished in the blood on their faces. He nodded.
"Now we can go."
In honor of a long-standing tradition of me being sick and managing to get at least one chapter of a fanfic out, here's the Season 2 finale! If any of you read this story and my other ones and are wondering why I chose to update this story, it's because I want to be over with Season 2 so I can move along to Season 3 ASAP. I'm gonna try for some other stories today but I'm so tired I just don't know.
Anyways, thanks for reading! It's a season finale which means that there will probably be at least a week's break between 2x22 and 3x01 but I can tell you right now it'll probably be more than a week until my next update but we'll see how it goes.
Please review!
RHatch89: Thanks! :)
HPuni101: Thanks! Yeah Amelia's starting to annoy me so hopefully I can find some way to give her a real storyline so she's not just in the background for the next season. We'll see how it goes. Here's the update! Thanks for the review!
grapejuice101: I know it was pretty sad :( This chapter made me need a lot of tissues and not just because I'm sick lol. Here's the update!
HALEBTRASH: Thanks!
NicoleR85: Thank you! Here's the update.
SomebodyWhoCares: I know :( It was a sad chapter. Thanks for reviewing!
Tvd2014: I'm glad you liked it! Yeah John killing Jenna was pretty intense but it had to be done. Originally I was just gonna let Jenna decide not to become a vampire but John still needed to leave because no one wants him around and I figured well, he'd probably do that anyway so whatever. I mean, Christopher and Elena is a possibility but we'll see what happens down the road. He won't be in Season 3, I'll tell you that right now. The earliest he will be coming back is Season 4. Hope you enjoyed the flashbacks in this chapter! Thanks for the review!