A regular evening at the Mystic Grill. Regular. Mystic Grill. Regular evening.
Oh well. Don't worry, nobody dies.
For now.
Each a monster, part 16: The Falkenbachs and the cutlery
When Damon walked into the Mystic Grill, the day after the trip to the Smoky Mountains, Alaric was already drinking at the bar counter. The vampire joined him and asked for a bourbon, as usual.
"Hey. Fancy seeing you here."
The hunter gave him a doubtful look.
"You're short of pick-up lines or what?"
"Or what."
"I see... Small talk put aside, anything worthy of my interest?"
Damon shrugged. For now, Mystic Falls was quiet.
For now.
Ric took a sip of alcohol, and eyed two men wearing black suits who were precisely doing the same thing – that is, observing the customers. Intrigued, Damon followed his gaze, and frowned at the two very FBI-cliché men.
"Are they real?"
Alaric gave him a jaded look. Decidedly, his boyfriend was giving him many looks lately.
"No, they're porcelain dolls."
"Alright, I get it. You're trying to be an ass."
"Not trying. Succeeding."
"Whatever."
Alaric took another sip of bourbon, sighed, kept his eyes closed for almost one minute, opened them and went back to staring at the two FBI agents. The Falkenbach in him was surely taking a nap, Damon mused, because there was no way he could have been more obvious.
"Ric, talk to me, I know you're brooding about something right now. My brother is the brooding king, I know what I'm talking about. So talk."
The hunter asked for a second drink, and his gaze went over every customer in the damn place. Now that the vampire thought about it, it was a bit like he was searching for someone.
Ric sighed once again, and Damon seriously thought of strangling him with the bartender's tea towel. After all, now, he could. Alaric had the Gilbert ring. Well, there was still the issue of the witnesses and the sheriff deputy who had just left the Grill's bathroom and the two FBI agents eating their meal only two meters away.
"I was thinking..."
"I had guessed that much."
A discreet punch on the leg made the vampire's smug smile disappear. Damon decided to listen. He had asked for it, after all.
"As I was saying before you interrupted me, I was wondering where the hell Gal is. Elena told me she was still in town, and I looked for her to help and deal with the Theodoric problem, but she's nowhere to be found. Now, we have the two clowns on the lookout, and I'm sure Theo won't take much longer to break free. We're having enough supernatural problems without adding up some serial killer issues."
The vampire nodded, thoughtful, and looked quickly at the two agents. He had forgotten how the FBI sometimes looked into serial killers cases. Since Ric's cousin had certainly used the Sobriety Merchant's modus operandi in many states, and maybe even in other countries, it made sense for the black suits to be here.
"So you're planning to ask your vampire ancestor to help you with your cursed hitman of a cousin?"
"More or less."
"Not a bad idea. But I'm sorry, I don't have the slightest idea where she is. Last time I saw her, she was telling me how I should go after you for both our sakes."
Alaric arched an eyebrow at the comment, a bit surprised by Galswinthe's actions, but eventually stayed silent and looked away. Curious, Damon took another look at the FBI agents, and quickly understood they weren't the cause of Ric's behavior anymore.
Theodoric had just came in, and was walking towards them with an unpleasant smile on his face. Two young women started to giggle as he passed by their table. The young man cast a sidelong glance at the two men, who squinted their eyes when they saw him. They had that look, that they thought they had already seen him before, but couldn't remember when or where.
Ric's cousin took a seat right next to his relative, and asked for a beer.
Damon groaned in dissatisfaction.
The younger Saltzman looked at him curiously, but the vampire waved his hand.
"Don't mind me. I know everything about your little family secret, and Ric is not in jail, so you really can talk about any murderous feelings without fear."
The hunter glared at his boyfriend, as he could say as much about the vampire. Even if sending Damon to jail wouldn't do any good, with the compulsion and everything. Then he glared at his cousin, still angry with the trick Theo had played on him two days before.
Theodoric shrugged, and drank some of his beer.
"Landyn wouldn't approve of anyone knowing, Alaric."
The hunter's glare became murderous.
"Says the one who brought the police on our trail with his hobbies. Besides, you brought the FBI with you in my town, so I don't give a fuck about what you think. As for Landyn, she has things more important to do than to silence Damon. And even if she tried..."
Damon grinned at the suspicious Falkenbach sitting next to his favorite Falkenbach.
"You Saltzmans aren't the only ones with dirty little secrets. I know yours, Ric knows mine. And be careful, he's feeling grumpy today."
Alaric punched the vampire, in the guts this time, as discreetly as he could. Damon still growled, for the punch hadn't been light. Granted, the hunter was a bit more than grumpy.
"Aside from that, your two days off were enjoyable?"
Theodoric squinted his eyes, realizing the black-haired man sitting next to his cousin knew about his... forced leave. He wondered if that meant he also knew about the reason behind the forced leave. As Ric had mentioned the FBI not long before, he mused that yes, the man called Damon knew about the murder. He remembered how Damon had been with Alaric when he had greeted his cousin at the party the other day. There was something he didn't know, and Theo didn't like that.
He cast a glance at his cousin, only to meet an angry glare.
"If only it could have taught him a lesson..."
"It did. I now know how to undo a knot with my hand tied and an oyster knife."
Alaric rolled his eyes, not bothering anymore with the intended thickness Theo was displaying.
"I don't know about you, Damon, but I'm leaving. There are people I can't bear in this bar."
"Coming."
The vampire gulped the last of his bourbon and made a move to leave and follow his boyfriend. He couldn't say he liked Ric's cousin, to put it mildly. Once again, the young man was too much like the bastard / switched-off version of himself.
But as he stood up, Damon's eyes fell on the back of a man he didn't know, who wasn't from Mystic Falls, and who had the Falkenbach scar on his left shoulder. He instantly stopped dead in his tracks, and searched for Alaric's eyes.
The hunter met his gaze and looked discreetly at the man as this one sat down on a bar stool.
Of course, Theodoric did exactly the same, and the three adults found themselves staring dumbfounded at an unknown man's shoulder. Neither Ric nor Theo had the slightest idea who he was, it was written all over their face, and yet what were the odds someone who wasn't a Saltzman had this particular scar?
After a while they sat back at the bar counter, as everyone else in the Grill was looking at them curiously. Amongst the spectators of this strange scene were the two FBI agents. It was definitely not the time to attract their attention. The only one who hadn't turned his head to look at them was the stranger himself.
He was dressed in a sporty fashion, track pants and sleeveless shirt, the reason why they had been able to see the scar. Medium length black hair, styled backwards, and cold grey eyes. A jaw that was much like Alaric's and his father's, lots of eyelashes as Theo had, dimpled chin. A gaze to freeze the Arctic Ocean.
The man finished his whiskey and finally looked at them.
"Do I know you? You seem oddly familiar."
Damon watched the conversation cautiously, ready to act if he needed to, though he had no idea what to do if anything happened, because he had not the slightest clue about what the stranger could do. This man was utterly unreadable as if... Like a Falkenbach would be. Right.
Theodoric spoke first, after having exchanged a wary look with his cousin. For once, they agreed about something, mused Damon. He had to remind his boyfriend of this one day, he simply had to.
"I fear not. But since you're asking... your scar is quite interesting. You did it yourself?"
"Oh, no. My father did. Family tradition."
"Strange... I'm sure I saw one just like yours, and the guy said the exact same thing."
The man suddenly tensed, and eyed the two cousins with attention. Behind them, Damon shook his head, indicating clearly that he had nothing to do with this... and also that he knew there was a hidden question behind the intensive examination.
The bartender came to them asking if they wanted anything else. The man turned his head to the teenager – surely working here for the holidays – and looked him in the eyes.
"You never noticed us. Go back to the other customers."
And surprisingly, the teenager complied, frowning as if he had forgotten why he had come to this part of the counter, when there was obviously no customer to serve here.
Theodoric was bemused at what he had just seen. Alaric and Damon, not so much. They shared a concerned look, and the hunter carefully asked if the stranger was perhaps looking for a person named Klaus.
The man's gaze became even colder than before, murderous, and definitely not pleasant.
"Theo, you leave now."
Alaric's voice had disturbed a nasty silence, and an even more perplexed than before Theodoric. The hunter's eyes had gone cold, deadly and menacing as well. The stranger watched Ric with renewed interest as the older of the two cousins was taking the lead.
Of course, the youngest didn't take it well, and started arguing, but eventually Damon compelled him to leave, barely avoiding a fork aimed at his left hand. What was the thing between the Falkenbachs and the cutlery, he didn't know, but he had a feeling even a spoon was a deadly weapon if put in their hands.
Once Theo had unwillingly-but-forced-to-comply left the Mystic Grill, the unknown man, who wasn't so unknown if Ric's hunch was right, watched the cursed man and the vampire in front of him with curiosity and animosity. They had talked about Klaus, after all.
"A vampire, and one of my descendant, I take it? What's your name, by the way?"
As Ric stayed stubbornly silent, his boyfriend rolled his eyes and took it upon himself to make introductions.
"Damon Salvatore. The merry man over there is Alaric Saltzman, and the youngster who just left is his cousin, Theodoric Saltzman. Are we wrong to guess your name is Hans Falkenbach?"
The man, or more accurately, the vampire, seemed to relax a bit, and Damon thought it was for the better if they could talk to him without using any kind of violence. Hans Falkenbach was way older – hence stronger – than him, and he was a freaking Falkenbach. Galswinthe had told the younger vampire that even Klaus feared her husband, and it was obvious why. Even though Hans wouldn't be able to kill the Original... Well, he could do much more than any regular vampire.
The vampire was a freaking Falkenbach.
That thought only was enough to give Damon the chills.
And an appropriate desire to run away, very, very fast.
Hans nodded. He was that person.
"Now, from what I know, Klaus was here not long ago. As I swore I'd make his life a living hell, would you be so kind as to tell me where I can find him?"
Alaric winced at the name of the Original, and pure loathing pervaded his usually controlled face. If the man and his ancestor had anything in common, besides the jaw, obviously, it was their hatred for Klaus, a vampire who had the disturbing habit of destroying other people's lives.
