So, there will be one more chapter to this part, and then you'll have to wait for me to sort out part 4, "Under pressure"

Also, I've been waiting for a long time for this to happen.

And my thirteen years old dog has a tumor. He's a red cocker spaniel I've had for twelve years and a half. There's nothing to be done, the tumor is too big. We'll have to put him to sleep. My mom already did that once with her german sheperd, before I was even born. Why can't we have dogs who just die in their sleep?


One world apart, part 28: A hassle to handle

Connor Jordan may be a bastard, according to some, but no one had ever accused him of being a fool.

Unlike the others ghosts, he had stood apart and watched, when they had gone after the Mystic Gang. He wasn't against killing them, quite the contrary, but they weren't his target that day. He had a much bigger mission to accomplish. Him, and the other hunters of the Five. He had been surprised to see only a few of his Brotherhood had held on until this day on the Other Side, but he guessed even supernaturally obsessed people could somehow find peace after a few centuries. And there was also the fact that the others could very well be somewhere else, outside of the Expression Triangle.

Connor had been right to stay out of the ghosts' revenge, after his first... exploding attempt. Qetsiyah had been painfully clear. His mission wasn't to end every vampire on earth, this time, but to get rid of the Immortal, Silas, by curing him. In a way, the hunter could understand the witch's opinion. Silas couldn't reproduce like vampires did, but he was still a blood-sucking monster. And one who had way too much power at hand.

The ghost watched, discreetly hiding under the bleachers, as Klaus Mikaelson came around and got temporarily rid of all the ghosts around. Connor knew from first-hand experience that it wasn't a good idea to get killed, even as a ghost. It'd take too much time to come back to "life", and he had no time to lose. Any minute passed without consciousness was a chance for his current target to get out of reach.

The dead hunter squinted at the figure of Damon Salvatore, bloodied hands, and the cadaver of a ghost at his feet. His target was standing just here, only a few dozens of meters away.

But he couldn't make his move right away. Trying to abduct the vampire right now, even with a gun loaded with wooden bullets that had been dipped into werewolf's poison, would be stupid. Half the monster's monster friends were around, and the original hybrid was there too.

Connor may be dead, but he wasn't suicidal for all that.

Again, getting killed would make him waste time.

He waited a bit, and was rewarded with the sight of the group dissolving. The hybrid and the blonde vampire left on their own, while the other teens went to... well, he had no idea. That left Damon Salvatore and the town's sheriff, staring in annoyance at the numerous bodies of people who had already been dead, even before getting killed. If the hunter had allowed himself to have feelings, he might have felt sorry for them. It really looked like a hassle to handle.

Connor focused, and managed to hear something that sounded like "I'm going to call for the deputies.". It made sense. The sheriff would have have a hard time taking care of all these bodies on her own, or even with the vampire's help. And if she knew about the supernatural, it wouldn't be so surprising if some of her men did too.

This whole town was obviously infested by the supernatural, and apparently some of the inhabitants had known for some time already.

Anyway, it worked in the hunter's favor.

The sheriff left, and there was only Damon Salvatore left. Connor fiddled for a moment with the Cure, hidden in his pocket, before finally making his move. The Salvatore brothers were the ones who had taken the Immortal away...So he would just ask, nicely at that, where to find Silas.

In a swift move, the ghost got out of his hiding place. The vampire turned around at the sudden noise. Connor threw a knife at Salvatore's back before the vampire could see him properly.

Damon felt something pierce his jacket, and a burning sensation suddenly overrode all his other senses. It took him less than three seconds to recognize the unpleasant feeling of vervein scorching at his skin and flesh, burning it away repeatedly, almost faster than he healed. It wasn't quite the same pain as when he had tried to burn himself by sunlight, one year ago. He still had his ring on.

The vampire blindly reached at his own back, searching for whatever it was that had injured him, and had let the vervein in. In another situation he could have easily known if it was a blade or a bullet, but the burn of the vervein blurred all his other senses.

He had fallen to his knees, and was barely able not to just go head first to the ground.

Luckily, he had started to drink vervein some time ago already. It hadn't made him immune, far from it, but at least it protected him from the Originals' compulsion. As there was only Rebekah left in town, he hadn't taken any lately, but he still was used to the effects.

Already his sight was getting better. He was light-headed, and he couldn't really see traight ahead. There was less vervein in this shot than in Elena's, luckily. What was the deal with people and vervein, today? They were all out for his blood, or what?

His hand touched something cold, and Damon managed to get a grip on the handle of some knife. At the same moment, he recognized the vaguely blurred face of Connor Jordan, vampire hunter extraordinaire, and currently a ghost.

Go figure. If someone was to take him down with a verveined knife, who else could it have been?

Though it seemed a bit strange. Why hadn't the ghost killed him already? Did he want to know something?

When the hunter spoke, his voice echoed a bit to Damon's addled sense of hearing.

"Long time no see, Salvatore. Though, I've been watching you and your gang, even from the Other Side. I have to admit you know how to blend in, for a monster."

Damon snorted, or at least he tried to. He wasn't sure a snort was supposed to sound like that, but unfortunately, he was in no state to do any better.

"So you're a stalker ghost. Wonderful. You should put it on your CV. Oh, wait, you're dead."

Jordan ignored the bait. Instead, he crouched down, so Damon was better able to see the man's face.

"But no matter how many people you guys don't kill, there are always one or two people who suffer from your very existence. If I didn't have a more important matter to attend to, I'd cut your head off here and now."

"Happy to feel loved. And no, I don't care what Vaughn and you other Brotherhood of the Five Knuckleheads want to do with Silas and the Cure. We took care of Silas. You don't have to un-immortalize him."

The black man gave him a hard stare, and Damon knew it wouldn't be that easy. It never was, especially not with people as obsessed as Connor Jordan had been.

The vampire hunter grabbed him by the shoulder, and pulled up. Before he could tell how or why exactly, Damon was on his two feet, his legs wobbling dangerously, and a gun at his back. Probably poisoned bullets, at that. Oh man... Why did the world hate him so much?

Jordan pushed him to walk, holding strongly onto his arm. The ghost was probably all that was keeping Damon upright, because his whole body really felt like jello. Slightly self-combusting jello, with the vervein in his system, but jello nonetheless.

Very attractive jello, too.

Not that Ric was anywhere around to see his jello boyfriend wobble around. A shame. The Original would have taken care of the ghost in a blink, like last time. Jordan sure looked like he wouldn't pay attention to anyone else than Damon right now, not before it was too late for him anyway.

"You're going to show me where you guys 'stashed' the Immortal. I have the Cure on me, and I just have to give it to him, then gank his sorry ass. Don't worry, you are next in line."

Oh, but Damon did worry. He didn't want his perfect ass to be ganked. He had a lot of things he wanted to do with his perfect ass.

But even if Jordan did not gank his perfect ass, he realized sadly, the only person he wanted to do these things with was not around either. Not for long, if anything. The vampire doubted he'd get another... great time with his lover before the Veil fell back into place.

Maybe it was the vervein making him moody, but Damon felt like pouting at the ghost.

The hunter yanked at his arm, and they started walking – or, really, wobbling for him – out of here. Jordan pressed the gun more firmly against Damon's back.

"You don't get a choice, pretty boy. I'm sure you don't want to see for yourself what werewolf poison do to a vampire."

Damon tripped on a root.

"Done that already. It didn't stick around."

The ghost said nothing to that, and only pushed him harder. Damon wasn't happy with the situation, but what could he do? He guessed the best was to lead the crazed hunter to the place where they intended to get rif of Silas, but where they hadn't yet, because well, no time and all that. It would take some time, and while Jordan would be busy being led around, he wouldn't be threatening someone else. Beside, it wasn't as if Damon had much to live for. If the ghost shot him once he understood what was really going on, so be it. The vampire had lived already, and while he'd like to continue to watch over the kids, he was – almost – certain they could manage without him.

As the ghost and the vampire slowly left the football field, two people arrived at the scene by the other side. They saw the bodies of the ghosts, and the guy who was pushing another one around.

They shared a look of concern, and quietly made their way through the field to follow the two men.

They had been searching for Damon, and had encountered the girls on their way. Elena had been surprised, but happy to see them. They had quickly explained that a woman had somehow gotten them out before leaving town, and Bonnie had told them it was probably Ariane, a grim reaper. Apparently, she had some control over souls, being what she was. Bonnie had talked about them to her... Perhaps the reaper had wanted to do them a last favor before leaving. Or at least had tried to, and it had worked. The two were quite pleased with the results. They wouldn't complain, because, really, while they hadn't been dead, they hadn't been in the world either. It was good to be out.

One of the two particularly enjoyed the sunlight. Back there it hadn't been the same. It had been sunlight, but not like that.

A ghost would say the Other Side wasn't just another layer of the world, because there was something different, some underlying and ubiquitous noise in the background, something wrong with the light. Where they had been, it was kind of the same, just not in the same way. No background sounds, no faulty light, true, but nothing had ever really felt alive. They had been completely alone. It had been a bit like living in a painting. The other characters couldn't see you, they didn't move, and if you moved around them, you noticed they were blank on the other side. They were nothing but a copy of the real world.

At least they had been together. But still, after some time, it had been boring. Depressing. They might have ended their days, at some point, hadn't they been there, had they been able to. Of course, hadn't they been there, they wouldn't have had a reason to kill themselves, considering they would either have been in the real world, or, more probable, they'd have been dead.

Damon had saved them, unwittingly, perhaps, and not in a way anyone would have wished for, but he had saved them, by getting them in their prison. And they were his friends. They didn't intend on letting him be manhandled by anyone. Except Saltzman, perhaps, considering they didn't really have a right to say anything about what happened in the bedroom, but either way...

Maybe this time, it was finally their turn to save their friend.

Both knew they couldn't just waltz in between the man and the vampire and get the bad guy off their friend. It didn't work like that. They knew the black man was at least a hunter, if not more, and it was propable his gun wasn't loaded with just anything. Moreover they were mortal, and not particularly strong or quick. They had other abilities, true, but none that would be helpful here.

Getting themselves killed wouldn't help Damon much.

Once upon a time, one of the two might have had a chance, but now...

They followed the man and the vampire to a car. They almost panicked, realizing they wouldn't be able to follow them if the man decided to drive, but the youngest of the two had an idea. They hurried to the car, to get there before the man drove away.

Just before leaving, Connor Jordan looked around one last time. He had stuffed the vampire on the passenger seat, before giving him another shot of vervein, and didn't particularly want someone to come around and ask if his "friend" was feeling ill.

He thought he had seen someone walk behind the car, and cursed under his breath. It really wasn't the moment. But when he walked around the car, gun in hand, no one was there to be seen. Maybe it had only been his imagination. Or his paranoia, really.

The two sighed. He hadn't seen them.

The man drove to a quarry, and he and Damon walked to the water. Knowing they couldn't come just from behind him, they moved around the quarry, and looked deeply into the water reflections.

Damon could feel his last moment coming, as Jordan threatened him one more time.

Then, something burst out of the water behind the ghost, grabbed the hunter, and pulled him under.