Author's note: It's long, again. I know. Many words. Give it a chance :) I am not always happy with what I write but this one is rather good IMO :) Drama + bromance is a win/win no? And again – thanks a lot for your interest :)


Chapter 9

Alaric slammed the book shut when it occurred to him that he was reading one and the same page for the last thirty minutes and still didn't move past the first paragraph, his eyes staring sightlessly at the lines of words the meaning of which was way past his perception. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, then raked his fingers through his hair and fall heavily against the back of the chair as it creaked softly beneath him. His gaze drifted to the window and he idly observed the front yard outside, empty for the most part.

His classes had finished a while ago although at some point he lost track of time and couldn't say for sure how much time had passed since then, exactly. Couldn't have been too long ago, Ric thought absently. Late November sun was hanging low in the sky approaching the horizon line. It was filtering through the open blinds making the furniture in the classroom cast long funny shadows that crossed the floor and the walls forming an eerie pattern. But it still was high enough to figure that the time was hardly past four in the afternoon.

Well, chances were the time had just stopped, Alaric thought ruefully and let out a long exasperated sigh. It wouldn't surprise him, not even a little. On that note, nothing would ever surprise him again, period.

Still staring out the window, he leaned forward and propped himself on his elbows. It would probably make sense to try and collect his thoughts together and try to sort them out somehow. The only problem was that he had no idea where to start.

He didn't remember much of what had happened between him leaving the Gilberts' house in the morning and now as if his mind had just blacked out. During his classes he'd been speaking automatically and was probably making some sense even. Either that, or no one noticed the difference. Or didn't care, come to think of it, which was totally fine with him. To be honest, he didn't give a crap either assuming that his mind was focused on one thing only, as if the time froze and couldn't move forward past one episode.

It was like a nightmare, only he couldn't rely on awakening to have it gone. The details of the morning events were as bright and fresh as ever and he kept replaying them over and over and over again as if trying to see something that he didn't see at first. Or something that would make it look any different. Read – fruitlessly trying to understand what the hell his reaction was about.

Was it the fact that Jenna didn't tell him about John, or that it was John? Why? For Christ's sake, why did it have to be John Gilbert? Of all people… Ric scoffed humorlessly. Like a tease, huh? First Isobel, now Jenna. All linked to John Gilbert. It was at the very least… what? Cruel? Unfair? Karma, he thought with a mental snort. As if there was no way for John Gilbert to escape sleeping with his women.

Ric shut his eyes tight for a moment erasing the images from his head before he actually started to lose his mind as the anger kept rising in hot waves and boiling inside of him. The thing that bothered him most though was that he had no idea who he was angry at – John, for the very fact of his existence; Jenna, for not telling him about her relationship with her brother-in-law; or himself, for a very, very long list of reasons which he didn't really want to go into. Like it wasn't messed up enough already!

Well, she didn't lie to him, Ric had to admit, and flinched inwardly. It simply didn't come up and technically speaking, it was another thing entirely. He knew that she would never lie him to his face if he had asked her. Jenna and lying… she had an issue about honestly, past mistakes considered, and he had to give her that. Especially when he couldn't brag about his own openness, and he also couldn't blame her for bringing up his past faults either. The thing was, he'd never think of asking because he would never ever be able to imagine something as horrible as that. Not even in the worst of the nightmares, and face it – he knew all about them.

He knew she told the truth about it being long over, too. Alaric could see it. Feel it even, if you please. When she was with him… he just knew it. Besides, from what he had a pleasure to witness and observe, Jenna pretty much despised John, and since he always shared the feeling, he didn't find it surprising and never asked any questions. She was a smart woman after all, and she was not blind. So, he just assumed that they had some family issues or a different view on Elena and Jeremy's future or whatever other issues two different people could have. He never gave much thinking to it, not wanting to get into something that wasn't his business. Now though, it all gained a whole new shade to it and of course it made him wonder—

Wonder. He shook his head amused by the word. It wasn't some damned curiosity, for crying out loud! He was jealous like never before in his entire life and it was eating him from the inside. He was jealous and he was hurt because he trusted her, and she…

She did what?

Alaric let out a long breath. With all the things going on with Isobel – all the thoughts coursing through his head regarding her offer and everything that she'd said to him – did he have any right to accuse Jenna of anything at all? He wanted to, yes, but wasn't it blaming his own faults on her just because he felt so bad about not being completely honest with her? After all, there were some things he didn't tell her about. Like Logan. Like that vampire's bite on her neck on the night of the car crash.

Oh boy, she would never ever let him get away with that!

But the whole self-loathing thing aside, the truth was that despite himself, Alaric started questioning everything else. Was there anything else that she kept him in the darkness about? Could she? Would she?

The thought caused a pang of guilt in his chest and he screwed his eyes tight and pinched the bridge of his nose pushing it away. She wouldn't and she didn't. And he knew it. He knew her well enough to be sure about something like that. The expression of her face when they were talking a few hours ago spoke volumes. There was… defeat. He hurt her and he hated himself for it, and if there was a way to make it any worse, he didn't know how.

And yet, he turned around and left, and thinking about it now, he had to admit that he had no idea why he did it. He had no bloody idea why this discovery was such a big deal in the first place. They weren't high school kids. Each of them had a baggage of the past relationships, and it was a heavy one, too. After all, it was he who had a vampire of an ex who attacked Jenna. It was he who didn't tell her the whole truth from the start, if only for her won safety. She was so damn right about all of that!

So was it really about John Gilbert then? Was the idea of him being involved with both women that meant a lot to Ric so unbearable that he could walk away like that because of it? His head started to spin when the thought crossed his mind. Or was it because he needed an excuse to walk away from Jenna now because it suddenly turned out that he wasn't exactly over Isobel and needed time to sort out this whole situation with her? He could be lying to anyone about it, but what was point of lying to himself?

Well, it wasn't anyone's fault that it happened in the first place, right? Neither Isobel's, nor Jenna's. It wasn't like any of them did it on purpose to rub it in Alaric's face years later. It was just a coincidence. Cruel and unpleasant, but coincidence all the same.

So what the hell was wrong with him?

I didn't find out about your vampire of an ex until she attempted to rip my head off. Were you ever planning to tell me about her if it didn't happen?

Alaric rubbed his face with his hands. Another thing he preferred to avoid thinking about.

He didn't know the answer to that question. He'd rather not to if only because he cared enough to want to protect her. God knew it was safer for her to stay away from the darker side of life in Mystic Falls. And hadn't things changed so dramatically, he'd be tempted to keep it that way. Which of course wasn't speaking in favor of his best qualities, or whatever. He couldn't imagine dragging Jenna into all of this and turning her life upside down just because. She deserved better than this.

But then again…. Ric pressed the heels of his palms into his eyelids. He knew he wouldn't be able to lie to her forever, didn't he? No relationship built on lies and secrets stood a chance to survive and he – Ric let out a sigh – he really wanted it to work. For the first time in a very long while something good happened to him. Something that was finally making sense. Something that felt so damn good!

And then there was John Gilbert, damn him! And he was living right there with her, in the same house, and maybe—

Alaric cut himself off, his mind practically on fire by this moment. Abruptly, he stood up. The legs of the chair scraped against the floor and the back of it hit the board behind him. The sound echoed loudly in the empty room as he crossed it and walked up to the window in several brisk strides to peer outside. Most of the trees stood naked already, their crooked branches reaching out for the sky and swaying in the light breeze. Those that were not, looked like bright-yellow and orange spots on the grayish background. Dead leaves of all colors from pale-yellow to dark-red were scattered all over the still green grass of the yard.

Any other time he'd probably find the picture peaceful and maybe a little sad. For some reason he had always loved autumn the most. Its slow pace and serenity, always a new beginning. Now though it seemed to be almost disturbing. He could no longer see the beauty of it. Come to think of it, he couldn't see much of it at all, period. His feverish mind was not able to focus on anything. Restlessly, Alaric shifted from foot to foot.

So what now? Where was it putting them?

What if it was a sign, too? He tried to push the thought away but failed. Not that he was into the whole fate and signs thing but come on! Why would all of that be happening the way it was in any other case? Isobel and their conversation, the truth about Jenna and John's relationship—

Past relationship, he reminded himself as his hands balled into fists against his will.

He was going crazy…

Soft rap on the door made Ric snap back and he turned around to see a guy from the MF High football team whose name didn't come to his might straight away scan the classroom until his eyes stopped at him.

"Mr. Saltzman?" He started if a little uncertainly.

Right, the coaching. So that was why he was still here. It totally slipped his mind, which wasn't that surprising after all.

It took Ric a moment to collect his thoughts together. "Um…" His gaze darted towards the clock hanging above the chalk-board. "I'm coming. Sorry. I'll be right there."

The guy – Josh? Yeah, Josh – hovered in the doorway for a few seconds, and then nodded curtly and walked away.

Alaric threw one last glance out the window noting that the sky was somewhat purplish by now and the last rays of sun kept clinging to the low clouds and then turned away. He needed time for the thoughts to settle. They would talk later and work it out, one way or another. For now, the best thing he could do was to live one minute at a time.

Having a poor imitation of a plan formed in his head, Ric walked out of the class, locked the door and headed for the change room.


Jenna's feet felt cold. The chilliness was slowly coming up her calves and spreading over her body. It wasn't bad or uncomfortable, just strange, and absently she wondered where it was coming from, what with her attention unfocused and her mind foggy. If only she could concentrate a little harder, if only because she was curious…

Her eyes snapped open as if someone flipped the switch and she gasped for breath as everything swayed a little around her and she reached out for something to hold onto to keep her balance, the movement more reflexive than conscious. Her fingers brushed against cold and sleek surface and she grasped at it blinking and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, not sure for a couple of seconds if she was awake or still dreaming.

And then it took her a moment to absorb the fact that she was standing in the middle of the kitchen clutching at the isle counter for support and the moonlight was streaming through the window above the sink reflecting in metal objects and coating everything with pale silvery light. Jenna span around half-expecting to see someone else there with her because the feeling that something was watching her from behind was there and it was almost physical, like a touch. But the kitchen was empty and the house remained silent, except for the purr of the fridge and soft ticking of the clock in the living room.

Absently, Jenna looked down herself. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts – the outfit she changed into before going to bed a few hours ago. Which of course was good thing perhaps but it could hardly explain how she ended up here if the last thing she remembered was switching off the reading lamp on the bedside table. And it was only then that she noticed that she was holding something in her free hand, her fingers closed around it so tight that it almost hurt. Her breath hitched in her throat when she lifted her hand up and saw a bread knife. Its blade – long and sharp – winked at her catching and reflecting the moonlight like a mirror.

Horrified, she tossed it aside as if it was something disgusting, and it fell to the tiled floor with a loud metal ting and slid away to the far corner of the kitchen.

Jenna let out a long breath and leaned heavily against the counter propping herself on her elbows and resting her forehead against the knot of her clasped together hands as she kept taking one short breath after another concentrated on the flow of air in and out of her lungs and counting in her mind. A rush of adrenaline in her body was making her knees tremble slightly and blood pounded in her ears creating that numbing buzz, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to stand straight without collapsing to the tiled floor.

Okay, just calm down now, she told herself. Except that she was losing it and she knew it. Not the most consoling thought but how else could she explain the sleepwalking? She tried to remember if she had any dreams before waking up here – anything that could make it any more reasonable – but there was nothing, only blackness and emptiness. Either a dreamless sleep or her mind erased it from her memory.

And it wasn't the first time either, Jenna thought with growing dread and swallowed. Two nights ago she woke up exactly like that, standing with her hand on the door knob in the hall, with a hoody pulled over her pajama and car keys clutched in her hand. She forgot to put on some shoes but who would think about something like that while not being awake, exactly?

It freaked her out back then. What would she do if she didn't wake up? Where would she go? Would she actually drive somewhere in her sleep? And how on earth could it possibly end? She could quite easily drive right into the concrete wall and be happy about it.

After that Jenna spent the rest of the night drinking one mug of coffee after another, more or less eager to drown herself in it. Or just drown herself, period. She tried to think logically, past her panic and fear, attempting to analyze what had happened from the rational point of view and sticking to the facts as she tried to calm herself down.

But she was frightened and tired so it didn't work. Instead, she ended up darting her gaze at the clock every few seconds willing the arrows to move faster and listening to the sounds of the old house around her. Creaks and whispers she never paid much attention to were now having some eerie subtext to them, making her blood run cold at the thought that something could be hiding there in the shadows. Whether it was exhaustion or her overheated imagination, she couldn't help feeling a thousand of eyes staring at her as her mind played tricks on her driving her nuts.

By the time the dawn broke at last and the sky started to turn pale blue in the east, Jenna was on the verge of a serious breakdown and her mind was practically exploding from all the thoughts coursing through it. She was a nervous wreck wish a mess in her head and paranoia, and mentally she swore off any sleep in the nearest future.

She slept like a stone the following night though. Despite her intentions to stay awake and two gallons of coffee, she simply blacked out. Must have been the way her body took care of itself when she came to a point of extreme exhaustion, physical and mental. It was as if she simply fell into the bottomless black abyss, but at least she felt rested and more or less alive the next morning, and that she was grateful for.

She swallowed the urge to talk to Elena about it. Not after all these hours that she spent assuring herself that it was nothing but some freaky accident. And assuming that there was no sleepwalking the following night, she foolishly considered it to be a one-time thing and hurried to write it off to stress and overall anxiety of the past weeks.

God, could she ever be more wrong?

Slowly, Jenna straightened up as if not sure she could actually keep herself in the upright position and swept the kitchen with yet another glance. Everything seemed to be as usual, she decided distractedly. In fact, it was so usual that she couldn't wrap her mind around it.

She reached out for the glass and filled it with water but then had to put it aside almost immediately. Her hands were shaking and the idea of consuming something even if it was just water was nauseating. She took a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down. Not that it was helping much but she had to do something or at least create an illusion.

Back then, two nights ago, her first instinct was to call Alaric. She even reached for the phone without so much as a second thought because it was something almost as natural as breathing, until her hand froze over it when a small evil voice inside of her head reminded Jenna that there was no Ric anymore and she was one on one with all of that. Her heart constricted at the thought and she curled her fingers into a fist. Her nails dug painfully into soft flesh of her palm but she couldn't care less. She was going crazy and she was all alone.

Okay, scratch that. Someone was driving her crazy, that Jenna was sure of. Someone out there was watching her, following her, and wanting her to believe that she was losing the remains of her sanity. And she had no clue how to stop it. And she was scared.

What was she going to do with this knife if she didn't wake up? What if tomorrow she'd go to the bathroom in her sleep and cut her veins in the bathtub or swallow a pack of sleeping pills and down them with that bottle of Grayson's favorite whiskey that she knew was still standing in the cupboard because it had the most disgusting taste ever? Or worse – what if she tried to hurt Jeremy and Elena in their sleep and they wouldn't even notice? What if it was exactly what she was going to do now?

The thought made her sick and she swallowed hard feeling that her head started to spin as a mother of all headaches began to form behind her eyes. At this point she might as well go and lock herself up in a room with padded walls for everyone else's sake. Or better – ask someone to lock her up to make sure she wouldn't get out.

Short bitter chuckle escaped Jenna's lips. Yeah, right, here's to positive thinking, huh?

Come on, Sommers, you can be an adult for once and deal with all that crap without whining, can't you?

And then she almost had a heart attack when someone flipped on the light behind her back.

She whirled around to a familiar, "Jenna?" and couldn't help letting out a sigh of relief.

"Elena," she mustered a small uncertain smile trying to cope with accelerated heartbeat and somewhat forced breath. "You scared me."

"What are you doing here?" Elena frowned.

"I-" kind of woke up here although I still hope that it was only some stupid teleportation like in cheap sci-fi movies and not some vamp messing with my brain in order to make me go and kill somebody. Maybe even myself. Her eyes flickered to the glass of water. "—came down to have something to drink. Why are you up?"

"I heard… something," she rubbed sleepily at her eyes and stifled a yawn. "So technically speaking, you scared me first." To that Jenna responded with a crooked smirk. "I thought you were staying at Ric's tonight."

Jenna's heart clenched. I wish! "No, not tonight," she attempted to sound casual.

Obviously, not casual enough because Elena didn't seem to buy it as her eyes searched Jenna's face. "Are you guys okay?"

Jenna hesitated. "Yeah, we're—we're fine," she faked a weak smile hoping she'd manage to joke it off one way or another. "It's just-" Rubbed at her forehead tiredly and then smiled a little more genuinely than before. "Some stuff keeps piling up, and my paper… I'm a little stuck, and on top of everything else…" she trailed off and shrugged. "You know."

"I kind of do," Elena grimaced.

"You should go to bed."

"What about you?"

We don't happen to have a guest room with padded walls, do we?

"I think I better watch TV for a while," Jenna nodded towards the living room. Paused for a moment as her gaze wandered around the kitchen, and then walked up to the coffee machine deliberately keeping her eyes off of the knife that was still lying by the counter and trying not to go into what a bad sign it was to drink coffee in the middle of the night because she was scared of going to bed. "Need to switch my mind to something else," she explained giving Elena a look over her shoulder. "Some middle of the night low budget comedy could help, I guess."

"I could stay with you," Elena offered willingly.

"No, I'm fine, really." Jenna ran her fingers through her hair feeling almost physical urge to call Alaric. "And at least one of us should be able to drive tomorrow."

Reluctantly, Elena nodded even though her eyes remained suspicious but she didn't push. "Okay then, try not to make it a habit."

"Trust me on that."

In the living room, Jenna sank down onto the leather couch and reached out to turn on the reading lamp. She leaned her glass of water against her forehead hoping it would cool down her overheated mind. As if it could really help. As if anything could.

A week ago her biggest problem in life was having nightmares that she couldn't explain. It was funny how the tables could turn. Complaining about some harmless nightmares was almost like a dream now that she had a real problem that she also had to figure out how to solve. Without self-decapitation.

Her gaze slid idly along the room not fixing on anything in particular. Coffee machine beeped behind her back but she barely registered the sound. There should be a way to put an end to it. Whoever was doing it to her – there should be something she could do to stop it. Well, she didn't know where to begin and it was kind of a problem. But at least she was positive that she wasn't losing her mind just because, and it was definitely a bright side. In any case, she could either deal with it or go jump off the roof, Jenna thought sourly. And when did she get so optimistic, again?

Well, for starters she might as well stop feeling sorry for herself. And just to make it a little more exciting, she would have to find out how long a human being could last without sleep.


It was the smell of the wet concrete and a rough surface her cheek was pressed against that woke her up. Slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked a few times not quite sure she was actually awake. It was more like a dream. Or – assuming her whereabouts – a nightmare.

It was cold. She was lying on the floor and her right shoulder and neck hurt from uncomfortable position her body stayed in for god knows how long. It took her about half a minute and a great deal of self-reassurance to actually turn her head because she thought her neck would just snap. Moving wasn't such a good idea. As soon as her muscles flexed, sharp pain shot through her making her grimace involuntarily.

Hollie Matthews, sophomore student of Mystic Falls High, had no idea how she ended up here, wherever here was, feeling like that. The last thing she remembered was changing into her jeans and a t-shirt and stuffing her cheerleader's costume into her beg. She tied her chestnut hair in a perky pony-tail and pulled on her jeans jacket knowing that the temperature must have dropped by the evening. She was only a short walk away from her car but she didn't want to risk getting cold and ending up a sore throat or something else nasty. Not with the game that was planned for the next weekend and that she was really looking forward to. Everyone left about half an hour ago but she stayed behind wanting to work on some elements without anyone watching so that she could actually concentrate. Now that she actually was on the team, she didn't want to screw it up.

The night was clear, and she couldn't help smiling at the sight of the starts scattered around the pitch-black sky above her. She air was cold and fresh and she inhaled deeply as she stepped outside and closed the door behind her back slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

"Excuse me," a voice behind her back stopped Hollie in her tracks when she was half-way to her car making her turn. "I must have taken the wrong turn. Do you know how I can get back to Maple Street?"

…Not without effort she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her arms were tied and her wrists were bruised and hurting from the tight rope holding them together. She looked around fighting to see something in semi-darkness. It was a cellar or a warehouse of some sort. The air was dump and heavy. She saw the pipes running along the ceiling and somewhere in the distance the water was dropping on something metal, or so she thought when she registered the sound. Hollie pushed her hair off of her face and swallowed hard trying to ignore the dizziness and nausea that tolled in her stomach.

"Well, hello!"

She whirled around to the sound of the voice and her eyes grew wide with fear. "No, please," she mumbled hoarsely, her throat was dry and felt like sandpaper. "Please, don't hurt me." Lopsidedly, she scooted over until her back was pressed against rough wall as she wished she would merge into it. Her heart pounded so loud that she could barely hear anything beside it.

Her captor smiled revealing two long fangs that stood out too much to miss them.

"Goodbye!"


Jenna lifted her hand, paused for a moment and then knocked. She shifted from foot to foot feeling antsy and fighting a wish to run away before it was too late.

It had been a week. He never called like she half-expected him to. Okay, to hell with half – she ended up going to the bathroom with her phone out of fear to miss the call. And how not cool was that? A few times she picked it up to make a call herself, pride or whatever aside, but she didn't know what to say. If, of course, there was anything left at all, which she wasn't that sure of. Jenna couldn't help thinking that he made a point by going off the radar. Which was so much worse than the fight itself. Which was probably worse than any fight.

Okay then, he needed time. She gave it to him. Maybe she needed some as well. Apparently, she wasn't as over the whole Isobel and the vampires thing as she thought she were. But she knew herself and she knew that eventually it would settle. The thing was, she believed in them from the start. Yet, she wasn't blind or oblivious. She saw that something was wrong with him and knew that he didn't leave the past behind just yet. Some part of him was still clinging onto it. And it wasn't something she could do for him no matter how much she'd want to. In order to move on, he had to deal with it on his own. And the whole thing between them – maybe it wasn't the right time for it, as much as it hurt to think so. But in order to get to "let's take a pause and just let it be", they really needed to come clean about what was going on.

She could deal with it of course. Only not now when her mind was literary exploding from all the other things crowding it. Not with some vampire breathing down her neck. It was just too much, and she had to finally scratch at least one thing out of the list, for better or for worse. So, they needed to talk and get it over with for good.

Jenna took a breath and then exhaled slowly. She didn't call, partly out of fear that he would find a thousand and one reasons not to pick up, and partly because she couldn't bring herself to actually do it. And now, standing before the door to Alaric's apartment and counting seconds in her mind, she wondered if a little belatedly if it was a big mistake after all. But the truth was, this five-minutes-long spur-of-a-moment drive to his place with the lamest excuse ever took just this much out of her to think anything through properly.

Scram!

But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, the lock on the other side clicked and the door burst open to reveal Ric standing on the other side in his faded jeans and grey long-sleeved t-shirt. His hair was a little rumpled as if he kept running his fingers through it every now and then. A subconscious gesture. Exactly the way she remembered. It was funny how some of his habits got stuck in her head when she didn't even pay much attention to them. Not on purpose at least.

He looked rather tired too, she noted somewhat absently but not without concern. These dark circles under his eyes definitely weren't there the last time she saw him. He looked… weary, and Jenna would lie to herself if she denied the fact that her heart skipped a beat. Hell, her heart was pounding so hard that she was pretty sure that Ric, as well as everyone within a five-mile radius around them, could hear it.

"Jenna?"

Just do it!

"Hi," she mustered the lousiest imitation of a smile ever and regretted not calling momentarily.

Or coming here at all, come to think of it. What exactly kept her from never talking to him again? He did seem to be surprised but if she was any good at reading facial expressions, it wasn't a "I'm so happy to see you" surprise. Not even close. In fact, he seemed to be quite thrown by her visit, and Jenna wondered where the rewind button was when she needed it most.

"I'm sorry for coming unannounced-"

"Is everything okay?" He was all on alarm by the second, his eyes searched her face pensively.

"Yeah, I-" just feel kinda stupid. Like, really, because the real reason why I came here is that I missed you and wanted to see you. Now open the dictionary and find my photo near the definition of Pathetic. "It's just for a moment."

"Um, sure… Come in."

"Thanks." She stepped inside and stopped. Took a breath and willed herself to sound casual. "My earrings… they should be somewhere on the nightstand or on the dresser. I forgot them here."

It took him a moment to process her words because over that minute that had passed since he opened the door, his mind willingly offered him a bunch of the disasters that could have happened, most of them involving some creatures of the night in one way or another. And when the moment of panic was over – what with her looking physically unharmed and all – he couldn't help hoping that she had the guts to do what he should have done, like, six days ago.

But… earrings? Seriously?

"Oh, sure." Ric gestured at her to feel free and go wherever she wanted keeping disappointment back.

"No, it's fine. I'll wait here if you can just bring them." And ten points for good act! She linked her fingers together to make it less obvious that they were trembling.

Ric hesitated for a moment, but then nodded and walked away to come back half a minute later. Reached out and dropped two small pieces of gold and pearls into her open palm. Their fingers brushed accidentally and Jenna hurried to close her hand around her jewelry as if the touch of his skin burned or electrocuted her. She was aware that he noticed it too but even her skills at suppressing her feelings weren't that spectacular.

"Thanks," she took her time to put them in her bag.

Alaric watched her in silence not knowing what to say. To be honest, there were not that many words that came to mind, except that… did she actually just jerk her hand away?

That, and that she was damn beautiful. And that he missed her so bad that he could barely stand it, and that he felt like a fool, too. And that this week was the longest in his life and he drove past her house several times hoping to catch a glimpse of her. And that he couldn't get her out of her mind even for a minute. And that the realization was so scary that he couldn't pick up the bloody phone and dial her number even though his hands literary itched to do it, if only because he wanted to hear the sound of her voice on the other end of the line. And that it hurt to stand a couple of feet apart now and feel miles between them. It was unbearable.

Jenna glanced up and let their eyes meet. "Look, about the other day," she started. "I said the things I shouldn't have." She paused trying to read his reaction. "And also, I should have told you about John perhaps." Cut off and shook her head. "Okay, scratch that. No perhaps. I should have told you, period." She chuckled humorlessly. "But I didn't. Mainly because it never meant anything. Even back then it was just a mistake and nothing else. And I am sorry for keeping it from you."

Well done! Dignity is still intact, mostly.

He didn't say anything at once, and for the next half a minute all Alaric could do was just watch her and feel like an idiot.

Ooookay, Jenna nodded mentally. Now scram!

But just when she was about to turn around and reach for the knob, he spoke.

"No, it's me who should be apologizing." He caught her gaze and held it feeling that his mouth had suddenly gone dry. Stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans if only to do something, feeling out of place all of a sudden. "I overreacted and I don't know why. It—came out of nowhere and it took me by surprise, so… I'm sorry, Jenna. I shouldn't have-" been so stupid. He trailed off and cleared his throat to fill in the pause.

Good start! Now tell her that you were a jerk and that you didn't mean to hurt her, and that you miss her and want her back badly. And beg for forgiveness, for Christ's sake!

Only the words had left his mind, and before Alaric managed to collect them back again, Jenna dropped the bomb, "So, this thing between us—it doesn't really work with all these secrets, huh?" She let a small rueful smile touch her lips as she lowered her eyes for a moment before locking them on his face once again.

And honestly, she might have as well punched him in the solar plexus, and still it wouldn't suck all the air out of his lungs as effectively as her words did. Ric swallowed hard feeling that his heart plummeted down into his stomach where it continued to thud oddly tuning up to his hitched breath.

He waited for a moment watching her closely not wanting to believe that she was serious, and then nodded slowly as all the things that he wanted to say became meaningless.

"Yeah, I guess it doesn't," he echoed in a voice that sounded odd and distant to his own ears. Well, if that was what she wanted… Awkward silence fell between them for a moment as none knew what else to say before Ric asked, "So… this is it then?" Hoping wildly that she would just laugh it off and say that it was nothing but a very-bad-not-at-all-funny joke. Or do something else impossible.

Of course she didn't.

"I don't know, Ric" Jenna said honestly shaking her head and breaking eye contact for a moment before looking up at him again. "I guess it is. I can't do it without you trusting me, and you don't." She took a breath to continue. "I'm sorry, but I just can't."

Well, she almost pulled it off, didn't she?

He didn't say anything, just nodded conceding her point, or whatever, and wondered absently how many nods away was his head from actually falling off. Not many, he hoped. Truth be told, he was sure that his adequate perception of reality turned off somewhere between "It doesn't really work" and "I just can't". The rest didn't really matter.

"Okay then," Jenna adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "I better go now."

She was out the door before Ric knew and he stepped into the hallway after her. "Jenna?"

She stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"

Come on! Do something! Say something! Anything!

For a moment he just watched her standing in the pool of the light cast by the mid-afternoon sun streaming through the hall windows. It was tangling in her honey hair making it look like a halo around her head. Making Jenna look almost surreal. Making him lose the train of his thought again.

"Take care, okay?" He said at last.

"Sure," she offered him an almost close to real smile and he couldn't help feeling the warmth radiating from it. "You, too. With all those blood-thirsty creatures crawling in the dark."

To that Ric had to smile, too. Couldn't help it, really.

And then she was gone leaving a subtle whiff of her perfume hanging in the air. Numbly, Alaric returned to his apartment and locked the door. Outside, he could hear the engine of her car rev to life. And it was then that something inside of him collapsed.

~ Falling a thousand feet per second

You still take me by surprise

I just know we can't be over

I can see it in your eyes

Making every kind of silence

Takes a lot to realize

It's worse to finish than to start all over

And never let it lie

And as long as I can feel you holding on

I won't fall

Even if you said I was wrong

"Perfect" by Hedley ~


Elena put her mug with a steaming hot tea onto the counter and went to retrieve peanut butter and jelly from the cupboard while waiting for the slices of bread to pop out of the toaster. She set both jars down by her mug and fetched a plate from the dish holder near the sink, opened the drawer to find a knife… and straightened up when Jeremy walked into the kitchen heading for the back door.

"Jer, where are you going?"

"Out," he called back without so much as a look at her.

"When are you going to be back?"

"Dunno," he shrugged pulling on his jacket and reached for the door handle.

"Jeremy-" Elena started towards him, her voice bearing a warning.

He stopped and turned to look at her, slightly annoyed. "What? I'll be back when I feel like it. You're not mom, Elena, so stop bossing me around, okay?"

The retort took Elena aback. "Of course I am not. Not one is. And I am not bossing you around, I am worried about you."

Jeremy scoffed, unconvinced. "Because of the vampire killings in town that you accidentally forgot to tell me about? Yeah, I got that so don't worry!"

She froze, swallowing the questions and feverishly trying to come up with the best way to wiggle out of the situation. "I don't want you to get involved with any of that," she said at least.

"So, it's true then." He shook his head. "And it never occurred to you that I am sort of involved by definition?"

Elena let out an exasperated sigh as she came closer and put her hands on the back of one of the chairs by the dining table. She was tired of fighting with him all the time but had no idea how to get it all fixed. Jeremy had a reason to be mad at her for letting Damon take his memories about what had happened to Vicki away and she honestly couldn't hold it against him. Wouldn't she be if the same thing happened to her? But the way he kept stubbornly refusing to see the story through her eyes was making her feel helpless and desperate. Couldn't he get over himself for once?

"Look, I just don't want you to get hurt, is all."

"Well, you keeping things from me kinda hurts, you know."

And how could he be so childish and immature? Unexpected wave of frustration swept over her.

"Would you please try to remember sometimes that the world is not just about you, Jeremy?" She asked and her voice rang with bitterness.

He snorted. "Well, it might be a surprise, but just for the record – it's not about you either, Elena. And whoever told you otherwise was wrong." He jerked the door open.

"Stop it, Jer! Stop being like that!" She snapped.

"Like what?"

"Selfish and irresponsible!"

"So, this is how it is called now?"

"This is how it was called always. Except that you're not 10 anymore. And life is not only about what you want. It's a little more complicated than that now. And mom and dad are not here to just let it slip anymore!"

"Don't drag mom and dad into it!"

Elena ignored him though. "There are people who care about you, Jeremy, whether you want it or not, and you might as well try and be a little less self-centered."

"You know what-" Jeremy started but the click of the lock and the sound of the door being opened and then closed that came from the hallway cut him off and made them both turn that way and crane their necks curiously.

Jenna paused for a moment at the base of the staircase and she saw them standing in the kitchen across the table from each other, her gaze shifted from one to another and then back. "Hey, guys," she gave them a small wave and a pretty fake smile, and headed upstairs.

For a few seconds they just listened to the sound of her footfalls before turning to look at one another once again.

"What had just happened?" Jeremy asked warily.

"I… don't know," Elena replied uncertainly.

"She must have heard us, right?"

"Yep." As well as probably half of the block.

"And she didn't say anything?"

"Not a word."

"You think it's serious?"

Elena chewed on her lower lip, let her eyes dart upwards. "I better go find out."

"Elena-" Jeremy started.

"Just be careful, okay?" She asked giving him a quick look over the shoulder on the way out.

Upstairs, Elena paused at the door to the master bedroom before rapping her knuckles on it. Waited for a moment and then pushed it open when no answer came from the inside.

"Jenna?" She called out cautiously as her gaze swept across the room.

Jenna was sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the bed and her legs crossed as she stared sightlessly out the window.

Elena hesitated in the doorway, uncertain, and then walked inside. Closed the door, came up to Jenna and lowered herself down to sit beside her. Jenna didn't acknowledge her appearance in any way and for a while they just sat there, none eager to speak first

"So… what's wrong?" Elena asked at last turning fully to her aunt when her curiosity mixed with growing anxiety peaked. Jenna was too much of a peace-maker to let the fight downstairs slip just like that. Not to mention this whole silent time.

"Nothing."

"Okay," she drawled in agreement. "Let's try again and skip the it's nothing part. What's going on, Jenna?"

Jenna dropped her gaze down to her hands that lay in her lap, her lips quirked into a rueful humorless smirk. "Ric and I…," she inhaled sharply. "It's over."

"What?" Elena blinked and took her time to run the words through her head again as if she wasn't sure she heard them correctly the first time. She couldn't have been serious. No way! "I… don't understand—why? What happened?"

"It just didn't work," Jenna let out in a whoosh of breath and shrugged half-heartedly.

"And?" After a short pause because some elaboration was kind of a must.

"And that's it." Not that there was anything else left to say.

Elena studied her thoughtfully before asking carefully, "Are you okay?"

Short bitter chuckle escaped Jenna's lips. "Define okay."

"Point taken."

"Well, he was only what, the best guy I've ever met in my entire life? Not a big deal, really," she shook her head and raked her fingers through her hair pushing it out of her hair and knowing that this time her voice betrayed her. Right about time to offer a slumber party with ice-cream therapy!

"Jenna-"

Elena reached out to cover Jenna's hand with hers and squeezed it a little, and there was just too much affection and sympathy in the gesture for Jenna to bear.

She turned away blinking, feeling that invisible hand squeezed her lungs from the inside, and bit her lower lip so hard that she felt metallic taste of blood in her mouth. And then she shook her head, turned back again and bumped her forehead into Elena's shoulder on a shallow convulsive exhale trying to breathe past that choking lump in her throat and waiting for the moment to pass. But then Elena's arms were around her, and before Jenna knew, she was crying in earnest hoping oh so much that it could actually help to ease the pain. If only a little.


Once inside the bar, Damon scanned the packed space catching bits and pieces of conversations here and there and noting absently that he remembered the song coming from the jukebox from 15 years ago. He didn't expect the bar to be so busy on Monday night but there he was, and no one around seemed to care less.

With the grace of a panther, he maneuvered his way across the restaurant part and past the pool tables to the far end where a few people were hanging out at the bar counter – either waiting for their orders, or not eager to join the buzz, as if turning their backs on the rest of the crowd kept them invisible to the world.

Effortlessly, Damon slid onto one of the tall stool at the far end of the counter and reached for the half-empty glass that stood in front of Alaric on the polished wooden surface. The ice-cubes clinked and Damon snorted as he studied rich amber liquid with genuine curiosity before putting it back and lifting his head up.

"What?" Ric asked in a flat voice not even pretending to be surprised, or interested, or whatever.

"Oh, well, just wondering what are you trying to drown in there," Damon's eyes flickered towards the drink once again. "Didn't find anything interesting by the way. Wanna share?"

Alaric dropped his gaze down. "It's nothing," he breathed out before taking a sip from his glass. Alcohol burned its way through his mouth and down his throat before settling heavily in his stomach as he waited for a familiar warmth to start spreading all over his body muting his senses. But for some reason it just didn't want to kick in tonight. All his thoughts and feelings were still there and he just hated it.

"Not convincing," Damon smirked and waved at the bar-tender The same, double pointing at Ric's drink. "But we'll come back to your high-school drama later."

"Let me guess – you have a far more interesting story?"

"And you have no idea how much I wish I didn't," Damon grimaced.

"I'm all ears."

"I've just been to a hospital," Damon told him lowering his voice, nodded a thank you to the bar-tender when his drink arrived and took a gulp without so much of a blink of an eye.

Ric quirked up a brow in amazement. "Don't tell me you choked on your own venom," he scoffed.

"Ha-ha," the vampire regarded him darkly. "Funny."

"Well, it's not like it is your thing only," Alaric shrugged and gestured to order another glass. "So, what's with the hospital? And please tell me it is not some exciting story about how you steal blood bags. Not today."

"No, smart ass, it's about a guy who was attacked in the woods and got out alive."

Alaric tensed and turned to give Damon a suspicious look. "Attacked by whom?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Any other stupid questions? If yes, spill now so that we could get it over with and move on to the serious stuff."

"A vampire?" Ric mouthed soundlessly.

"Now we're talking business!" Damon beamed with excitement. "Anyway, Liz called me when they found this guy on the highway practically bleeding to death and mumbling something about the monsters. As you can see, I had to find out what he knew." He shrugged then.

"And?"

"And now he thinks I was attacked by a bear."

"And – what did he see, Damon?"

"Oh, about that!" He drawled. "Well, he was coming back from the hunt, and the next thing he knew was that he was attacked by something with fangs and claws. You get the idea, right? But then his cell phone started to ring, and whatever he had for a ringtone saved his life. It spooked the vamp and gave our hero a chance to shoot his attacker a few times. He was in shock and didn't remember how he got to the highway but his memories about the attack were quite vivid." Damon finished his drink. "I had to correct them a little."

"Did he see who it was?" Ric tensed in anticipation. "Beside the whole claws and fangs thing."

"Nope," Damon huffed in annoyance. "He couldn't even say if it was a man or a woman, which could be so damn helpful! He was too scared and too… well, bleeding to pay attention to details. Which on the other hand was not that bad because he didn't spill too much. At least Sheriff and her squad won't be surprised when they hear a brand new story tomorrow. Bear, monster – close things. Blame it all on painkillers."

"Do you have any good news?" Alaric breathed out when Damon finished.

"No one died," the vampire reminded him eagerly.

"Okay, let me out it his way – are we sure that this vampire is the same one who is after Jenna?"

"No, but I hope so."

"Hope?" Ric asked in disbelief.

"Well, it is better to think that there is only one psycho on the loose instead of a bunch of them, no? What he is doing with Jenna is a game, an entertainment. Feeding, on the other hand, is a routine. Plus, a great chance to compromise us all leaving unwanted witnesses all over the… forest. So yeah, I better consider it to be one and the same vampire until we know for sure that we're wrong."

"And if we are?"

"Then we're screwed," Damon announced with misplaced enthusiasm.

Ric hemmed. "And you got so optimistic when?"

"When I turned 75," he confided. "It was the turning point. I looked back and realized that life wasn't all about unicorns and fairy tales. On the bright side…"

"You're quite optimistic for a pessimist," Ric sneered. "That's just unbelievable."

"On the bright side," Damon pressed on deliberately ignoring him, "he got sloppy and started making mistakes. Of course it could be just a moment of a really bad luck but let's hope he'll do something else that will give him away." He wiggled his eyebrows and then regarded Ric speculatively. "And now that we're done with the fun part… How about you tell me what happened to you? I mean I know that the school can be depressing but you should have known what you were signing up for."

Alaric ignored the sarcasm. He wasn't in a mood for a banter. He wasn't in a mood for anything, to begin with. Come to think of it, he had no idea what he was still doing there. A crowd of strangers chatting around him, and music coming from the jukebox, and bursts of laughter, and constant buzz of voices – all of that was what he needed least at the moment.

But after Jenna was gone he found himself pacing around his apartment, restless, feeling that the walls were closing in on him until he started to suffocate. Once his eyes stopped at the open newspaper with the article about that missing girl, Hollie Matthews, that Ric was reading right before Jenna showed up, but as soon as his gaze moved to something else, it was out of his mind and he couldn't even remember what he found so interesting about it in the first place.

He found her book and a notepad that she left on the table a few days ago and obviously forgot about them, and he hadn't even paid any attention to it before because he was getting used to coming across her stuff every now and then without finding it odd anymore. Even the pillows on his bed bore a lingering scent of hers. As well as some of his shirts that Jenna used to pull on mindlessly "because they were comfortable", which he found both amusing and adorable. And he couldn't get the image out of his mind. That, and the easiness with which she walked away.

And that was why he simply couldn't stay there one on one with his thoughts making the noise of the bar and bits of conversations about nothing that he effortlessly blocked out a lot more preferable option. Although, he had to admit, they started to lose their appeal soon after he arrived. But Ric didn't know where else to go, what with him knowing that he would hardly be able to find any peace wherever he would go, and he didn't quite want to move, too.

Losing Isobel was the biggest and the most terrible and most consuming pain he could ever have imagined. He could say that it nearly killed him and it wouldn't be an exaggeration. But it also gave him strength. It gave him purpose. For two years his life was lined and planned. It was as simple as that – find the monster, kill it, feel good.

He never actually thought about what it would be like to cross that line. And now that his perfect plan fell to pieces, he had no idea what he was supposed to do with his life. Apparently, it was the journey that mattered, not the destination. Especially since he arrived at the wrong place and was having drinks with the said monster that just couldn't stop cracking some lame jokes and that Alaric used to want to hunt down and kill more than anything.

Quite a dilemma, huh?

He had thought that finding Damon would settle things. That it would be the end. That he'd be satisfied with revenge and move on remembering the best of what he had with Isobel.

None of that ever happened though. She was the one who started it all in the first place and the brightest memory that he had of her now was the image of the fanged creature that promised to start killing innocent people if he didn't do what she wanted. What a nice thing to carry in his mind!

And there was no satisfaction too, like there couldn't be any satisfaction in knowing that she ran away from him because he wasn't enough. Because whatever he could offer, even if it was the best of what he had, was not good enough for her. How bad could it possibly be that she preferred to become a vampire instead of being with him? Was their life together such a nightmare?

So, she set him on the journey, whether she wanted it or not. But now it looked like that instead of moving forward, he took the wrong turn, drove off the highway and straight into the desert, apparently with his eyes closed, got lost, fell off the cliff, nearly drowned a time or two and had no clue where he was and where to go next anymore. Or at least that was how it felt.

He didn't have it planned and he didn't see it coming and he didn't know what to do with all of that now or where to go. And then all of a sudden the world was bright and new before him when he expected it least, chances to take, decisions to make. And Alaric found himself scared. And on top of all of that, he surely didn't see himself getting involved with someone else like that, too. Not that soon anyway. He didn't plan it and maybe didn't even want it. What if it was the wrong turn as well? What if at some point Jenna was going to realize that he was not good enough for her either?

Taking this step was a huge thing, like falling backwards with his eyes closed and trusting her to catch him. Was he actually ready for it? Was caring enough for anything between them to work?

And then there was Isobel. And everything was easy and simple here, as easy and simple as it could possibly be. He knew her his entire life. At some point he even believed that he knew her as well as he knew himself….

"Okay, I get it now," somehow, Damon's voice made it to his ears, and Ric turned to him a little confused by thick annoyance in it richly coated with irony. "It's your sanity you're mourning here. Fine, go ahead! I bet you're going to really miss it."

"What are you-" he started and then trailed off when he realized that he could have said something without noticing it, and wondered what exactly he let slip. "She was the one who left." His voice was dull and void of any emotions.

"Even after you did everything to stop her? Now that's unbelievable!"

"It was her choice, Damon."

"You are an idiot, aren't you?" It was more than a statement than a question as Damon huffed soundly. He finished his drink in one big gulp and put the glass down on the counter with more force that required. Regarded Alaric darkly as if wondering if he actually was mentally incompetent, and then shook his head in disbelief.

"Oh well," Ric mumbled dryly letting his lips twist into a crooked sorry-but-that's-all-I-can-offer half-smirk.

"Some people never learn, you know? Isobel is a selfish manipulative bitch who is using you… for something I can't quite see yet. And you are-" He cut off suddenly. "Not that I care." Slid off the stool. "Just keep the drama out of the way, would you?" He looked back and scanned the bar, the returned his attention to Alaric again. "Come on, let's hunt something dark and evil. You need some air."

Alaric regarded him suspiciously, considering. "But—wouldn't hunting something dark and evil be like a suicide for you?"

"Two points in just one night! Wow! You're making progress!" Damon snorted. "Whatever. Sit here and feel sorry for your lost soul. But don't tell me I didn't warn you when the situation bites you in the ass once again."

"Isobel is not Katherine," Alaric said quietly.

Damon smirked. "Yeah, keep believing that."

And on that he was gone.

Ric turned to his drink but somehow the idea of finishing it suddenly was sickening. So he pushed it away, left a few bills on the counter and followed Damon who was nowhere to be seen by this moment outside, his head spinning slightly from alcohol and constant noise all around.

Well, Isobel seemed to be right about one thing after all and he had to give her that. The choice was simple and obvious. Weird that it took him so long to make it.


Jenna woke up in the middle of the night lying on top of her bed, dressed and covered with a checked plaid. She couldn't remember how she got there and her head pounded slightly and her eyes were thick and sandy from crying hours ago.

Elena must have taken care of her, she thought absently. Then rolled on her back and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyelids willing with all her might for the throbbing to stop. It didn't help much though. Each of her breaths was echoing painfully in her head that seemed to grow, like, twice and was just too big and too heavy for her to live with it.

Headache or not, at least you woke up in your own bed and not in Texas, Jenna reminded herself sourly and thought that she might as well go to find some Aspirin downstairs before her head actually exploded. It was getting hard to feel miserable and desperate when she couldn't even think properly, and she was fully intended to enjoy every moment of it with all possible side-effects from storing gallons of ice-cream to giving up on her life, again. Secretly, of course. The last thing she needed was worried Is she okay? looks from Jeremy and Elena accompanied by fake encouraging smiles. Not when they had plenty of other reasons to feel sorry for her.

She kicked her covers off and turned on the lamp squinting her eyes when the light hit them and drilled a hope in her skull, and it was then that her phone started to ring. She reached blindly for it, too tired and distracted to think about who it could be at the time of the night. And not really caring either.

"Yes?" Jenna breathed out into the receiver pinching the bridge of her nose. Crying's a bitch.

"You should have stayed away from him," a voice on the other end of the line told her.

It was quite and somewhat dead, like a hiss but completely emotionless, and it gave her creeps and made her blood run cold as she stilled in her spot going completely rigid. Her breath hitched and her heart fell as all of her inside twisted in a knot, and she swallowed hard unable to form any sort of an answer. Unable to form any sort of a coherent thought.

"Who—who is it?" She forced out. "Hello?"

When the answer didn't come, she looked at the screen where the timer stopped at eleven seconds and then threw the phone aside as if it could hurt her somehow. It landed on the end of the bed and she watched it warily for a while.

"That's not funny," Jenna breathed out feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. It was a joke. Yeah, just a joke. Or a mistake. There were a lot of freaks who liked doing things like that after some horror movies marathon, or just because… just because they were sick. Either way, it had nothing to do with her.

Aspirin. Right.

Her phone beeped announcing arrival of a text message and stopping Jenna short. She reached for it slowly as if it could actually bite her or something. Her hand hovered over it for a moment before picking it up and her fingers trembled when she pressed Read.

The message was short. "Tick-tock."

To be continued….


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