AN: Good news! I ended up having two surprise midterms (well...not really surprise. I just didn't know about them), so I got a lot of time to write after finishing them. I won't lie, I've been a little distracted as I'm a tiny bit obsessed with Godric (True Blood) right now. He melt my heart! Anyways, thanks again to those of you who faithfully review, you're awesome! Happy reading!

Two Weeks Later...

Elena sat in the passenger's seat of the Camaro, her leg bouncing in odd anticipation. Damon never expected to be taking her to final exams (it was something so normal...) but he had to be a stand-in for Stefan, who had disappeared along with Damon's body. As far as the townspeople knew, Stefan was still in school, but was somewhat more lippy and drove his brother's Camaro. Overall, the last two weeks had been fairly uneventful.

Alaric had been in contact with someone whom apparently knew quite a bit about the coven, and who was openly dispelling information. From what the person could tell, the coven had simply vanished. Damon had every intention of meeting the mysterious informant, but he had to weave his way around Alaric first; something that had gotten a lot harder as the days went by. Damon was aging already; he could feel it. He wasn't nearly as strong as before, and his vampiric abilities were slowly eroding away. His compulsion was shaky at best, and his healing was slowing down at a rate that was making him nervous. He had to switch back, and sooner the better.

"You'll be fine, Elena" he said, watching her nervous fidgeting. From what he'd seen over the last week, she hated exams and was very, very scared of them. It was downright funny, really, and he caught himself holding back a laugh.

"What's so funny, Damon?" She demanded, furrowing her brow.

"You're so worried about something so insignificant." He said. "It'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I fail and don't go to college?" She said. "It may be insignificant for you, Mr. Eternal life, but until further notice, I'm still mortal, meaning I still have a fast-approaching future to think about." She huffed, then smiled. "You have exams today too." She said matter-of-factly. "I'll bet you won't do too well on them. You barely cracked a book open!"

"Elena, I lived through the civil war. I think I can handle a history exam." He said.

"Oh? What about math? Biology? It'll be fun to pick through your papers." She said. In truth, he probably wouldn't do to well. He wasn't sure what they were teaching now, but he probably hadn't picked it up while drifting aimlessly around North America. He spent some time studying in Canada, but it had been over a decade ago. What Elena didn't know was that he'd been spending hours every night reading about the coven. He had to find a way to track down the Warlock, and the faster the better.

"We're here, stop your complaining." He said, shaking his head. The action made him nauseous, and Elena gave him a questioning glance.

"Is it getting worse?" She asked, pressing a hand to his cheek. Whenever the switch started giving him problems, his cheeks were warm; something that probably hadn't happened in over a century. Damon had told her about the aging, and she was glad. Knowing about it meant that she could help him in whatever way possible, and it made her feel better.

"Worse is a funny word..." he looked up. "But yes. When I get nauseous, it's worse." Elena looked at him with concern, but knew that there wasn't much she could do outside of giving him blood; a bad idea in a parking lot. She looked at her watch.

"Crap!" she said. "We have to get going! Are you ok to be in the school...?" What he knew she meant was: 'are you ok to be sick and around a hundred people who smell like blood?'.

"I'll be fine." He opened the dash, showing her the bag he'd tossed in with an icepack. "You go ahead, I'll catch up to you in a minute." Elena smiled uncertainly, but knew she had to rush in.

"Hurry, ok?" She didn't like being without him.

"Right behind you."

The town was much smaller than he imagined. It was hard to picture Vampires living in such a place, with so few bodies to choose from, and so much sunlight. Finding vampires was easy in the northern parts of the world, but this far south? They'd have to be sleeping nearly around the clock. The gravel of an aging sidewalk crunched under his feet as he walked, and he smiled as he saw the high school in the distance.

Marla had contacted him just over two weeks ago with a name: Elena Gilbert. After that, he'd gone to her apartment, and he'd gotten an idea of what had happened based on the memories attached to the room. She'd died in there, but he couldn't pick out which vampire had killed her. It didn't matter; if he got the girl, he'd have the vamps, and he'd be able to make his presentation to Klaus.

Marc closed his eyes, beginning to whisper Elena's name under his breath. After a few minutes and hard concentration, he opened his eyes, smiling. He looked ahead into the parking lot and saw her running into the school, panicked.

Damon downed the bag of blood as quickly as possible, black spots dotting his vision. He let Elena know when things like this happened, but he tried to keep how worried he was hidden. He was scared. He slung the empty bag back into the dash of the Camaro before getting out and walking into the school.

The hallways were empty, and he guessed that everyone was piled into exam rooms. He headed down the main hall towards Alaric's history room, where he was supposed to be writing. He stopped, hearing another set of footsteps ahead. He walked around the corner, putting on his best worried student face. He didn't expect who he found: The warlock from the coven. They stared at each other for a second, and Damon watched the man's eyes widen, and he lunged, missing the warlock by a hair.

Damon saw him dart through the doors of the auditorium, and he followed, being met with the blackness of the room. His eyes were definitely not seeing as well as they should have been, and although the room was still brighter than it would have been with human eyes, Damon was having trouble. He cursed as a chair broke on his shin, splintering into a thousand tiny pieces. At least I'm still unbreakable. He thought. He heard the doors on the opposite end of the auditorium, click open, and he darted towards it, slamming into it just as it closed. He was really really hating the switch right now. He pushed the door open, cringing as it smashed into the wall and off its hinges. His strength phased in and out, and it was impossible to tell when he'd be strong or weak.

He stopped, listening for the man's footsteps, and he smiled as he heard them. He shot down a hallway, skidding to a halt at the end and turning, hearing a metallic clang. He heard breathing, and he wasn't sure where from. The small hallway he'd turned onto was liked with tall lockers, all the doors closed. He walked slowly, clicking his tongue.

"You're making some very bad decisions..." he said, grinning in annoyance. "...and all the witchy tricks in the world won't be able to put you back together once I have my body back." He hissed. He heard a shuffle and turned to the locker to his left, baring his fangs. It was odd, but he didn't feel the telltale veins spread around his eyes. "Now, are you coming quietly, or do I get to have a little fun?" he leaned close to the locker, looking through the slots in the top and seeing the eyes of the warlock staring back at him.

"Well well-!" The door smashed open! It caught Damon in the face, wrapping around his head and leaving an imprint, his body unflinching. He could hear the warlock dash out of the small metal lockbox, and he swore, bending the metal back from around his head. It ripped off the hinges, and he whipped it at the man, narrowly missing him, but causing him to fall off balance and skid across the floor. Damon lunged, baring his fangs again. The man held a hand up, a piece of scribbled paper in his palm.

Damon blacked out.

Eyes open. Heavy. Very heavy.

Footsteps, muffled yelps, dragging. He was being moved.

Blackout.

Eyes open, silver; a gun. Dragging, dragging...

Blackout.

"I'm not leaving him!"

"You don't have a choice. In the trunk, or I shoot him. I don't have to tell you what a wooden bullet will do."

Elena, stepping into the trunk of the Camaro.

Hands fishing in pockets.

Keys.

Blackout.