author's notes: well, it's been a while hasn't it? school has been keeping me so busy with presentations and papers, and the holidays are no different (students over here take their exams right after the holidays - it's very cruel) hope you still manage to follow/enjoy this series, i am very determined to finish it! i was so excited to see a vampire appear on the show that could compel other vampires :) even though my mythology is somewhat different, it's still nice to see! i hope you all like this new chapter!

setting: right after 1x14, goes AU from there.

disclaimer: fic•tion [fíksh'n]: literary works of imagination

MALUM DISCORDIAE

chapter 18: quid pro quo

Alaric halts abruptly in the hallway. The house he enters doesn't feel like the same one he left last night. Last night, there had been so much going on, what with Stefan and Damon worried about Amelia, Stefan finding out about what Damon had done to Jeremy; the tension and anger between all three of them had twisted and raged like a firestorm, and now – now the house is devoid of everything. It's dead silent. He takes a few steps further inside, looks from his left to his right, and frowns. Where is everyone? Suddenly Alaric grows fearful: has Amelia made it home at all? Does Damon know he left Amelia in the town hall to fend for herself? Should he be here if that's the case?

He's made it as far as the living room when he feels someone pass him; Damon is by his side before his eyes can register the movement. "Hello, Rick," Damon says, his face a few inches from his own. "How nice of you to join us." Alaric doesn't know what to make of Damon's familiarity; is he feeling angry? Disappointed? Betrayed? It's so hard to discern between Damon's moods. "Where have you been?" Damon's eyes go mockingly wide, and he waits for Alaric to answer.

There's another rush of air from downstairs, and before he knows it Amelia has joined them in the living room. "Amelia," Alaric sighs, releasing the breath he's been holding. "Are you alright?"

"Any reason why she shouldn't be?" Damon asks, glancing at Amelia over his shoulder. She told him, Alaric thinks, but decides it's best he makes no further comments on the matter. He doesn't owe Damon anything, or Amelia for that matter. Why should he care? But there's a tinge of guilt that touches his heart as soon as he realizes he's the one to blame for Jeremy's death. None of this would have happened if he hadn't been so blinded by getting his revenge.

"Damon," Amelia warns, and it's enough to keep Damon quiet. Something has changed between them, Alaric notes, and he can't help but wonder what happened between last night and now to bring about this drastic change. Amelia makes her way to him slowly; he doesn't detect even the slightest sign of injury anymore. It's remarkable what a few gallons of blood can mean to a vampire. But he knows Amelia is something new entirely. A new kind of monster. "Thank you for what you did," Amelia says, only just catching how Damon rolls his eyes before backing away.

"What is he doing here?" a voice sounds from the other side of the room. Amelia and Damon turn, and Alaric stares straight into Elena's eyes. She's almost shivering with anger, her hands balled into fists by her sides.

"Elena…" Stefan joins her in the room, but he knows there's little he can do to stop Elena at this point. He doesn't know what Alaric's part in all this is – Damon had told him Alaric tried to kill him in the woods, that he'd led Jeremy there, and if that was true, Alaric really had this coming. He'd trusted him to get Amelia back for them, but that was because his allegiance had been convenient. Now, he's not sure what to think. Why hadn't Alaric been the one to bring Amelia home?

"What is he doing here?" Elena repeats, teeth clenched together tightly, her question directed at no one in particular. Her eyes burn into Alaric. "My brother is dead," Elena says, despite knowing that Amelia would prefer another term. But it is still too much for her to accept. Jeremy can't become a vampire, he can't die, he can't become the darkness Damon has infected her life with.

"What?" Alaric asks, and looks at Amelia. He shakes his head, but can't say it. He knows why Elena is angry with him. "I thought…" Alaric hesitates.

"He's transitioning," Amelia says calmly. Damon re-enters the room holding a glass a scotch.

"And that's your fault!" Elena shoots forward towards Alaric. Hadn't Damon said Alaric led her brother into the woods to kill Amelia and him? Stefan catches her around the waist to hold her back. "You brought him into those woods!" Alaric is just as much to blame; Jeremy has no place in this nightmare world, a world that's been tearing her up inside, mangling her heart into something soon to become completely unrecognizable.

"He thought you were a vampire," Alaric argues, but he can't bring himself to raise his voice. He can feel Amelia's eyes on him, because she'd told him about Katherine, about how she was Elena's doppelganger and had fooled Jeremy into thinking his sister had been turned into a vampire. The only reason he himself had been there was for Damon, to get his revenge for what Damon did to Isobel. Jeremy's anger had been an excuse. It was his fault.

But Elena doesn't know any of that. All she knows is that her brother was fighting to protect her. Her anger towards Alaric is justified, but not Amelia nor Alaric confirms it. Alaric thinks that in some twisted way, Amelia might think she owes him one.

Elena crosses her arms over her chest when Stefan lets her go. She looks up at him, but casts down her eyes. She knows that she tells herself that all her anger is directed at Damon, but part of her realizes all too well that Stefan carries the same darkness inside of him. At the same time, she hates that Stefan can probably guess what she's thinking. Stefan hugs her tightly, and kisses her hair, before she goes down to the basement again to see her brother. Bonnie follows her closely.

"Thank you for not saying anything," Alaric says, hating this feeling of owing her this time, but Amelia doesn't even look at him again. Instead, she makes her way out of the living room, leaving Damon and Alaric alone. Damon sees his brother following her outside to the terrace.

"You didn't deserve that," Damon says, taking a few steps towards Alaric, but doesn't look at him. He's well aware that he's leaving himself open for further heartbreak, to hear it from Alaric rather than anyone else, to hear it from a man he took so much from as well. But maybe that's exactly what he deserves after everything that's happened. He's the one that owes Alaric, for freeing Amelia despite his blinding hatred for him, for giving him back what he thought he'd lost, something he could never grant Alaric in return. Who knows where Isobel is.

"You don't deserve her," Alaric retorts, and leaves the room in silence. He still hasn't decided what he's going to tell Amelia about his conversation with Johnathan Gilbert and Isobel. Right now, he thinks it's best to let things cool down a bit first.

Damon is left alone in the living room. He smiles to himself, even though it hurts. No, he thinks, he doesn't deserve Amelia.

"Are you okay?" Bonnie asks when Elena and her reach the bottom of the small staircase leading to the basement. Elena has her arms wrapped around herself, and seems to be shivering. Bonnie can't tell whether she's still angry, or just cold. She thinks it's probably a bit of both. "I'll go make you some tea," she says, and sees Elena nodding hesitantly. She hates to see her friend go through this again, having to deal with death and loss and everything that comes with that. Meeting Stefan is one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to Elena.

Elena is grateful for Bonnie being there for her; in so many ways Bonnie understands her without her having to say anything. That matters more than anything right now. She doesn't know what she's feeling, there are so many emotions taking hold of her at once and it's so difficult to make sense of any of them. Most of all she's afraid. Afraid of watching her brother making a horrible choice, of watching him die, of seeing him become exactly what Damon is. But most of all she's afraid that her hate will consume her, will take her over and leave her blaming Stefan for all of this as well. After all, he's a vampire too.

Her hands tremble around the handle of the cell door when she opens it. Jeremy is still huddled up in the corner of the room, legs drawn up against his chest, head resting on his knees. "What do you want?" Jeremy mumbles, his tone hard.

"I—I'm just making sure you're alright," Elena answers.

"I'm turning into a monster, Elena," Jeremy answers, too calm. He raises his head and looks at her. There are dark circles around his eyes, and it almost punches a hole right through her chest. She can't watch her brother do this; he'll be dying no matter what. "How could you not tell me about any of this?" Jeremy asks, accusation laced into his words. "What other secrets have you been keeping?"

Elena feels her eyes filling up with tears. "I was only trying to keep you safe," she says, shaking her head. Jeremy stretches out his legs, and gets up from the ground; it takes a great deal of effort. Elena knows he must be in a great deal of pain; Stefan explained how his body will be pushing him to feed.

"Yeah, because that worked out fine."

"Jeremy..."

"How do I choose, Elena?" Jeremy asks, closing the distance between them fast. He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her, not knowing his own strength. "Can you tell me that?" His fingers dig into Elena's skin.

"Jeremy, you're hurting me," Elena cries.

"Can you protect me from that, Elena?" Jeremy shouts, backing her up against the wall, almost slamming her into it, but Damon is in the room with them before Jeremy manages to wound her. Damon grabs Jeremy by the shoulder, and pushes him back further into the room. Then he takes hold of one of Elena's arms and drags her out of the room.

"Let go of me," Elena sneers, yanking her arm out of Damon's hand violently. Damon lets her go, and remains silent while he closes the cell door again. "No," Elena complains, but doesn't do much to stop Damon in what he's doing. Tears are streaming down her cheeks when she goes to check on Jeremy, watching him through the bars on the door, but her brother doesn't acknowledge her presence again. Then, suddenly, she turns around and looks at Damon. "Why did you choose to die?" she asks.

Damon is startled by the question, but he doesn't allow it to show. He thinks Amelia or Stefan must have told her. "I thought I had nothing left to live for," he answers, and he knows it's one of the deepest truths he's ever spoken. "And I didn't want to be a monster."

"Not without Katherine, you mean," Elena interjects, and he knows he deserves it even more from Elena than he does from Alaric. "Because you are a monster, Damon."

He doesn't apologize, not because it's not in his nature, or because he's incapable of it, but it isn't enough. Words are not enough. "Jeremy doesn't have to become that," Damon says, even though he's not wholly convinced of what he says. But he can give Elena this one thing. "He can be like—"

"Stefan?" Elena interrupts, crying. "How is that better? He'll still be dead!" she shouts, and closes the distance between them. She hits him in the chest with her fists. "How could you do that to me, Damon?" She hits him again, and Damon takes it, easily. "How could you do that to me?" Elena exasperates, her fists coming to rest on his chest now, forehead resting on them.

Damon puts an arm around her, and lets her cry, but he doesn't apologize. Words are not enough.

He doesn't really want to do this. Not because he's incapable of it; his brother was the one incapable of remorse or guilt, but because it's proving he was wrong, which he knows he wasn't. But this is how it always goes, the way it has to be, because he owes Amelia so very much, because she gave him everything and perhaps even made him into the man he is today. A man capable of love, of guilt. A man capable of apologizing for the sake of someone else's soul. "Mel," he says, and joins Amelia outside on the terrace. The scene reminds him of that one time in 1889 when he ran into her in Paris.

Amelia turns to face him, leaning back against the stone balustrade. "I'm sorry about earlier," he says, hands in pockets. "I didn't mean—" He shakes his head but when he glances at Amelia again she's looking at him in question. She reads him too well. "Okay, maybe I did." Stefan casts down his eyes. Part of him is angry at himself for not being able to give Amelia this little thing, another part of him knows Amelia expects nothing like that from him. "But it was Katherine," he says, looking back up at Amelia. "She's the one who changed him."

Amelia smiles weakly, and turns again, looking out over the garden. "That's not why he killed Jeremy."

Stefan smiles to himself, even though it's a strange thing to do given the brevity of their conversation. "No," Stefan sighs, and moves to stand beside Amelia. "He did that for you." He can feel Amelia's eyes on him. He's never thought his brother deserving of love, even less after everything that's happened these past few days. And yet something in him had him convinced that Damon's love for Amelia ran deeper than anything else had before. "How long have you known?" Stefan asks, not knowing who he's actually asking it about.

"I think the real question is how long has Damon known it himself," Amelia answers calmly. She's always known she loves Damon, known it at the deepest core of her, but after all the lives she's lived it seemed like a strange thing to be granted by fate yet again. She looks at Stefan, and frowns when she sees a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You're pleased," Amelia says, uncomprehending.

"Amused," Stefan corrects.

"Amused?"

He folds his hands together and leans his arms down on the cold stone. "At how complicated the both of you manage to make things."

Amelia laughs, and copies his posture. "Not everyone can live the picture perfect life of Stefan Salvatore," she says, mocking. He knows that while his words from earlier haven't been forgotten, and perhaps never will be, Amelia has forgiven him. Even more than before, he wonders about all the things she's seen in her almost two thousand year existence. He knows those years define her, have left their mark and have made her into this person she is today. So much about her makes sense now.

Suddenly, the sound of a window breaking catches their attention.

Amelia and Stefan look back at the house, and are walking without either of them having to say a word. Once inside, the silence returns to the house. "What was that?" Elena asks, emerging from the basement with Bonnie and Damon in tow, and looks down when she hears glass cracking underneath her feet. One of the windows in the living room has been smashed in, the glass spread all across the carpet.

"Who did that?" Bonnie asks, and looks around the room. Amelia, Stefan and Damon are scanning the room for what could have broken the window, but nothing seems to have been tossed inside. Alaric, also joining them in the living room, is vigilant as well.

"Mel?" Damon asks, and looks at Amelia, but stays within Elena's and Bonnie's vicinities.

"We're not alone," Amelia says, and moves to the centre of the room. She can smell other vampires in the house, but she can't tell exactly how many. As if on cue, a vampire appears behind Bonnie, another behind Alaric, so fast Amelia, Damon nor Stefan can react to it. The female directly behind Bonnie grabs her around the throat, the other one doing the same thing with Alaric.

"Bonnie!" Elena shouts, but Damon grabs her by the arm and drags her behind him. Stefan is by Elena's side fast, both him, Damon and Amelia in a circle in the middle of the room now, all three of them back to back, Elena in the centre.

"Salvatore," the vampire holding Alaric says, and he doesn't take his eyes off Stefan or Damon.

"You know them?" Amelia asks, looking at the man intently, at how his arm is tangled around Alaric's neck, ready to snap it at any moment. She knows that if it comes down to a fight, the three of them are no match for the two other vampires, even though they're probably older than Damon and Stefan.

"Frederick and Beth-Anne," Damon answers, because he recognises them immediately. Damon doubts Stefan ever knew they were vampires, let alone know their names. "They were in the tomb."

"Because of your father," Beth-Anne answers, her eyes growing dark. "We have a score to settle."

On instinct, Damon takes a step towards Bonnie, but Beth-Anne reacts too, tightening her grip around her victim. Bonnie wails, and Damon freezes on the spot.

"No funny business, you hear me?" Frederick says. "Or we kill them."

"Oh please," Damon says, and rolls his eyes. He's hoping Amelia understands there is no other way out of this but by fighting. But he can't exactly tell her that in so many words. "You're here to kill us, and we're supposed to believe you're going to let these two go if we behave?"

"Bonnie," Amelia says. "A hand?" she asks, and hopes that Bonnie isn't too incapacitated to use her magic on Beth-Anne. Damon and Stefan can take care of him; she'll take care of Frederick.

"But—" Bonnie mutters.

"Trust me," Amelia adds, and braces herself.

Next thing, all hell breaks loose. Bonnie closes her eyes and focuses her magic on Beth-Anne, who starts screaming immediately and grabs for her head. Bonnie falls to the ground when Damon and Stefan rush towards Beth-Anne. Elena runs over to help Bonnie up. Damon forces Beth-Anne to the ground while Stefan breaks a leg of a nearby chair.

Frederick is spooked by the whole thing, and snaps Alaric's neck. Alaric falls limply to the floor, but was apparently armed with his high-pressure toy gun, because before Amelia knows what's going on, Frederick is aiming the gadget not at her, but at Elena. Katherine, Amelia thinks, Katherine must be behind this.

Stefan forces the stake through Beth-Anne's chest just as Frederick fires the gun. "ELENA!" Stefan shouts when he sees what's happening, but the stake's already rushing towards Elena, and Stefan can't get to her in time. Amelia's just reached Frederick, too late to stop the stake mid-air, but just in time to see Damon position himself between the stake and Elena, just like she had thrown herself between a stake and Damon's body back in the forest. "DAMON!" Amelia shouts, and watches him go down, a stake protruding from his chest. But it feels like something is punched through her chest instead.

An impulse rages inside her; it screams and scratches and burns right through her. She knows what it is, she recognises it all too well, this animalistic instinct, this anger taking hold, pushing her to act out on something so innately human that it cancels out any sort of rational thought. It's all over in a few seconds' time: she catches Frederick while he tries to flee the house, doesn't even blink when he begs for his life. Instead, she grabs his head, tangles her arm around his neck, and rips it clean of its torso. Some people call it exacting vengeance. Most vampires, Damon included, call it love.

"Oh my God," Bonnie exclaims when Amelia tracks back to the living room. By the sheer fortune of luck, the stake in Damon's chest seems to have missed his heart. Amelia releases a breath, and feels tears sting her eyes beyond her control. Why is it Damon that makes her feel so much? "Mr Saltzman. He's dead." Bonnie clasps a hand in front of her mouth and goes to her knees next to Alaric.

"He'll be fine," Amelia says, walking over to Damon. She knows Alaric is still wearing his Gilbert ring; he won't stay dead for long. Amelia goes to her knees next to Damon, who's sitting up uncomfortably.

"Are you okay?" Stefan asks, once again rushing to Elena's side, but she's more spooked than hurt.

"Close call," Damon says, breathing through his pain, and looks down at the stake in his chest. An inch more to the right and he'd be dead. He can't help but think it would have been a sacrifice worth taking.

"Sit still," Amelia sneers. She's fighting back her tears still, and it doesn't help that Damon seems like he could have accepted dying for Elena. Damn him, Amelia thinks, damn Damon for making her feel all this, for forcing her to feel rather than just shut everything out. She's never felt guilt or remorse the way that Stefan does, but if Damon had died today she'd have felt things that left her centuries ago. Amelia takes a breath and grabs hold of the stake tightly. She removes it in one hard pull, not even bothering to be gentle.

"Ouch," Damon complains, and is hoping that Amelia will help him up. Instead, Amelia stands up without granting him another look, leaves the room and disappears upstairs in her room. He frowns to himself, wondering what he did to upset her, but the answer isn't too far off. Why can't she just tell him, he thinks, why can't she admit to her true feelings for him, if they are there to begin with. He stands up with moderate ease, his wound already healing.

He looks at his brother, hugging Elena. Stefan looks back at him, his brother's eyes spelling out a thank you he knows he hasn't earned. He casts down his eyes. "Go," Stefan suddenly says, and he's forced to look at his brother again. "Go after her," Stefan adds, because he finally sees, this invisible new bond between Damon and Amelia. Perhaps it had always been there, or both had known of its existence but had never allowed themselves to feel its presence. None of that mattered now. Not anymore.

Damon gives his brother one stern nod, and takes off after Amelia. He doesn't want to ask her again, not really, he doesn't want to force the words out of her, those three simple words he had once found with great ease for Katherine. All of that is different with Amelia; there is so much history between them, good and bad, and so much history for her that came before him. He wonders if she's ever turned another lover. But then, he never started out being that for her.

"Mel," he says when he enters her room. Amelia is standing in front of the window, staring out in front of her. No, he can't ask it of her again, he thinks, not now that he knows how old she is. Words are not enough, and what could three simple words mean to her now, when she's probably said them to countless of men, and heard them from countless more.

"You could have been killed," Amelia says, arms crossed over her chest. She doesn't turn around.

"Better me than Elena."

Amelia draws in a short breath and shakes her head. Damon thinks he can hear her tears. She hangs her head, and then he hears her crying. Not the right words at all. You could have been killed is not what she meant, those were the words meant to disguise a deeper meaning. Perhaps what she really meant to say was she could have watched him die, and he for himself knows how that feels. She could have seen that stake pierce right down through his heart the way he had seen another pierce down to hers not all that long ago. Perhaps she's saying something else entirely.

"Mel," he says again, and moves closer. He puts his arms around her, much like he had done earlier today when she'd just gotten out of the shower. "Tell me," he says, begs, because he's always been the straightforward kind, and doesn't like these riddles between them. "Please just— tell me."

Amelia turns in his arms, and looks up at him. There are trails of tears all over her cheeks, yet somehow he's never found her more beautiful than right now. What has she done to him? What can't she make him feel, even without using any words. "You're everything, Damon," Amelia whispers, and it's everything he's ever needed to hear. "You're everything to me."

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