author's notes: i've been so busy, you guys, so sorry for this belated update! (for some reason i've also decided to write a Smallville and Criminal Minds OC fic, hu) HUGE thank you to everyone that left me reviews on the last chapter of this story! i'm glad my prolonged absence hasn't deterred anyone from reading/commenting :) i hope you all enjoy the new chapter!
setting: right after 1x14, goes AU from there.
disclaimer: fic•tion [fíksh'n]: literary works of imagination
MALUM DISCORDIAE
chapter 19: change of plans
It's a warm summer day, and the sunlight filters in through the curtains, the tattoo on Amelia's back illuminating as if tiny sapphire stones have been laid in on her skin. Damon stares at the lines intently, almost as if he's trying to decipher their meaning independent of their context. He slides closer to her in the bed, his bare chest connecting with her naked body, his hand creeping around her waistline where the sheets have pooled together. "Hmm," Amelia hums, and Damon swears he can see the sunlight refracting from her dark-red hair.
"What are you thinking about?" Damon asks softly, because he's always wondered what she dreams about, what imaginary scenarios she sets up for herself and others, and him. That desire has only doubled after finding out how old she is. Does she dream about her family? About her husband? Does he dream about being human, like he does?
Amelia smiles, her eyes still closed, and feels Damon's arm sliding higher up her torso, circling around her body in a tight but loving hug. "Rio," she answers. Rio wasn't anything like this. It had been a night just as passionate and surrendering as last night, and it had been a way for her to connect to Damon in a way she had always wanted to. She'd given herself over to him, to his touch, his desire for her and her body, and she'd never felt more alive. Damon always had a way of making her feel less animal and more human. Strangely so.
"Open your eyes," Damon whispers into her ear, and kisses her shoulder. It's surprisingly easy to do this for her now, to wander inside her dreams; he wonders if she's willingly granted him access into her subconscious, or if he's just gotten really good at this.
When Amelia opens her eyes, they're in that motel room again, a poorly air-conditioned Rio room, water dripping down the walls where the roof is leaking, sounds of traffic and passers-by invading their little oasis-for-one-night. "Very crafty, Mr Salvatore," Amelia smiles, and turns in his arms. He remembers thinking, back in 1912, just how beautiful she was, and still is, now, and how that's something that will never change. It was the first night he'd spend with a woman other than Katherine and not wished she was Katherine. Amelia always had this way of making him forget his past. Ironically so.
Damon looks down at Amelia, and she pulls him closer, their lips crashing together violently. His tongue slips past her teeth and moulds against Amelia's; he sucks at her bottom lip hard, until they're both out of breath and have to release each other's lips. "What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?" Amelia whispers against his skin.
Damon smiles at her mischievously, and she laughs out loud, throwing her head back in the pillow. "You really wanna know?" Damon raises an eyebrow, and grabs the bed covers, pulling them up over them both.
Amelia only just manages to suppress a shriek when she feels Damon's tongue hot near her bellybutton.
The house has never felt so strange; it's like the whole structure has become one holding area for multiple contradictory emplacements. He woke up this morning outside of Jeremy's cell, hearing Amelia and Damon laughing upstairs. Elena had looked at him, yet she hadn't said a word. Her eyes told him enough. How could Damon be happy? How did he deserve happiness at a time like this? Any moment now Jeremy would be making his choice, death or immortality, and Damon – and to an extent Amelia – was responsible for landing him in this situation. How could he even risk the laughter right now?
Another part of him has already decided to rejoice against his will. This might be a turning-point for Damon. He had once feared that it would be his reunion with Katherine, and that it would make his brother worse than ever. But if Damon can built a life with Amelia, his brother might yet fall in his good graces one day. Maybe.
Right now he can hear Amelia and Damon moving around in their own rooms, and the noises make him curious. "What are you doing?" Stefan asks the moment he walks into Damon's room. Damon's got all his suitcases out, and he's packing up all his things. By the sound of it, Amelia is doing the exact same thing in her room.
"What does it look like I'm doing, little brother?" Damon asks, halting in the centre of the room to look at him. Stefan frowns, trying to make sense of this. Damon is running away? What happened to following Amelia's rules, taking responsibility for what he had done to Jeremy, carrying the guilt that was rightfully his to haul around? "I thought you'd be happy," Damon adds, going back to his packing. "Finally getting rid of me."
"Hap—" Stefan swallows the rest of the word. In any other situation, yes, he would be happy to see Damon leave. "Does Amelia know you're doing this?" he asks. All Damon does in response is turn his head to look at him, stacking his collection of black shirts into his suitcase. Stefan realises exactly what's going on. "It was her idea," he says, angry suddenly. He turns and rushes to Amelia's room. "What is this?" he asks strongly. "You're just going to run? Again?" he asks, because he knows Amelia has tried to leave this town twice already. The first time because she couldn't bear the sight of Katherine and Damon reunited, the second time she'd tried to convince him and his brother to leave Mystic Falls with her, before the tomb vampires wreaked their havoc on the town. She'd been stopped from leaving twice.
"It's not safe for us here, Stefan," Amelia says, rearranging some clothes in her bags; she'd already packed the first time. "They know too much about us."
"What about Jeremy?" Stefan asks, trying so very hard not to call her out on this, tell her what a hypocrite she's being for leaving Jeremy behind. They were her rules, and they had become his rules over the years, and he'd seen in the past that breaking them could have ugly consequences. How can she do this? How can she be so calm? How can she be so callous? "You're just going to leave him behind?"
"If he chooses immortality we'll be back for him," Amelia answers. We, Stefan notes the use of the term, suddenly Damon and Amelia are a we now. Does her love for Damon run so deeply? Had he always mistaken it for something more trivial, more fleeting, more transitory? But no, Stefan thinks, she can't just do this, she can't leave this town behind her when the only one who might be able to save people is Amelia herself. How can she even think about leaving?
"You selfish—" he stops himself from saying it, but balls his hands into fists by his sides. "What happened to protecting your family?" he asks loudly. "Or don't I count anymore now that you and Damon have found each other, mom?" he uses the word only to make her angry, to elicit some reaction other than this taciturn attitude she's decided to adopt all of a sudden. When it comes to her family – and that's him and Damon now – Amelia has always felt strongly, stronger than he has ever felt it before, even in his human life. Amelia's love for those close to her is stronger than his love for Elena, than Damon's love for Amelia, simply because it is so old, and therefore more intense. That's what it means to be a vampire.
He can tell his words have stirred something in Amelia; she's stopped packing, and looks directly at him. "If I knew there was a way to convince you to come with us, Stefan—" she says, and Stefan understands; she still wants him to come with them, to protect him from what's coming. But then there's that term again, one inclusive of Damon, us, and he just can't accept this decision. Damon joins them in the room. "Never doubt my caring for you," Amelia stresses, as if that wasn't the very thing he was questioning. If she cares so much, why can't she help them fight? "And never underestimate my understanding," her voice takes on a more serious tone, but it only makes him angrier.
"Then don't take me for a fool, Amelia," Stefan sneers, taking a step closer to her. Behind him, Damon wonders exactly what his brother is talking about. What is he accusing Amelia of this time? "Frederick and Beth-Anne," Stefan says, "they weren't here for us. They were here to kill Elena."
"What?" Damon huffs, and moves to stand closer to Amelia and Stefan. "Don't be ridiculous," he says, but something is already starting to fall into place at the back of his mind. "Why would they—?" And then it hits him. Who else would send others to do her dirty work? "Katherine," he whispers. "Katherine's behind this?" And Amelia knew? She must have been really serious about leaving town, otherwise she'd have told him.
"You know her better than that, Damon," Stefan says, looking at him strongly. His preoccupation with Amelia must have him really blind if Damon hadn't realised this. When has Katherine ever let anything go? When has she ever been unprepared? She came to this house to get Damon and him back, and when that failed, she probably had about a dozen other plans to fall back on. Like killing Elena. "Did you really think she'd just leave us be?" he asks, and shakes his head.
Damon takes a few moments to think about it, and realises, no, of course Katherine wouldn't accept defeat. When she wanted something she latched on until it was hers. Part of him understands why Amelia didn't tell him, it's another painful punch to his already guilt-ridden conscience, and there's only so much hurt a man can take. But he'd preferred to hear it from Amelia.
"There are over a dozen vampires out there ready to attack this town," Amelia interjects, hoping to make both Stefan and Damon understand why she's leaving, why she has to leave, why she needs Damon to come with her. Last time she suggested they leave town Stefan had convinced her to stay to protect Mystic Falls. She died that night. "We can't take them all," Amelia adds. There are only three of them. "What do you expect us to do, Stefan?"
"I expect you to fight!" Stefan almost shouts. "Like you've done before! Like you've done time and time again!" Amelia casts down her eyes. It's true, time and time again she's fought to protect her family, regardless of what happened to her. But this town, it's done things to her. It did so a hundred and fifty years ago by giving her Damon, and it's still affecting her now. There's no place for their kind in Mystic Falls. Not a safe one. "Amelia, please!" Stefan begs when he sees Amelia averting her eyes. "If not you, then—"
Amelia's head snaps up and she looks at him. "Then who, Stefan? Wh—" Amelia asks and shakes her head. How can she tell him this? Why can't Stefan see this?
"You can't die!" Stefan shouts.
Damon uncrosses his arms, but remains silent. He's never seen Stefan and Amelia fight like this, especially not about the same thing. They're both just trying to look out for the people they love.
"But I feel, Stefan!" Amelia says strongly, and takes a step closer to Stefan. "I've been here for one week and I've almost had to watch you die. I've almost watched Damon die three times! I've died! I'm not—" Amelia shakes her head, her eyes tearing up. Damon knows what she's trying to say. She's not nearly as heartless as she believes herself to be. "It is too dangerous for us here."
Stefan falls silent; he'd always believed Amelia wasn't without her feelings but to hear her say it, to see her display such emotions right in front of him is more than he'd ever dreamed about. Maybe it was true, this town has done things to her. It's done things to all of them.
Amelia walks out of the room, and Damon follows close in her tracks. "You don't owe him anything," Damon says, and it isn't the first time he's thought about how Stefan has nothing to do with this, not with what they share. It was Katherine who turned Stefan, and Amelia only took him under her wing because Stefan was his brother. Maybe, yes, he'd always shared her with Stefan, but his brother and Amelia don't share this, not their kind of love.
"Is everything alright?" Alaric asks when Amelia reaches the bottom of the stairs, Damon halting one step behind her. Stefan's and Amelia's shouting had even brought Elena and Bonnie up from the basement; neither of them have ever heard Stefan or Amelia shout like that.
"We're leaving town," Amelia says, and crosses her arms over her chest as if to defend herself, even though it isn't necessary. She needs to say it, she can't stay here. It is too dangerous and the possibility of losing Damon or Stefan paralyses her. Maybe it isn't fair, to the people in this town or even to herself, but it's like Damon said, there's only so much hurt a person can take.
"What?" Elena asks, her voice shaky. "Why? What about the tomb vampires?"
"I should never have gotten involved in that," Amelia answers matter-of-factly.
"You got involved the moment you turned Damon," Stefan says suddenly, standing at the top of the stairs, making his way down slowly. He knows it's one of the biggest lie he's ever told, because it wasn't Amelia who completed Damon's transformation, but he'll resort to lying if that's what it takes to get Amelia to stay.
Now who's the hypocrite, Damon thinks to himself. "You would have rather watched me die, brother?" he asks, vividly remembering that night almost one hundred and fifty years ago now, when his brother shot him, and he shot Stefan. "Again."
"This is something we can't fight," Amelia says calmly, while Stefan joins Elena at her side. "The odds are against us." It doesn't matter how old she is, going up against a dozen vampires fuelled by hatred is suicide.
"What if they weren't?" Alaric says gravely. The focus in the room shifts to him completely.
"Do you know something we don't?" Damon asks.
Alaric takes a deep breath. He hadn't decided where his loyalties were when he walked through the door yesterday, but now he realises Johnathan and Isobel's plan didn't include Stefan or Damon surviving. A few days ago he would have been just fine with that, but now, with Jeremy turning, possibly becoming one of them, with Amelia's strong connection to both Damon and Stefan; he doesn't want to be the one standing in her way. Maybe it's best he sticks to the side he's gotten to know best. "Johnathan Gilbert is planning on using another Gilbert invention," he says, speaking the same words Johnathan and Isobel had used last night. When Johnathan had showed him part of the device, he knew he'd seen it before. "The one Bonnie found in Emily's grimoire. It will incapacitate every vampire within a mile radius. But Pearl has part of the device."
"How the hell do you know that?" Damon asks strongly.
"He told me," Alaric answers, aware that everyone is staring at him. He's not sure how safe he is now that he's told them, but this is the only way he knows how to repent for what happened to Jeremy. That was more his fault than anyone else's. He should never have used Jeremy's grief to exact his own revenge on Damon. "He was hoping—"
"He was hoping you'd turn against us when the time came," Amelia says, almost impressed by Johnathan Gilbert's plan. She's well aware that time might yet come.
"Why are you telling us now?" Stefan frowns.
"Because I don't trust Isobel," Alaric answers.
Elena takes in a hushed breath of air.
"Isobel?" Damon asks, and takes a step closer to Alaric, invading his personal space. Just three days ago the history teacher was ready to kill him over what he did to Isobel, and now he doesn't trust her? "Is there anything else you feel like sharing with us?" Damon asks.
"Why would Isobel want us dead?" Stefan asks. Part of him already knows the answer to that question, but he hasn't been able to verify it yet.
"Because she's Elena's mother," Amelia says. Elena looks at her, and Amelia stares back at her tentatively. Elena doesn't say a word, but her eyes tell Amelia immediately that she takes this information at face value. As the truth. Of course that's why Isobel wants them dead; no matter what, vampire or not, a mother protects her children. Amelia understands that better than anyone.
"What?" Bonnie asks. "How do you know that?" Elena had told her about how she found out she'd been adopted, about Alaric's wife sharing the same name as her birthmother. Are they talking about the same Isobel now? Another vampire? "Amelia, what aren't you telling us?" Bonnie insists, because suddenly Amelia isn't looking at anyone anymore, but seems sunken in thought.
Amelia looks at Elena. "I wasn't going to tell you this. Because it doesn't matter."
"What is it?" Elena asks carefully. Such a big part of her refuses to trust Amelia ever again, after choosing Damon's side, after what happened to Jeremy. But she knows that a whole different part of her wants to see her as the mentor that Stefan believes her to be.
Amelia takes a breath. "I'm your maternal ancestor," she says, still looking at Elena intently.
"What?" Elena asks. She knows what it means, she studied it at school, but still her mouth acts out. She wants to hear Amelia say this. "What does that mean?" She looks up at Stefan, but all he has eye for is Amelia, it seems.
"It means a direct line of descent can be traced from me, through my daughters, to your grandmother on your father's side," Amelia explains. "The line stopped there because she only had sons, your father and your uncle. But it still makes both of them my blood."
"And me," Elena says.
"Yes," Amelia smiles weakly. "In a way."
"That's—" Stefan starts, but he swallows the rest of his statement. Something just fell into place, something he'd been wondering about since he met Elena, and now here it is. Amelia has been watching him more closely than he thinks.
"That's why Johnathan Gilbert kept you alive," Alaric says.
Amelia laughs. "Johnathan and I have a very clear understanding," she says. John had found her several years ago, in his own search for Isobel. "He knows I could never kill him without going against my instincts." It's true, she could never kill her own family. "But he won't hesitate to kill me once I give him what he wants."
"And are you?" Stefan asks carefully.
Amelia looks at Stefan tentatively, but feels something inside her falter. With this device they could have the upper hand. If they play this right, they could all come out of this alive. "Yes," Amelia concedes, but doesn't look at Damon. She turns to Alaric instead. "Call him," she says, and walks away.
"Mel, you can't seriously be considering this," Damon says, following Amelia to the living room. It's almost the exact same thing he told her last time Stefan had convinced her to stay. He'd believed he lost her minutes later.
"Stefan's right, Damon," Amelia says, even though she doesn't really want to admit it. Maybe in this situation she is the hypocrite, going against her own beliefs like this. Balancing her love for both Stefan and Damon has always been so difficult. "We're both involved. We can put a stop to this once and for all."
"Last time you made that decision you got killed. Remember?" Damon looks at her strongly, his green eyes ablaze. "I feel too, Amelia." He uses her full name, because he doesn't want to talk around this again, not anymore, not now that everything's been said.
"If this device does what it's supposed to, we'll have the advantage," Amelia says, looking up at him, standing close. "We'll help the Council, they'll be rid of the vampires, and we'll get out of this town. We'll never look back." Amelia puts a hand on his chest. He realises he wants that more than anything. He'd come to this town to get Katherine back, but he'll be leaving with something far more precious. "We'll never come back here."
"But after this," he says, and puts his hands on her shoulders.
"After this," Amelia says. "This is something I have to do, Damon. You know that."
He does know that. "Still cleaning up my messes," Damon says softly, absentmindedly brushing her hair back. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close, and kisses her hair. He wants it to be like this forever, this easy, he needs to know that he's earned the right to be happy, or just simply that he's capable of having it and holding on to it. He doesn't know how much more hurt he'll be able to take.
Downstairs, Elena stares at her brother through the bars in the door. "Elena?" Jeremy asks, but doesn't look up. His entire body feels like it's on fire.
"I'm here, Jeremy," she says, but Jeremy doesn't say anything else. She leans her head up against the door, and closes her eyes. She wonders if she should have told Jeremy about everything from the beginning, if this could have been avoided. If Jeremy had known about Katherine, about their resemblance, he never would have been fooled, he wouldn't have been in those woods with Alaric.
When she looks up again, Jeremy is standing directly behind the door. Elena's heart jumps in her chest, and she almost takes a step back, but she forces herself to stay strong. "Let me talk to Amelia," Jeremy begs, dark circles around his eyes. Elena has never seen him this tired.
"Jeremy..." Elena says.
"I don't wanna die, Elena," Jeremy whispers, and grabs hold of one of the bars in the door. He's made his decision. "Please."
Elena stares at her brother hard, trying to discern any shred of doubt, any hesitation, but she can't find any. Her eyes fill up with tears and she feels her lips trembling, but she keeps herself from crying; she needs to be strong for Jeremy now. Elena swallows hard, and reaches for her brother's hand through the bars. He feels cold. "Okay," she chokes out. "I'll go get Amelia."
Her short walk up the steps seems to take forever. It's like time stands still, each next step taking twice as long. Elena can hear her heart beating in her eardrums, louder and louder, her own breathing a distant murmur. So this is it, she thinks, this is the night her brother dies. After losing so much already, she thought it would be harder, but maybe, just maybe, she's accepted the fact that Jeremy could be like Stefan. Maybe she can find herself living with that.
When she reaches the living room, Damon still has his arms around Amelia. Elena stares at them for long moments, and suddenly realises she's happy for them. She doesn't know where it comes from, maybe Stefan's hope that his brother will change for the better has infected her as well. "Amelia," her voice is just above a whisper. Damon and Amelia release each other and look at her. "My brother—" Elena clears her throat. "Jeremy's ready," she says.
"Okay," Amelia says softly, and walks over to her slowly. "You don't have to see this, Elena."
"No, I want to," Elena says, and wipes at her face to get rid of any stray tears. Stefan and Bonnie motion to go with them, but Elena holds up her hand. "No," she says, and looks at Amelia. She looks back at Stefan. "I can do this," she adds, and Stefan nods. He knows this is something between Jeremy and Elena, but she needs Amelia to walk her through it.
She follows Amelia back downstairs slowly. "Will he—" Elena starts, and hugs her arms around herself. "Will he be the same?"
Amelia turns and puts a hand on her shoulder. "He will always be Jeremy," she says. She realises only then that Elena has never seen anyone transforming. Amelia wonders how much Stefan has told her about his human life. "He will always be your brother."
"And the thirst?" Elena asks, grateful that Amelia seems willing to answer every question she has. Normally she'd ask Stefan, and she's not entirely sure why she asks Amelia instead, but she thinks it has much to do with the fact that Amelia has done this before. Sure, she accepts Damon for what he is, a monster, but she's also always accepted Stefan's choices. She finds that comforting.
"Manageable," Amelia answers. She walks over to the freezer and takes out a bag of blood. When she turns to Elena again, her eyes are filled to the brim with concern. She's silent when she opens the cell door, the lock snapping loudly in the wood. The door creaks open, and inside the room Jeremy turns around. "You're sure about this?" Amelia asks, only to hear him say it. No one really chooses death.
Jeremy's eyes are transfixed on the bag of blood in her hands. "Yes," he says, voice laden with thirst.
Amelia looks at Elena over her shoulder; Elena nods, and remains standing in the doorway, just to be safe. Casting down her eyes, Amelia turns to Jeremy again, and goes to her knees next to him. She rips off the plastic tubing, and offers the bag to Jeremy. His whole body shakes at the smell of it. Jeremy looks at Amelia, his eyes desperate. "It's okay," Amelia says softly.
Jeremy hesitates for a single moment longer before he puts the bag to his lips, and then he drinks, greedy and deep.
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