A huge thanks to Grace4Delena for pre-reading this!
Disclaimer: I don't own TVD, even though I'd love to.
Sometimes help can come from the least expected place...in the least expected form…
Jenna redialed Jeremy's number, and brought the phone close to her ear. Like the last fifty times it went straight to voicemail, causing a loud groan to escape her lips. Her arm shot out in frustration, the device luckily landing on the soft cushions of the sofa.
"Shit," Jenna cursed under her breath, running a hand through her already tangled hair. Jeremy should have been home by now, or he should have at least contacted her. True, the first few months with the three of them had been tough. They had all suffered a great loss, and figuring out the new balances, building a new non-traditional type of family had been a huge challenge. They had experienced some really dark times, Jeremy's drug-using period being on the top of the list. But she thought they were making progress. She actually believed that both Elena and Jeremy were having a relatively good life again, and that she was a main contributor to that.
"Who am I kidding?" she wondered aloud in the empty room, her eyes finding her sister's picture on the coffee table. She could never be Miranda. She could never be as good as her at anything. At the end of the day, she was still the immature twenty year old college student, who only had parties and boys in her mind. She wasn't mother material. It wasn't in her.
But for whatever reason, Miranda and Grayson had chosen her as their kids' guardian. So, she owed them to always look out for Jeremy and Elena.
John Gilbert couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise when he entered the house, and saw Jenna hurrying across the living room, and picking up her cell phone from the couch. If his eyes weren't fooling him, her hands were actually shaking.
"What is going on?" he asked warily, and Jenna jumped up in startle.
"Great, just great. This is exactly what I need. You being here to remind me how unfitting I am for this role. As if I don't already know it," she snapped, glaring at him over her shoulder.
The obvious sparkle in her eyes, combined with the eerie silence at the rest of the house, grabbed his attention. Something was wrong.
"Jenna, what are you talking about?" he asked urgently, approaching her with wide steps "Who are you trying to call?"
She knew that he would only use this against her. She knew that she was probably going to regret it soon. But she was scared shitless, and she couldn't handle this alone. Even having the biggest ass of asses by her side would be a relief, a form of help.
"Jeremy has gone missing."
"But we saw him this evening, at the pageant," John attempted to reason with her, before sighing in relief. He was sure that was just a big misunderstanding.
"No one has ever seen him since, though. Nobody knows where he went."
"Did you check with his friends?" he asked, feeling as if he was pointing out the obvious. Surely there was no real danger. This was just Jenna panicking without reason. "Maybe they planned something, and ditched the event without letting anyone know."
"He doesn't have any friends lately other than Anna, the girl I showed you. But she was the first one to notice his absence."
"Well, have you talked to Elena? Maybe she knows," he suggested tiredly.
"She doesn't. And she's at Stefan's, anyway. They are spending the weekend together."
John tried to keep away the images his mind conjured of his daughter with that vampire, and concentrate on the issue of Jeremy.
"I am pretty sure he is just fine, Jenna," he said honestly "he will come home sooner, or later. And if he doesn't, which won't be case, I will call Liz. How does that sound?"
"Not good enough," she grumbled, resuming her previous task of repeatedly calling her nephew's number.
"You won't make him come home with that! He needs some time, trust me. I have been in his age, I know how it is."
"I cannot believe that you are so calm about this!" Jenna exclaimed in bewilderment "Jeremy could be lying dead at the side of the road, and you are talking about him without even blinking!"
"I am being mature and logical, Jenna! Not uncaring!" he shot back.
"Here we go! And I was wondering when we would be back on this topic again!"
"You know what, Jenna? I am not going to do this tonight! I have had an incredibly long day, and arguing with you is the last thing I want to do right now!"
He quickly turned around and walked towards the staircase. Too many things had happened in a time span of twenty hours. He found out his nephew was dating a hundreds years old vampire, then there was that broken mirror and blood in one of the bathrooms of the Mayor's manor, and now his daughter was in the arms of Stefan Salvatore. A vampire. With his own child.
A gasped escaped him, just as he placed his foot on the first step. The separate thoughts in his head suddenly started connecting together, like pieces of a puzzle he never wanted to prove true.
"Jenna!" he yelled, as he once again changed direction and re-entered the living room. "Call Elena."
"But she is with Stefan, I wo…"
"Call her," he repeated a little more forcefully, his eyes widening, and Jenna nodded, unable to refuse when that vein violently throbbed on his forehead.
"It goes to voicemail," she whispered a few moments later "but it's nothing, John. I am sure her battery died, or she simply wanted some privacy."
"Jenna, in all the years you have known Elena, when has she ever turned off her phone?"
"Never."
"Exactly."
"You know, Elena, when I first met you, you looked so innocent. Nothing like Katherine, nothing at all." Stefan said conversationally, grabbing her from the elbow, and all but dragging her towards the old wooden staircase. Elena struggled not to stumble, although in all honestly it proved to be more difficult with every passing second. The events of the day had drained her from practically all of her energy, and her vision was no longer perfectly defined and detailed. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and even focusing on Stefan's words was a hard task to accomplish. "But given your interaction with my brother that I just witnessed… I am starting to believe that you two share more than your looks. Which I will, of course, use to turn this evening into a more exciting than it already is."
She couldn't even find it in her to panic. Everything was fuzzy, nothing seemed to matter anymore. This way or another, she wouldn't make it out of that house alive. Did it really make any difference exactly how her end would come?
When they entered Stefan's spacious bedroom, and he mindlessly shoved her in the direction of his king sized bed, she took the few steps separating her from the furniture representing a God-sent oasis, and sighed in relief when her body touched the soft mattress. Closing her eyes, she took a few calming breaths, and allowed her mind to drift in a calm place where nothing happened, where she could simply exist without having to worry about anything.
Stefan whistled an old tune as he opened the door of his wardrobe, in search of the few items he had purchased at the beginning of that week. He smiled broadly when he spotted the burgundy bag, and gently ran his fingers over the material of the black nightgown. His gaze sifted to Elena's unmoving form on his bed, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. Could this girl get any more boring? Well, admittedly, she had been quite fun to watch so far, with all the shrieks, and the tears, and the tremors going through her body. But he couldn't accept her giving up so soon. He needed to get a reaction out of her, he needed to see her scared, fighting for her life. He needed to drive her to her limits.
He approached her with confident strides, and let the bag fall on the foot of the bed. She looked completely unaware of his presence, no changes in her heartbeat, or breathing. It was frustrating, if he wanted to be honest with himself. But Stefan Salvatore wasn't about to let his food play with him. It was supposed to be the other way around. And it would be.
Elena gasped when she felt strong hands grabbing her legs, and turning her around so that her back was against the bed, and her now wide open eyes staring at the white ceiling. She had been so lost in her daydreaming that she had actually managed to forget about her surroundings, and the unfortunate situation she had found herself in. But when she spotted Stefan towering over her, everything she had witnessed over the last hours came crashing down on her. And when he grabbed the middle of her dress and pulled hard, the thin material tearing up, and leaving her exposed in nothing but her underwear, everything became too real, too soon.
Stefan smirked as he watched Elena screaming in horror, and hurrying to get as far away from him as possible. Her hands gripped the sides of her dress, tugging them closer in an effort to cover up.
"Going somewhere, Elena?" he drawled, climbing on the bed, and crawling towards her side. Her eyes filled with tears as he neared her slowly, giving her the chance to run away. Would she? He wished that she would take the opening; the chase could always make a hunt way more entertaining. Elena's eyes jumped wildly around, as she seemed to consider her options, and the next second she was off the bed.
Tears streamed down the sides of her face for what felt like the hundredth time that day as she skipped across the room in the quickest pace she could master. But her few minutes short rest couldn't have compensated for all the blood she had lost, for all the torture she'd been through. By the time she was halfway across the room, she was already feeling lightheaded, and even though her initial plan was to rush out on the hall, with a disappointed sigh she ducked into Stefan's bathroom. Even as she turned the key on the lock, and leaned her body against the hard surface, she knew she was nowhere near safe. A mere lock would never be able to stop a vampire, especially a determined one like Stefan. And when he pushed against the only barrier between them, causing her already trembling body to shake from the force, she knew that in a matter of seconds he would have his hands on her.
"Elena!" Stefan called from the other side of the door, enjoying himself a little too much "Open the door." He granted her a few seconds to do so, and when nothing happened, he shoved against it again, this time using a little bit of his vampire strength, and leaving a noticeable dent on it. "Elena!" he growled, marveling in the further increase of the rhythm of her heart. "I am breaking down this door, and I don't care if you're standing right behind it, or not."
"One," Elena inhaled deeply through her nose, as she contemplated the situation. Maybe this would be an easier death than whatever Stefan had planned "Two" but was it a certain death? Or would she only manage to be already injured while she would have to suffer in his hands? "I warned you. Three."
Everything happened so quickly, that all Elena could see was a blur of movement. She had tried to leap away from the door as fast as she could, but the stinging pain on the back of her calf told her that it wasn't fast enough. She waited for the dust to settle, before glancing back to access her wound. A rather sizeable piece of wood had thrust into her skin, and a pool of blood was already forming on the marble floor. A sharp intake of breath reminded her of the exact reason why the door had given in. Stefan.
Elena's gaze hesitantly focused on Stefan's impassive one.
"You have no idea how much worse you have made this for yourself," he murmured, lifting her up as if she weighted nothing, and throwing her over his right shoulder.
"Let go of me," Elena fruitlessly whaled, punching his back, even though she knew he could probably barely feel it. "Let go of me."
Stefan ignored her screaming and for the second time tossed her on the bed, face down. Yes, he wanted her to attempt to escape him, but he had never planned to destroy his own home. She was a nasty little bitch that would pay for going against his plan. This time, when she started crawling towards the other side of the bed, he simply reached down and removed the wood from her wound.
Pain shot through Elena's body, making her shiver, and grit her teeth together.
"You brought this on yourself," Stefan said from behind her, and when his teeth sank into her fresh injury, she finally understood what he meant. He was angry, she could feel it in the reckless way he drank from her. But he wasn't done, yet. He bit down a little to the left, and then to the right, and after a few minutes, Elena was certain her entire calf was torn apart. It sure felt like it.
With a quick move, the remains of her dress were jerked off her body, and Stefan's bloodied lips were ghosting above her skin. Elena softly whimpered as he kissed and occasionally bit on her flesh. He wasn't drinking anymore, merely causing her pain, and reminding her of who had the upper hand.
A groan escaped her when he span her around, the now sore back part of her body pressing against the sheets.
"This could have gone a completely different way," Stefan mumbled against her thigh, before nibbling down on it "You would have dressed in the clothes I bought for you," he repeated the action on her arm "and we would have had a passionate night."
Elena's stomach turned when their mouths touched, his aggressive tongue pushing through her lips, and seeking out her own. She could feel the bitter taste of her own blood, and it was what drove her to gather the courage she needed to slap his cheek as hard as she could.
He pulled back from her instantly, his eyes filling with blood, black veins popping out on his skin.
"I am afraid you haven't realized how pissed I am at you, or how far I am willing to take this," he grunted, and Elena experienced a whole new kind of fear as his fingers looped through the sides of her underwear, and hastily removed them.
"No! No, no, please, I am begging you, Stefan, don't, please," she begged with everything she had, as she tried to close her legs, hide her body from his furious stare, move away from him, all at once. Nothing worked. One hand clamped down on her leg, effectively holding her in place, despite her constant thrashing, while the other one fumbled with the buckle of his belt.
"This is your fault, Elena, and you are only making it harder for you," Stefan roared over her screaming.
They were both so caught up in their emotions, and task at hand, that none of them noticed the third figure walking inside, and coming to stand a few feet from them.
"What are you doing?" Bonnie demanded, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes fixed on the back of Stefan's head.
"Get the hell out of here, Bonnie," Stefan growled, while Elena stared at her friend speechless.
"I am asking you what do you think you are doing." She repeated, but her face noticeably paled when he turned around to glare at her, in all of his vampire glory.
"And I told you that what I do is none of your business," he stressed impatiently "now, get the hell out of here, or I swear I will cut your head off."
"You can't kill me, Stefan," Bonnie shot back, a triumphant hint apparent both in her expression, and voice "the moment you kill me, the barrier-spell will wear off. And that is not a part of your plan, is it?"
"You did that?" Elena exclaimed before Stefan had the chance to reply, and Bonnie winced as her gaze locked with the bloodied girl's. She was in a terrible state, that much she could tell. "You helped him? You actually helped him?"
"I had no choice, Elena," Bonnie whispered, but Elena refused to feel any sort of sympathy for her.
"You had no choice?" she exclaimed as fresh tears formed in her eyes "Matt is dead, Caroline and Jeremy will soon be, I am living my worst nightmare, and all you have to say is 'I had no choice?'. How could you? Who are you?"
"I am sorry to interrupt your moment, girls," Stefan intervened stealing from Bonnie the chance to reply "but I do not in the slightest care about your friendship. Bonnie, you and I had a deal. You are not to question what I do. I thought we were clear on that. And you know what happens if you go back on your word."
Bonnie swallowed hard, as she nodded in understanding.
"I will be downstairs." She mumbled, and without a last glance at Elena, she walked back out on the corridor.
Elena's expression was one of bewilderment and betrayal as she stared at her friend's retreating form, but it wouldn't last for long.
"Now, where were we?" Stefan said, undoing the buttons of his jeans. Elena shook her head from side to side, as she shoved her fists against his chest.
"No, don't, please…"
Stefan rolled his eyes and went on unzipping his pants.
Suddenly, Elena's body went limp, and her arms fell lifelessly on her sides. Her eyes were closed, she almost look like she was sleeping.
"What the hell?" he mumbled to himself, as he leaned down to inspect her closer. Perhaps she was only playing him, pretending to be asleep so that he would leave her alone?
But when he repeatedly slapped her cheeks, without managing to get a reaction out of her, he knew that wasn't the case. And as he retraced with his mind the last moments she had been conscious, he realized that she wouldn't have fainted out of the blue. Even though she had several injuries, she still had enough energy to struggle against him. If her fainting had been natural, she would have shown signs of weakness before passing out.
His nostrils flared as suddenly realization hit him. Elena hadn't passed out on her own. This was someone else's doing. A witch's doing.
"Bonnie!" Stefan's infuriated voice echoed through the house, and Bonnie raised a hand above her heart. She was hoping that he wouldn't be able to connect Elena's fainting to her so quickly. She was hoping that she would manage to go away with it.
"What the fuck have you done?" Stefan growled as he came to stand in front of her, trapping her between his lethal body and the wall.
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb with me, you stupid witch! What did you do to Elena?"
"Elena's body had suffered too much. She needed time to recover. To put it simply, she has gone to sleep," she replied as calmly as she could.
"To put it simply, when will she wake up?" Stefan questioned, trying to wrap his mind around how quickly his plan had gone to hell.
"When her body decides she's ready to."
"Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie…" Stefan whispered, gently caressing the side of her face "you weren't supposed to mess with my plan. Like I said, it wasn't a part of our deal. Now, you broke it. So, I don't need to hold my part, either." He grinned wickedly at her, before turning around and moving towards the basement.
"You won't hurt my dad." Bonnie stated forcefully, and the conviction in her voice was so strong, that made him shift so that he could face her again.
"Come again?"
"If you do, I will pull down the spell."
"I don't care," he answered shrugging his shoulders "No one is in a state to run away. I will still have enough time to kill them while you watch, and then I will kill you for betraying me. And don't tell me you don't care whether I kill your little friends, or not. After the stunt you pulled with Elena, it's pretty obvious that you do."
"If I take down the spell, though, Stefan, anyone will be able to enter the house. And if I am not mistaken, you have two vampires that would love nothing more than to drive a stake through your heart. One of them, older than you. So, basically, if I take down the spell, yes, you will probably kill all of us, but I am sure you will be joining us soon." She gasped when he blurred in front of her again.
"Is that supposed to be a threat, Bonnie?" he clarified, and she shook her head.
"No. I am just stating facts."
Stefan chuckled to himself as he took a step back, and regarded her with a thoughtful look.
"I still like you, Bonnie. You make a good partner. So, I am not going to hurt your father this time. But don't keep pushing your lack. I am not known as the forgiving type."
Damon groaned as he drained his umpteenth tumbler of bourbon and poured another one. With a loud huff he plopped down on the couch, and rested his head against the back. He wasn't good at this. He had never been good at this. Patience had never been one of his traits, and he wasn't interested in practicing it at his one hundred and sixty fourth year of age. He wasn't supposed to be sitting in this living room and trying to calm his nerves with alcohol. He was supposed to be making sure that Elena was safe and his brother lying in a hole on the ground. Or tied on a roof without his ring.
"Screw this," Damon growled in frustration, abruptly sitting up, and running in the direction Anna's voice was coming from.
Pearl didn't seem surprised when he entered the room and blurred to stand in front of her daughter, his expression holding an almost menacing edge as their eyes locked.
"This was your idea of helping each other?" he asked with a raised eyebrow "Me drinking myself into oblivion, and you calling a sex-line to get over your little boyfriend? News flash, baby. The longer we take to come up with something, the less the chances of getting either one of them out of there alive, are."
"Since you've got it all figured out, captain," Anna snapped back, not in the slightest fazed by his attitude "do tell me how we're going to take them out, if we can't go in!"
Pearl couldn't help but roll her eyes when Damon opened his mouth to respond. Frankly, it amazed her how easy it was for her daughter and Damon Salvatore to bicker like five year olds. And she was certain that given the chance, they would go on for ever.
"Anna has been trying to reach a witch willing to help us, Damon," she explained.
"And how is operation Sabrina going?" he inquired, even though the answer was pretty obvious.
"As shitty as it could," Anna moaned, breaking from their locked stare and leaning against the window. "All of the witches I used to know are either dead, or too far away. And Bree who is definitely not old enough to be dead is not answering my calls."
Damon winced visibly at the name 'Bree'. In a world of billions of people it was probably a coincidence, but then again, how many witches named Bree existed?
"Bree…" he breathed, as he twirled the glass around, the liquid splashing against the borders. "Does your witch Bree happen to live in Georgia?"
"Yes," Anna looked up to him in surprise "she has a bar there. Do you know her?"
"Yeah… I don't think you are going to find her."
"Why?" she asked timidly, the events of the day weighing on her and making it harder to control her reactions.
"Maybe… I kind of… ripped her heart out a little, last time we met…"
Anna had pushed him against the wall faster than anyone of them could blink, her fingers digging into the skin of his neck painfully hard.
"You mean you have killed Bree?"
"Can't breathe…" Damon chocked in response.
"Answer the question, Damon. Is Bree dead?"
"Yes," he mumbled, causing the older vampire to curse under her breath and let him drop on the floor. His hands instinctively moved to his already healing neck, as Anna started pacing up and down the length of the room.
"But if Bree is dead," Pearl whispered "that means that…"
"That means that there is nothing left for us to do," Anna finished her sentence.
"Why? Just move on to the next witchie friend on your contacts, Anna." Damon was annoyed at the turn of the evening. Everything was going fucking wrong and slow.
"That's exactly the thing, Damon!" Anna cried out "Bree was my last choice. There's nobody else. And it's your fault. God, it's always your fault."
"Always my fault? What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means it's 1864 all over again. You and your brother screw up all the time, and it's the people I love that always get hurt."
"Watch it, little one," Damon said warningly, but their conversation ended suddenly, when the bell of the front door rang, and all of their heads snapped in that direction.
"Expecting company?" Damon whispered, and Pearl shook her head from side to side.
"No… Harper, will you get the door, please?" she asked and they all waited as Harper's footsteps echoed in the hall. The door opened with a screeching sound, there was a thud, and then… nothing. The three vampires exchanged equally alarmed expressions as they all turned to face the door, fully aware that a human would show up there at any moment.
Damon's thoughts raced as he tried to figure out what was going on. Whatever scenario he had come up with was nowhere near reality. His eyebrows flew a good half mile up his forehead when John Gilbert appeared on the threshold, eyes serious and fierce.
"Do you have a death sentence, or something?" Damon was the first one to react "I thought we had cleared that I don't have grandpa's invention, and I am not going to help you get it."
"You are looking for Jonathan Gilbert's invention?" Pearl asked surprised, her gaze moving over the newcomer's form.
"I used to. But it's not the reason I am here tonight."
"Were you feeling lonely and came to grab a drink with us?" Damon asked sarcastically, earning himself a pointed glare from Pearl.
"Let the man talk, Damon. What would you want, Mr…"
"John. John Gilbert," Pearl's sharp intake of breath was easily heard by everyone but not further acknowledged "I am here because both my niece and nephew are missing, and even though I don't know why, or how, Stefan Salvatore seems to be at blame for this. You don't strike me like long lost friends who are hanging out at a peaceful Saturday night, so I am guessing you are here for the same reason I am. You want to help Jeremy and Elena."
"Aww, how cute," Damon drawled teasingly "you are dreaming of being a part of the Scooby gang. Sorry, so not going to happen. See yourself out, Uncle Sam. You are wasting our time."
"You are in no position to give orders in my house, Damon," Pearl's raised voice said.
"No, you don't get it," John cut in. "I am not here to ask to help, or offer my assistance. I am here because we are doing this together, and because you need me."
"Let's just compel him, and send him away, mother," Anna mumbled, moments before the lights inside the house flickered.
If they had been humans, they would have brushed it away as an electricity issue, but the vampire nature comes with suspiciousness and strong instinct of survival.
"What was that?" Pearl whispered, as the lights died once again, only to turn back on in a few seconds.
"Who the hell is with you?" Damon demanded, attempting to approach John, the only one who looked completely relaxed. But after he took a single step, darkness enveloped all of them, and Anna stated the thing they all knew to be true. "It's a witch."
Damon shook his head, even though nobody could actually see him.
"He didn't come just with a witch."
The sound of breaking crystal filled the room as various lamps exploded, and others shone with bright light.
All of their gazes fixed on the new figure now standing next to John, and all of their lips formed the same name.
"Katherine…"
"Missed me?" Katherine asked with a small smile on her face, and her hands firmly placed on the sides of her waist.
Sometimes help can come from the least expected place… in the least expected form…
Someone that used to be your enemy…
Someone that you haven't seen in years…
Someone that has betrayed you…
Your heart struggles; you don't want to trust them…
But when that's all you've got… the only thing you can do is accept their help, and pray that they won't stab you in the back.
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