A/N: Just a quick reminder that this story picked up at the end of We'll Always Have Bourbon Street, therefore the events of Oh Come All Ye Faithful did not happen. Also, a warning: tiny bit of language in this chapter cause you know...it's Damon.
Chapter Twelve
"E-lena," Damon sings, lightly nudging Elena awake.
"Mmmph," she replies, rolling over and burying her head back into her pillow.
"Wake up." He leans over to whisper into her ear, walking his fingers teasingly down the base of her spine as he does so.
Elena blinks against the morning sunlight and hides her face back under the covers. "Go away," she mumbles.
"Fine, I guess you don't want the breakfast I made you." He moves from his position sitting on the edge of the bed and flops down so that he's lying causally next her, his arms behind his head.
Her stomach growls in response. "Breakfast?" She peers out from under the covers.
Damon runs a hand up her arm playfully, an indulgent smile playing at his lips. "Yes. But you have to get up and come downstairs for it because Buffy got here ten minutes ago and she wants to talk to us."
Elena sits up, shivering against the cold of the bedroom. "What does she want to talk about?" She rubs her eyes blearily trying to clear away her morning grogginess. "Did something happen?"
"I think she just wanted to talk about yesterday." He turns, planting a soft kiss on her forehead, then her lips. Elena pulls him closer, deepening the kiss until he pulls away. "If I stay up here any longer we're going to have a cranky Slayer and burnt bacon," he murmurs, his head resting against her forehead. He drops another light kiss onto her lips and slides off the bed. "I'll see you downstairs."
Elena reluctantly crawls out of bed, quickly dressing herself in the thickest sweater she has, along with jeans and boots. This early Scottish spring is much cooler that Mystic Falls.
She pauses at the bottom of the stairs, enjoying the pleasant scent of maple syrup and bacon. She's surprised by the gentle domesticity of the scene; at the kitchen table, Buffy sits poised with a cup of coffee curled around her hands, nodding in response to something Damon is saying. He stands with his back to them in the kitchen, expertly flipping a slice of French toast off the skillet and onto a plate.
"Elena," Buffy greets her warmly. "We didn't really get to meet properly yesterday. I'm Buffy."
"Hi." Elena greets her with a tight smile. Despite Buffy's warm demeanour, there's something in her eyes Elena recognizes in her own every time she looks in the mirror. Buried under all her projected authority, her friendly attitude, lurks a profound knowledge of tragedy.
Damon turns around, waggling the plate in his hands over the counter for her to take. "Eat," he orders gently.
Elena takes it from him, deliberately brushing their hands together with an affectionate smile of thanks.
He replies with his own half smile, he seems to get a strange sense of enjoyment out of feeding her. "Sure you don't want anything, Buffy?"
Buffy shakes her head. "Thank you, I already ate." She sets down her mug firmly, her attitude conveying she is all business. "So I wanted to apologise for what happened yesterday. Robin is an old friend; he's helped us out of a few tight spots. Even though he's not technically affiliated with the Slayers, we've always welcomed him at the Collective. One of the rules here though is that guns are not allowed anywhere on the compound, a rule which he knew about and broke. "
Elena bites her lip, giving Buffy a non-committal nod of understanding.
"We're still trying to get to the bottom of what happened yesterday," Buffy continues.
"He's still here?" Damon spits dubiously, taking the seat across from Elena.
"We're keeping him in the basement of the multi-purpose building," Buffy explains. "We're still working on getting him to tell us what happened. He's not been in the know concerning what gone on with the two of you and Klaus but he claims he's been researching Katherine Pierce on his own," she pauses, taking a sip of her coffee. "According to him, he heard she was in Europe, stopped here for a few days to rest before going to find her, and coincidently ran into the two of you. Xander and I both think there's way more to it than he's letting on but...we were hoping you might be able to...help." She trails off awkwardly.
"What exactly do you want us to do?" Damon seats himself across from Elena, smothering his French toast with maple syrup. "Because being shot at isn't really the ticket into my good graces."
Buffy leans back in her seat, sighing. "You don't trust us anymore. I get it. But we're going to need to work together if we're going to take down Klaus. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to, but I was hoping you'd at least...hear him out?"
Elena stabs a piece of her bacon forcefully. "What makes you think we'll be any help to you?" she asks, mostly for Damon's benefit. It was obvious to her yesterday that Robin had some kind of history with Katherine and she's betting Buffy noticed as well.
Buffy's eyes are heavy with the weight of her responsibilities. "You guys know Katherine personally and we're pretty sure he does as well. We were hoping that maybe you help get him to talk."
Damon leans back in his seat with a dark expression on his face. He's never taken well to the hearing the K word, especially this early in the morning.
Elena looks down at her food awkwardly. "Why don't you let us talk about it and let you know?" she suggests hopefully, trying to dispel the tension that has settled in the room.
Buffy briskly nods, pulling her phone from her pocket to glance at the time. "It's eight o'clock right now. I have to go help Violet with something, but I'm going to see Robin right after. If you want to come, meet me at the multi-purpose building in thirty minutes. If not, I'll see you at the library at ten."
She leaves with a curt nod to both of them.
"So?" Elena asks as the door clicks shut behind Buffy. "What do you think?"
Damon delicately pops a bite of toast into his mouth. Elena always finds herself impressed by the elegant way in which he and Stefan eat. Even after all these years, their upbringing as Southern gentlemen sticks with them in the strangest ways.
He scowls. "I think Katherine's a massive pain in the ass and next time I see her she's getting a stake to the gut."
"Don't you want to know what happened?" Elena probes.
Damon rattles his spoon around in his coffee cup even though he drinks it black, almost like he needs the distraction. "I don't need to talk to him to know what happened, Elena. It's the same story it always is; Katherine wanted something, she seduced him, he fell in love, she left as soon as she got what she wanted. It's not exactly the great American novel."
Elena looks down at her food, thinking of a moment as she pushes around a few pieces of toast with her fork. "Maybe," she says, raising her head. "But don't you want to know what she wanted? Or why she left him alive? There could be more to this Damon," she suggests, her voice low. "If we help them now, maybe they'll be more willing to hear us out if it comes to using the white oak stake."
Damon pulls the spoon out of his cup and sets it down on his plate gently. "Don't worry about the stake; I took care of it," he assures her lightly. He casually takes a sip of coffee, trying to brush the matter off, but Elena can see right through his projection of normalcy.
Elena's eyes flash in astonishment. "What do you mean you took care of it?"
"I mean, it's taken care of," Damon says through gritted teeth, his voice hushed. He glances furtively towards the door Buffy walked out of a few moments ago, then and back at her. "The less you know the better, alright?"
"I thought we weren't going to keep things from each other." She drops her fork, letting it hit the edge of the plate with a resounding clatter.
Damon winces at the noise. "I'm not keeping things from you," he tells her evenly.
"Then why won't you tell me?" Her skin prickles with irritation.
Damon runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "Because it's better for everyone involved if you don't know."
"What are they going to do? Torture it out of me? There's no reason to lie to me, Damon."
"I'm not lying to you," he insists, offended at the insinuation. "I'm just purposefully not telling you something."
Elena angrily bites her lip to keep from reminding him he's acting exactly like Stefan. She stands and walks into the kitchen, taking her empty plate with her. "How long exactly has it been 'taken care of'?" She flicks on the sink and rolls up her sleeves. Grabbing a brush, she vigorously scrubs at the syrup stuck to her plate.
"Elena..." He comes to stand behind her.
"Dammit, Damon, just tell me," she exclaims. Abandoning the dishes, she reels around to face him, pointing the soapy scrub brush at his chest. He stands there, regarding her with an amused smirk on his face that makes her want to explode with aggravation. Is it so much to ask that she go two whole days without secrets? God forbid she be in control of something in her life for five whole minutes.
"I can't tell you, Elena." The words trip off his tongue sincerely, even with a sense of guilt; but to her they sound practiced, like all this time he's just been sitting on the sidelines, taking notes from Stefan.
"Why? Because you did something stupid and it's going to make me even madder?"
Damon's eyes flicker with momentary rage, but they settle quickly into rational concern. "No. Because it's not safe for you to know about it."
She flings the brush back into the sink where it lands with a splat, sending drops of water flying. "I think we've already proved that what I don't know can hurt me. You can't protect me from everything!"
"It's not about protecting you, Elena," Damon sighs with annoyance.
Elena puts her hands on her hips, meeting his heated gaze. "Really? Because that's what it sounds like."
Damon's mouth curls and she realizes she finally triggered that raging undercurrent of intensity that always lurks beneath the surface. "You want to know what I did, Elena?" He cups her face with both his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Do you really want to know? Because you're not going to like it."
"Just tell me!" she cries, jerking herself out of his grasp.
"Fine," he spits evenly. He leans back against the wall feigning indifference. "I gave Matt Donovan a list of places I thought it could be and asked him to find it and hide it somewhere else."
"You got Matt involved in this?" She chokes, her voice hurt.
His face softens and he tries to take her hand but she jerks away from him. Still, he stands close, his voice low. "I had to Elena; he wanted to help and we needed it."
"How could you do that?" Her voice cracks with hurt and fury. Her next words leave her mouth before she even really knows what she's saying. "That's why you really gave him the ring isn't it? So we could find the stake if we needed it someday."
Damon seems to process her words before she herself even realizes what exactly left her mouth. He reels back as if she slapped him. "Low. Fucking. Blow. Elena," he spits, his eyes filled with a fleeting glimpse of hurt followed by sheer fury.
"Matt is the only one who knows where it is. If anything, him dying would have further solved our problem." He pulls away from her, radiating a quiet, cold wrath that is so much worse than his explosive rage. He storms away from her and a moment later the front door slams shut behind him.
Elena leans back against the wall, her head in her hands, once again regretting having hurt someone she loved with words she did not mean.
Leaving the dishes, she grabs the light jacket Bonnie packed for her, and takes off outside. Damon is long gone by now, and she lets him be because she knows he needs to blow off some steam, hopefully without completely self destructing. Despite the April chill, she strolls around the compound, trying to clear her head. She regrets her words but she can't make herself regret her anger at being kept in the dark.
She stops at the archery field where a group of ten or so girls are running through a series of exercises, armed with stakes. Faith stands at the front, shouting out commands as the Slayers all move as one, kicking and thrusting their stakes foreword gracefully. Leaning against the fence, Elena watches in fascination for some time as they go through their routine.
"All right girls, let's call it a day." Faith yells after about fifteen minutes. The girls break formation. Some of them give her a soft nod as they drop their stakes into a duffle bag and file past her, talking animatedly with each other as head up the hill. Faith picks up her water bottle, coming to stand next to Elena. "Hey," she says, sucking down some water. "You're up early."
Elena awkwardly shoves her hands into her coat pocket. "Just thought I'd take a walk. Clear my head, you know." She pauses awkwardly for a moment. "I'm sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I know it wasn't your fault."
Faith shrugs, looking wistfully at the sky. "It's cool. For what it's worth, I'm sorry it happened at all. If Hallmark made an 'I'm sorry my ex tried to kill you' card, I'd totally buy you one."
Elena finds herself smiling in spite of everything. "They should. I could use some."
"Yeah?" Faith gives a half laugh, closing her water bottle with her teeth and throwing it to the ground next to a large duffle bag of stakes.
"Sometimes," Elena answers, kicking the ground lightly. "Damon could use a boatload."
"Is he doing okay?" Faith tries to sound nonchalant, but there is a definite edge of concern in her voice.
Elena swallows grimly. "Yeah he's...fine." She hesitates for a moment. "He likes you, you know, but people he likes...they tend to die. That's why he's pushing you away. You just have to push back."
Faith nods, contemplating this as she twirls a stake expertly in her hands. "Wanna try what they were doing this morning?"
Elena looks at the stake in Faith's hands dubiously. "I don't know any of the moves," she admits. Sure she knows the gist of how to plunge it into a vampire, but other than the time she gut staked Stefan with a stake rigged wrist guard, she has little practical experience.
Faith tosses her the stake and Elena is surprised by how easily she catches it.
"There's nothing to it." Faith takes her by the shoulder and guides her away from the fence a few steps.
"So you want to stand with your feet about hip width apart," Faith instructs. Elena obeys, though she feels slightly foolish. "Now the first position is simple," Faith continues. "Raise the stake in your right hand, about shoulder level. Good, now bring it forward, keep your elbow up."
Faith guides her though a series of positions and soon Elena is manoeuvring the stake in a variety of new ways. She can't move near as fast as the Slayers can, but years of dance team and cheerleading have prepared her well and she moves through the positions like a dance.
"You're good at this," Faith tells her with a smile.
Elena grins back. "You're a good teacher."
"I don't usually do this," Faith says, waving her off. "I was just covering for Rona. Really though, you should ask Buffy. When it comes to the motivational teaching stuff, she's really gifted."
Elena throws the stake back in the bag with trepidation. "I wouldn't want to bother her. I'm sure she's got other stuff to do."
"We should talk to her after the Scooby meeting later." Faith hoists the bag onto her shoulder, heading towards a small storage shed. "I mean I'm happy to keep showing you stuff if she can't, but if you want someone who will really push you, Buffy's the girl to do it."
"You did really well with Damon in Mystic Falls. He's not exactly the easiest person to teach," Elena points out. "I think you're a better teacher than you realize."
"I can't take a whole lot of credit for Damon." Faith opens the shed and throws the bag of stakes inside, shutting the door behind her. "He already knows a lot of stuff; he just needs to relearn how to do it in a human body. His problem is he thinks he knows everything...which he kind of does."
Elena bites back a laugh. "Yeah, it's infuriating isn't it?" she jokes as they climb up the hill. She still feels horrible about what she said, but the exercise helped a bit. Her head feels clearer, her objectivity no longer compromised by sheer anger.
Faith chuckles. "Trust me, all men are infuriating."
When the girls reach the top of the hill, Faith glances towards the library. "I have to go take a shower real quick before the Scooby meeting. See you there?"
"Yeah sure," Elena replies.
Faith gives her a small wave as she walks away.
Elena glances at her phone; it's only a bit after nine but the chill of the highland April morning cuts into her light jacket, so she decides to wait in the library.
The Romanesque building nearly wards her off with its sheer size. Its front is guarded by a massive door, the intricately carved classical figures illuminated by the gleam of the morning sunlight. It looks incredibly heavy, but when she nudges it slightly, it gives, swinging open to reveal the largest library she has ever laid eyes on.
The inside of the building is all open, revealing multiple storeys, lined floor to ceiling with beautiful, dark bookshelves. It is lit by a large picture window that looks out onto the rolling green highlands below. Circular staircases at either end lend way to the next level, and the central space—along with the space in front of the roaring fireplaces—is dotted with large, long tables and chairs. Elena takes a few more steps into the room, her boots clinking on the marble floors. Breath taken by the beauty, she runs a finger along one of the old leather bindings on the nearest shelf; the title is written in gold curling letters in a language she can't read.
She pauses in front of one of the tables in the centre of the room. Someone researching has left a smattering of books and papers scattered across the table. Curious, she glances down at them, and almost immediately, her eyes catch on a familiar name.
Katerina Petrova
Elena leans closer, finding it to be an old journal of some kind. Dated February of 1865, it details an account of Katherine's arrival in Mystic Falls and the following events that transpired in1864. Elena reads through it eagerly, though she already knows the story. The events line up more or less with what she already knows, except the author declares that Katherine died in the church fire as the last of the Petrova line. Still, it is off putting to see the familiar story outlined so objectively, almost callously. She picks up the journal, curious to see if there is more, but as she does so, a glossy old photograph falls out, landing face down on the table. Elena picks it up by its edges, expecting perhaps a picture of Katherine; what she sees instead makes her breath catch.
Damon is seated at a table, leaning forward on his elbows to whisper something to the woman sitting across from him. His eyes are dropped, doing that flirty thing he often does, but even in black and white, his dark eyelashes stand out with a stark beauty.
As soon as her gaze falls on the woman next to him, Elena finds herself utterly fascinated. She's stunningly beautiful, not in a traditional sense, but in a way that emits a glow of charm and glamour. Her bobbed hair curls out into gentle waves in a way only a flapper could achieve and her dress, what isn't blocked by the table anyways, is a light coloured drop waist with intricate beading on the front. Her face is caught in a laugh, eyes alight with more than just joy; there's a teasing thirst of almost...revenge in them.
Elena blinks a few times, and holds the photograph away from herself, trying to clear her head. There's something vaguely familiar about this woman, something she can't quiet put her finger on. Her eyes fall to the spiky handwriting on the bottom of the photograph; Monaco, 1924, is all it reads. Clearly taken well after 1865, she wonders how the photograph even found its way into this particular journal. It's so lovely it looks like it should belong in an old movie, or on the page of a magazine, not shoved into some dusty old journal.
"Holy crap!" A voice exclaims from behind her. Elena jumps, dropping the photograph and journal onto the table. She reels around, her heart racing. A man with mussed, sandy blonde hair clutches the back of the chair next to her. Judging by his Firefly t-shirt, worn with a blazer and jeans, Elena presumes he's probably the owner of the Doctor Who one Damon scoffed at yesterday.
"I'm sorry, I—"
The man waves his hand off-handily with a gentle expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you it's just... that picture. Could I look at it please?"
Elena picks up the photograph by the edges and hands it to him. "It fell out of the journal," she explains nervously. "I didn't..."
"I know," the guy waves her off. "I wonder how that got in the 1865 journal," he muses under his breath. "I guess it doesn't surprise me though that Anya knew Damon Salvatore."
Anya.
Elena thinks for a moment, trying to place the name.
"...the Salvatores seem to have a weakness for beautiful women," the man continues. "It's what started the whole debacle in 1864 anyways. Such a sad story really, what happened to them."
"I'm sorry...who are you?" she asks, confused.
"I'm—" he starts to answer but he is cut off by a distinguished looking older man who emerges from the stacks, a thick book in his hands.
"You have no idea who you're talking to, do you, Andrew?" he poses, his eyes alight with amusement. "Rupert Giles," he introduces himself, turning to Elena. He speaks with a thick, but yet soothingly articulate British accent. "And you are Elena Gilbert, I presume?"
Andrew looks at him in confusion; an expression which Elena is sure mirrors her own.
"Miss Gilbert is the Petrova doppelganger," Mr. Giles clarifies. "You shouldn't leave this information lying around though, Andrew. If you'd looked at your email like you were supposed to, you would know that."
Andrew's mouth forms a perfect oh.
"Don't mind Andrew," Mr. Giles informs Elena wearily. "He has a tendency towards the theatrical and an aversion to checking his email."
"You hate email!" Andrew snaps out of his daze to protest.
"Willow asked you to familiarize yourself with her research on the Petrova line while she was gone; clearly you haven't done that," Mr. Giles reprimands. "Or read the email I sent out yesterday informing everyone of Miss Gilbert's arrival. If you had, I would hope you'd have recognized her."
Andrew looks down, slightly chagrined, and Elena can't help but feel bad for him.
Mr. Giles sets his book down on the table. Elena peers at it out of the corner of her eyes, fascinated by the strange language it appears to be written in. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Gilbert."
"'Elena is fine, Mr. Giles," she tells him warmly.
"We just call him 'Giles,'" Andrew interjects. His voice is high pitched, but there is something incredibly endearing about him.
Giles rolls his eyes. "Yes, thank you, Andrew," he retorts crisply.
Elena holds up the journal she was looking at. "Where did you get this?"
Giles pushes his glasses up his nose. "Those are the Watcher's journals," he announces. "That one belongs to Edmund Carton, I believe. He was stationed in Richmond, but due to the war, he didn't arrive in Mystic Falls until it was too late I'm afraid. By the time he managed to get there, the vampires were dead—or so everyone thought—and the Salvatores were long gone. He managed to get a fairly accurate account from the locals, it seems."
"I'd have to agree," Elena comments, flipping to a new page of the journal. Instead of Katherine, this one starkly details of both Damon and Stefan's human lives; starting with Damon's birthday on December 7th, 1840, something he's always refused to tell her. She stops skimming after the date though, not wanting to violate his privacy.
"We found a picture of Anya in there." Andrew hands Giles the photograph. "Don't you think that's strange?"
Giles studies the picture carefully. "Yes, that is rather...odd."
"Do you think I could borrow this?" Elena asks, flipping the journal shut. She doesn't want to go through it without talking to Damon first, but maybe they could look at it together.
Giles glances at it, slightly distracted by his examination of the photograph. "If you want to, I don't see why not. Just make sure you bring it back."
"Thank you." She glances at the pile of journals and papers scattered about the table. "So you've been researching us?"
"Yes, we've been doing some research since you and Katerina showed up in London looking for Spike," Giles explains, tucking the photograph facedown into his breast pocket. "In all my years, I've never come up with a doppelganger case quite like this; it's quite fascinating really. I wish we could have Katerina here as well, but I've been informed that she seems to have run off..."
"Trust me, that's the best thing for this entire hemisphere," Damon quips as he strolls into the room flanked by Bonnie and Caroline. Elena can tell from his dark expression he is still in a mood from this morning, not that she can blame him. She keeps the journal in her hands, but folds it under her crossed arms.
"You're—" Andrew stares at Damon with a combination of shock and awe.
"Damon Salvatore," Giles says firmly, surveying Damon almost clinically. Damon holds out a hand to him, which Giles takes neatly. "I'm Rupert Giles."
Damon gives him a curt nod, and shakes his hand.
Letting go, he gestures to Caroline and Bonnie. "This is Caroline Forbes and Bonnie Bennett."
"It's nice to meet you," Caroline greets, giving him a warm, Miss Mystic Falls smile. She pulls out one of the chairs and seats herself, smoothing down her skirt. Bonnie gives him a small smile and seats herself next to Caroline.
"Where are Willow, Xander and Buffy?" Giles asks. "...and Faith," he adds as an afterthought.
"I'm right here," Faith calls, sidling into the room while pulling her wet hair up into a ponytail. She casually perches herself the edge of the table next to Caroline.
"Everyone else is finishing up with Robin," Damon explains. "They'll be here soon." Elena presumes he went to the questioning with Buffy after all, she tries to catch his eye, but he ignores her, taking a seat at the far end of the table.
Giles sighs. "Faith, don't sit on the table, please." Faith rolls her eyes and hops off the table, taking a seat in a chair instead. Elena seats herself next to Faith with several chairs between herself and Damon, who is angrily skimming through one of the books in front of him. Across from her, Caroline raises her eyebrows, but Elena silences her with a look.
Even still, the tension between the two of them is palpable to everyone but Andrew, whose glance flicks between Elena and Damon like they are fascinating new specimens.
"Sorry we're late," Buffy apologises, bursting into the room with Xander, Willow, and Elijah at her heels. "We were having a conversation about Robin and how he managed to get a gun onto the compound."
"Robin brought a gun onto the compound?" Andrew cries out, surprised.
Xander rolls his eyes. "Here's a tip for you," he starts snippily, "Leave the library on occasion."
"Yes, well let's commence with our meeting, shall we?" Giles replies wearily as if he is used to having to keep the peace. He gestures to the remaining seats. Elijah seats himself on the other side of Faith; he sits as poised as ever, back straight, hands folded politely. Elena doesn't think she's ever seen him so much as touch the back of the chair. Across from him, Willow plops down on the other side of Bonnie. Xander pulls up a chair from one of the empty tables and turns it around, sitting backwards next to where Giles stands.
"Andrew!" Buffy reprimands, leaning against the shelf behind them. "Stop staring; it's rude." Andrew guiltily tears his gaze away from Elena and busies himself with gathering up the papers scattered across the table.
Xander surveys the awkward group of people sitting before him. "So... should we all get acquainted first or should we just start with how we're going to take out Mr. Fur and Fangs?" he asks flippantly.
"Or we could start with Anya," Andrew pipes up, hopefully.
"Anya?" Xander stares at him in confusion. "What about her?"
"You could show the tiniest bit of tact you know," Giles scolds Andrew, scathingly. "This is not something we need to discuss as a group."
"What does any of this have to do with Anya?" Buffy bristles.
Giles takes his glasses off, wiping them on the end of his shirt. "It has nothing to do with the matter at hand. I suggest we continue with our discussion about Klaus."
Xander shifts in his seat, clearly agitated by this subject of conversation. "What's this about Giles?" His voice is quiet, perturbed.
"I think I know," Willow's eyes shift guiltily from Damon to Xander. "I'm so sorry Xander; this is my fault."
Giles resignedly hands Xander the photograph. Xander raises his eyebrows as he sees what is on it and looks towards Damon. "Well...this is awkward." Elena shifts slightly in her seat, feeling Willow's eyes fall on her.
"It would be nice if someone would tell me what 'it' is," Damon snaps, irritated. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"
Xander sets the photograph down on the table. Almost comically, everyone at the table but herself, Willow and Xander peer over to get a look at the picture. Elena feels Caroline and Bonnie's eyes on her, but she refuses to engage with their pity. She isn't jealous, merely curious with a tinge of embarrassment at their misplaced pity.
"This is my fault." Willow's brown eyes fill with guilt. "I didn't mean to...it was just..." she turns to Xander, her whole body tense. "When we first started cataloguing the library materials, years ago, I made a file for Anya, just like I did with all the other demons and vampires. I knew you'd look in her file sooner rather than later, but you were still grieving and I didn't want you to get upset by her picture so I...stuck it in with the Salvatore and Petrova stuff instead." She relaxes a bit as she finishes her confession but her eyes still dart around the room like a scared deer. "I completely forgot all about it. This was years and years ago. I never in my wildest dreams thought we'd ever need to research the Petrova stuff."
Xander gives her a forgiving smile. "It's okay Will." He turns to Damon. "So I guess you knew Anya?"
Damon's lip curls in response. "I know her as 'Anyanka.'"
Anyanka. Elena remembers now: Katherine's friend, the vengeance demon. She tries to catch Damon's eye, but he still won't look at her.
"Damon is not the only one." Elijah interjects calmly. "Willow misplacing this photo may actually have been a stroke of luck indeed." He surveys them all passively. "Anyanka is older even than myself and she spent some time over the years with my brother and I. I had not considered this before, but she may know something of use to us. Niklaus was quite fond of her once— this was before he lapsed into his current state of paranoia."
"She knew Katherine too," Elena says quietly. She knows Damon is not going to handle this well but she cannot remain silent. "She tried to call on her in LA. I think...I think they were friends."
Elijah's generally indifferent expression melds itself into something akin to mild surprise, but he quickly rearranges his features to hide it.
Damon however makes no show of it; his eyes roll back in his head, his face contorting with revulsion. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."
"It would explain..." Elijah trails off. "Well it might explain the falling out between Niklaus and Anyanka during the late 15th century. I don't recall ever seeing Anyanka and Katerina together, but it is certainly possible I wasn't the only one who sought to help Katerina avoid the sacrifice. Niklaus and I had a falling out of our own over that, so I never found out why he severed all his ties with Anyanka."
"Katherine knew her as a human," Elena contributes. "Something about helping her exact vengeance. Maybe that's how Katherine even wound up in England in the first place?"
Elijah shakes his head thoughtfully. "It depends on if Anyanka was aware Katerina was the doppelganger. If she was, I don't know why she would have pointed her towards Niklaus only to help her escape. Unless she had a change of heart..." He shakes his head slightly. "I suppose it doesn't really matter. Although I think we can safely assume that if Anyanka knows anything about how to destroy Niklaus, she didn't tell Katerina." He glances at Xander. "Does anyone know where we might find Anyanka?"
Buffy comes to stand behind Xander, almost protectively. "Anya's dead. She's been dead for ten years now."
Caroline interrupts the hush of reverence that falls over the room. "If she was a demon or whatever, she'd be on the Other Side though, right?" She turns to Bonnie. "You contacted Emily that one time; couldn't you do it again?"
"Emily was a witch and my ancestor," Bonnie answers. "That makes it a lot easier. Plus, because of Damon and the tomb, she'd been waiting for me to contact her. She managed what she did because I pulled and she pushed. If we had Jeremy it would be a snap, but..." She trails off, lost in thought.
"I want to try." Willow announces after a moment, breaking the sudden silence. The determination in her eyes radiates raw power, reminding Elena that just because Willow generally looks harmless does not make her so.
Xander's eyes grow wide. "Really?"
"I can't make any guarantees it will work, but I want to try. Together Bonnie and I are packing a lot of power."
Giles's brow furrows with a concerned expression, but Willow holds up a hand to silence him before he can say anything. "I can handle this Giles," she reassures him. "Contacting the Other Side isn't about using corruptive magic; it's just about having enough power to maintain a connection. We'll have salt to keep anything else from getting through." Giles raises a sceptical eyebrow. "Between Bonnie and me, I think we can do it." Willow insists. "It'll have to be brief though. Xander if there's something you need to say to her..."
He shakes his head sadly. "There's a thousand things I want to say, Will. But I think we already said the things that matter."
Buffy grabs a piece of paper off the table. "Okay Will," she breezes, lightly, though her face remains serious. "What are you going to need?"
"Candles of course," Willow holds her hand as if she is mentally ticking things off on her fingers. "...salt...I'm also going to need something associated with Anya."
"Like what?" Xander inquires. "I know we shipped some of our stuff out of Sunnydale before everything got all Hellmouth-y, but I don't have any of her things."
Willow smiles. "Anya might have been a vengeance demon for centuries, but she died a human." Her voice softens. "A human who loved you. Your physical person is probably the strongest connection we can forge. I think we should wait until the moon rises tonight though and do it outside. It will give us an extra bit of power."
"We'll do it tonight then." Buffy stands with her hands on her hips. "But if this doesn't work, we're gonna need a Plan B."
"If this doesn't work then we'll go ahead with what we were going to do anyways," Bonnie replies. "We think the ingredients Esther drew upon are the key to undoing the magic."
Caroline leans back in her chair, clearly becoming bored with the proceedings. "Can't we just desiccate him like we did before?" She growls in frustration.
Willow shakes her head. "We have to stop a human heart to do that. And even if we found an ethical way to do it, that kind of magic corrupts. We could wind up with some seriously bad consequences, maybe even worse ones than Klaus."
Buffy looks sternly to Willow and Bonnie. "If this thing with Anya doesn't work, you guys have a week to find something. If you can't find a way to do this magically by then, we're going to have to find another solution. We haven't got a lot of time," she warns darkly. "He's already sired his hybrids." She turns to Elijah. "Do you have any idea what he intends to do with them?"
He shakes his head. "No, but I assure you, nothing good can come of my brother having them. We're going to need a lot of manpower just to get to Niklaus."
"According to my research, in the last six hundred years, nine Slayers have taken on Klaus and none of them has lived to tell the tale," Giles warns. His voice quavers with concern. "This is not something we can go into lightly."
Damon leans forward unto his elbows. "And hybrids are a lot harder to kill than your everyday vamp," he adds for Faith and Buffy's benefit. "If you don't take out the head or the heart, they just keep coming."
Caroline twitches slightly in her seat. "What if we had hybrids too?" She suggests excitedly. She turns to Faith. "You said that they're in safe houses in the States right? What if we got them to fight?"
"Would they though? I mean they're safe where they are," Damon throws out, unconvinced. "Do they really hate Klaus enough to risk allying with us and possibly dying in the attempt to take him down?"
"They might for Tyler," Elena speculates after considering this for a moment. "I mean he was their alpha and Klaus killed him. Maybe if there was a way to rally them?"
Damon finally faces her, his eyes dark, mouth twisted into a sinister smirk. "And how would you doing suggest that, Elena?" he inquires acidly. Elena flinches slightly at his tone but then narrows her eyes at him, trying to convey he doesn't bother her.
Bonnie looks between them, knowing she is caught in the middle of something she doesn't quite understand. "Caroline," she suggests. "They'd do it for Caroline."
Elena shakes her head. "They tried to torture her."
Damon's fingers rap irritation against the table. "Actually Caroline might work. Tyler made them submit after that, correct?" Elena nods in agreement. "She might be able to rally them on Tyler's behalf."
"Um...slight problem," Caroline interrupts. "I don't remember Tyler, remember? How am I going to rally a bunch of hybrids to fight on behalf of a guy I can't even remember?"
Bonnie's eyes glint with amusement. "Caroline, you ran for student body president as a sophomore, even though you even technically weren't allowed, and you still managed to beat all the seniors. If anyone was born to do this, it's you."
A small smile tugs at Caroline's lips. "And I did it all without even compelling anyone. Wait, do you think that would work if I tried to run for President?"
"Let's just stick with rallying the hybrids," Giles replies despairingly.
Xander waves an arm in the air to get their attention. "Um...how are we going to do that? Angel's got them locked away somewhere."
"What about just making a video?" Faith suggests. "We could record her and send it to Angel. He could make sure it gets to all the safe houses and if they want to join us, he could help get them here. Couldn't he?"
Buffy nods, considering this. "I think it could work. Andrew could help with that. Could the two of you get started this afternoon?"
"Actually I was—" Andrew's protests fall from his lips as he meets Buffy's gaze. He gulps once. "Let's do it," he tells Caroline enthusiastically. She gives him a small smile of encouragement.
"In the meantime," Buffy continues. "Tonight is our top priority. Let's meet in the archery field at say eight?"
As soon as the meeting adjourns, the group scatters themselves, Damon at the lead, radiating a cold fury as he storms outside. Elena watches him go with apprehension, unsure how to make everything right. While she waits for a moment to approach Buffy about training, she leans against the edge of the table, almost enjoying the fact it digs into her back.
She's literally yanked out of her musing by Caroline's vicelike grip. "What the hell is going on with you?" She attempts to whisper, but fails at it rather pathetically. "I practically had to drag you two off each other yesterday."
Elena tries to wrest her wrist out of Caroline's hand, but she is having none of it. "Drop it, Caroline," she whispers, finally wrenching herself out of her grasp. She rubs her wrist a few times, wondering if it will bruise. "I don't want to talk about it."
Caroline cocks her hip to one side, her expression sceptical. Elena braces herself for the theories she is sure are about to come pouring out of her mouth when Buffy catches her eye.
"Elena?"
Elena breathes a sigh of relief, much to Caroline's indignation. She pats her friend on the shoulder and joins Buffy and Faith in their conversation.
Buffy examines her with arms crossed as Elena sidles up to them. "So Faith thinks that you would benefit from training with me. What do you think?"
Elena gulps; despite the genuine personality Buffy seems to project, she is still incredibly intimidating, perhaps in some ways more so than even Katherine. "I already know some things but I want to be better," she states firmly. "My brother needs me."
Buffy brushes a strand of hair away from her face. "Look, I'm going to be blunt with you. I don't want to take you into battle. But Willow seems to think that Klaus or not, your blood might be a catalyst for all kinds of crazy magic. So whether we take him out or not, there's a good chance you'll always be in danger. And for that reason, I think you should be able to fight."
Elena swallows with apprehension, she has guessed this may be the case, but it is a horrifying thought. If she had been given a choice to stay a vampire or not, it is certainly something she would have considered a factor in her decision.
She meets Buffy's gaze head on. "Then I want to train."
Buffy smiles in response. "We'll start tomorrow then. Faith will continue working with Damon. Meet me at the gym at six thirty tomorrow morning."
Elena returns to the guest house only to find it deserted, the breakfast dishes still piled in the sink. She doesn't bother to stay, just throws the journal onto the kitchen table and takes off again, trying to think of where Damon might have gone.
She starts by following the path that leads through the woods behind the house; after about thirty minutes of fruitless searching she finally glimpses a shock of black hair dark against the green of the trees. Grateful for her boots, she trudges off the path and into the woods.
Damon sits on the ground, his back resting against a tree, staring out morosely. Elena sinks to the ground across from him, resting her own back against a tree opposite him. They sit so close; when she stretches out her feet slightly, they touch the tips of his boots.
He regards her for a moment; the day's revelations weigh heavily in the set of his shoulders. "Are you here to make sure I haven't done anything stupid?" he inquires, his voice dripping with bitterness.
Elena shakes her head. "I hate how we left things this morning," she starts. "I'm so sorry."
His brow creases with anger. "Great. Thanks. That makes everything better."
Elena bites her lip, hating herself for hurting him so badly. "Damon...what I said this morning. I didn't mean it alright? My temper got the better of me and I didn't even realize what I said until the words left my mouth. I was just so frustrated that you wouldn't tell me."
Damon sighs heavily. "Elena, did it ever occur to you that for once it wasn't about you? I didn't tell you to protect Stefan. And Caroline. And Matt. Why don't you think for a second what would happen if the wrong person found out what you knew?"
Elena blinks, shocked at this new information. If only she'd thought of that earlier. "Damon I— I wish you'd said that this morning."
He shakes his head. "Well maybe you should have trusted me," he snaps.
Elena bows her head. "It wasn't about trust. I trust you with my life. I trust you with more than my life. It was about control. I just wanted...to feel like I had some power over something. For just a second. Can't you understand that?"
He gives a harsh laugh, shaking his head. Elena knows he's thinking of Katherine and all the strings she's pulled in his existence. "You have to stop being hypocritical about this, Elena. Matt wanted to help. Matt would give up his life for you and Caroline and Jeremy and you know that. You can't just act like its okay for you to do it and not for everyone else."
"I don't want anyone else to die because of me."
Damon leans forward onto his knees. "You're going to have to get it through your head; people are going to get hurt."Elena looks away. "But I think we both know that stopping Klaus is about a whole lot more than you now."
She bites her lip. "I know it's about more than me," she breathes. "But I don't like it either way." She slumps back against the tree, wrapping her arms around her legs. "What happened this morning? With the Robin thing?"
Damon pulls up a bit of grass, twirling it around in his fingers. "Pretty much what I expected. Elijah and I were apparently intimidating enough that he became a sudden wealth of information. Elijah didn't even have to compel him other than to check his story."
"Did he say anything interesting?"
"It was pretty standard Katherine. She was trying to get information about the Slayers, something about a weapon...she compelled him..." He waves a hand lazily. "...etcetera. The only interesting thing was that he had a bad accident a few years ago and suffered some head trauma. That's how the compulsion started to wear off."
"I didn't know that was possible."
"Yeah, I didn't either but it seems plausible to me. When you're compelled, everything in your mind is still there, it's just...blocked. It can be broken, as you've seen."
Elena nods in acknowledgment. "Jeremy said there was something missing when it came to Vicki, even though he couldn't remember. It's the same for Caroline."
"Like I said, it's all still there in your subconscious; you just can't consciously recognize it. Like when you started throwing around the word 'consumed,' even though you shouldn't have been able to remember."
Elena feels her lips form into a half smile. "I bet that threw you off."
He flings the piece of grass at her playfully.
"It's not a perfect solution, but I bet Caroline could compel me to forget," she suggests, picking the grass off her jacket. "She wouldn't have to know what it's about."
"She's going to be mildly suspicious."
Elena shrugs. "It's Caroline. I can handle it." She nudges his foot slightly with her own, her head cocked with concern. "Are you okay...after everything today? First with Katherine and now with this Anyanka thing?"
He stretches his legs out, pulling hers into his lap. "It's nothing. I haven't even seen Anyanka in...twenty years at least."
"It looked like you guys had fun. It was a gorgeous picture," Elena points out. "Like something from an old movie."
Damon laughs bitterly. "I know that picture looks all glitz and glamour, but really it was a lot uglier than that. Anyanka and I weren't friends. We didn't even like each other very much. She was all about retribution for scorned women and I was all about... scorning them."
"So why—" Elena starts, puzzled.
"I hated everything then," Damon interjects. "I was so angry about what happened to Katherine that I just wanted everyone to suffer as much as I did. And Anyanka was all about the vengeance. So sometimes she'd show up, we'd spend a few days in a haze of sex and blood. Then she'd be off again. That's all it was really. Hate sex and vengeance."
"Oh."
"It would have been interesting to see what she was like as a human though," he muses. "She always was wicked clever."
"Maybe you could ask Xander?" Elena proposes timidly. "Or any of them really. They obviously knew her."
Damon shrugs. "It doesn't matter. It's all in the past anyways." He lifts her legs off his lap and sets them gently back on the ground. "Let's go inside. It's cold."
He holds out a hand to pull her up and she takes it, twining her fingers in his as they set out to face whatever their ghosts their evening might hold.
A/N: I'm thinking this will be the last really long chapter. I'd like to start making them shorter but hopefully more frequent from this point on. How do you all feel about that? Thank you to Skye for the beta and for everyone who has read/reviewed/followed etc. You are all such wonderful people and I truly appreciate all your feedback and support! Stay tuned for the Anya ritual and Elena's training with Buffy : )