So, I'm back, and this time I've REALLY brought a cliffhanger with me… but I really thought it was best to end the chapter were I did^^.
Thank you, Avecia my dear, for the excellent beta work.
And a bow to all my readers and reviewers.
So, without further ramblings, on with it. (Oh… I still don't own anything about VD)
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
It seemed to take an eternity to get back to the Gilbert house – the term 'tunnel vision' got a whole new meaning for him. It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.
Elena was a dead weight in his arms – literally – and the way her body was all limp was the cruellest thing imaginable. Her head was bent back, and one of her arms dangled down, refusing to stay on top of her.
But the worst were her eyes. He should've just closed them, but somehow he just couldn't bring himself to do that. To imagine never seeing them again…
He finally reached the porch of Elena's home and was about to enter it, when he found he was unable to do so.
Taking her inside there would mean to let her out of his arms. And he wasn't ready to do that just yet.
So he laid her down on the bench and scooted her head up, placing it on his lap.
He stroked her hair, pulled the wrinkles out of her clothes and simply watched her. How the hell did that happen? Just yesterday his only problem was that bitch Isobel and her loud mouth.
But now… now everything was confusing, his whole world ripped off its axis, spinning out of control with every passing hour.
"You know, I once thought that I have all the time in the world. I'm a vampire – I don't get older, I don't get sick… if I don't make the wrong enemies, I have eternity at my feet. And it never crossed my mind that the same wasn't true for you. Not once. I mean… I always knew you were human… it was painfully obvious, most of the time. But nevertheless the fact that you couldn't cheat on time slipped my mind. So I riled you up, just to see you angry, made jokes so you laughed and tried to be your friend. Because I had all the time I needed – I just had to wait for my brother to slip up again… and be there to pick up the pieces. But this… this I'm not able to repair.
I really love you, you know? I always thought that love was supposed to make everything… easy. But in reality it makes everything that much harder – but you want to try anyway, because in the end it'll be worth it.
But now I'll never know, huh? I'm sorry I couldn't protect you…"
He looked up from Elena's face as he heard the front door open – it was Jeremy.
He still looked very pale, with deep circles under his eyes. But at least he lost the madman glimmer in his eyes, and wasn't raging anymore.
"So… you found her? Why is she asleep out here?"
He noticed the wrinkled paper in Jeremy's hand – he obviously went to investigate after Damon stormed into his room the last time, for the paper was the note Elena had left.
But before he could think how to explain that she wasn't actually sleeping, the boy crossed the few steps between the door and the bench and looked down at his sister.
For the second time that night the little piece of paper fluttered to the floor, as is slipped out of Jeremy's slackened grip.
His eyes were wide – comically so - and his mouth opened and closed a few times, without an understandable word leaving it.
Then he crashed to his knees and took one of Elena's hands into both of his.
The coldness of the skin finally pulled him out of his stupor, and he frantically began to search for a pulse on her wrist.
And Damon just sat and watched, not able to speak any consoling words.
Finally, after a few minutes of trying to get a reaction out of Elena, the boy gave up.
Her hand still clutched in his he broke down in sobs, muttering the occasional 'I'm sorry, I love you, please wake up' along the way.
Damon knew he should do something, anything. Try to talk to him, tell him to slow it down - at this rate, they would alarm the neighbours – or simply go inside with the two of them.
Also, there was this part of him that screamed to just rip the boy apart. Only hours before he practically told Elena to just go and die – but he knew from experience that one never meant any harm to come to a sibling. Not really, at least.
So in the end he did nothing. Just let the boy have his breakdown.
An hour later a car pulled up in front of the house – the teacher brought Jenna back home from… wherever he took her.
The only thing he could remember later was a lot of screaming and even more tears – and that he wished, for the first time in forever, that his brother was here.
Stefan would know the right words to soothe the pain of these people. He would be gentle and understanding… would swallow his own anguish and be there for Elena's family.
But he wasn't Stefan – never would be – so he did as best as he could, even if it wasn't nearly enough.
Xoxoxoxo
The rest of the week went by in a blur. Between recounting the night to the teacher and his brother – after said brother was done with breaking everything in the boarding house that was in his reach and having his own mental breakdown – feeding the council a fitting story, act surprised as they found the corpse of John Gilbert and try to stay sober, there wasn't much time to really think.
And now he stood at the edge of a freshly dug up grave.
He stood in the front row, right beside Stefan and Elena's family, and tried to listen to what the preacher had to say. But in reality he couldn't care less. He had lost his faith in god a long time ago – if he really existed, he wouldn't be so cruel.
But he spoke up at the right times anyway, and as it was over, he gave his condolences to Jenna and Jeremy and got the hell out of there.
He couldn't stand it even a minute longer. All those people, silently sniffling or even outright crying… None of them knew anything.
But now that this week-from-hell was finally over – no more expectations, no more explaining… now he could finally wallow in his own self-pity.
He flung his tie and coat in a corner, took a random bottle of something that burned his throat, and turned the music to ear-splitting volumes.
xoxoxoxo
He had no idea how he had made his way over here. As the alcohol finally had made it out of his system, he found himself wandering aimlessly through the graveyard.
It was the first time he had left the house since the funeral a few days earlier, but he couldn't find it in him to care.
But as it was in the middle of the night, he could just go to… her… and sit there for a while.
The only problem was that he wasn't the only one with that idea.
"What the hell… Bennett?"
Yes, there she was. Bonnie Bennett, sitting inside a circle of candles, on the middle of the grave.
Candles?
As he made his way closer to her, he could see that it wasn't just candles.
The ground was cleared off of leaves and other interfering things. And made out of salt, he could make out weird symbols, and the candles gave off a nasty smell.
As a whole, this scene was greatly disturbing.
And the weird, monotonic chanting wasn't helping the matter a single bit.
Chanting… she isn't doing what I think she is doing… right?
"Witch."
"…und gib zurück was du genommen…*"
„Bennett."
„…leben nahmst du vor der Zeit…**"
„Bonnie!"
„What? Shut the hell up, I have to concentrate! "
Shaking his head, he tried to take another step closer… only to find that he couldn't.
Somehow her crazy little circle was hindering him to step inside of it.
"…Blut für Blut, Seele für Seele, ein Opfer sei gebracht…***"
The wind was picking up, howling nightmarishly around them, but somehow not disturbing the candles' flames.
And the faster the witch chanted, the more frantic he got. He knew what she was doing.
It didn't matter that he couldn't understand a word she was saying. Sitting by the grave of her best friend, in the middle of the night, chanting in a foreign language?
Not gonna end good.
"Listen wi… Bonnie. I want her back, too. God knows I do. But this is… you can't do this! You can't disturb the sleep of the dead! It's not meant to be. No matter what you bring back… it would not be Elena."
"…hör was ich sage, hör was ich will…****"
By now he was pounding on the invisible barrier in front of him. He couldn't let her do this. Whatever would come out of this grave, he'll have to fight it… and he wasn't sure he could fight something that once was Elena.
"Bonnie, please, don't."
But she just ignored him, and opened a clay urn. Instantly he could smell blood – the first time in his life glad it was animal, and not human.
With a gaze over her shoulder, eyes aflame with hope and desperation, she upended the urn.
The moment the blood splashed on the ground, the wind picked up, blew out the candles, and both him and Bonnie from their feet.
His head pounding – he must have hit it on something on his way down – he tried to stand up again.
He had to see with his own eyes what Bonnie had done.
But as he straightened up, the pounding got only worse. It had an odd, rhythmic… sound to it, pulsing in his temple and behind his eyes, and it made him so dizzy, that he had to sit down again.
He tried to see something, anything, but it was as if his whole being was packed in cotton wool.
He could see nearly to nothing, and the only thing he could hear was this odd pulsing – as if he had his head pressed right above a beating… heart.
"Oh hell…"
Was the last thing he said as everything got too much, and he was surrounded by sweet, all-encompassing blackness as he passed out.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Translations (If you haven't guessed by now, her spell is in German):
*…und gib zurück was du genommen… - …and give back what you took…
**…leben nahmst du vor der Zeit… - …life you've taken before the time…
***…Blut für Blut, Seele für Seele, ein Opfer sei gebracht… -… Blood for blood, soul for a soul, a sacrifice shall be made…
****…hör was ich sage, hör was ich will… -… hear what I say, hear what I want…
Well, I've done my part, and now all you have to do is click on the little button and tell me what you think of this chapter^^.
So long,
Zora