Chapter Thirty-Nine: One Step Closer
I cannot take this anymore, saying everything I've said before
All these words they make no sense, I find bliss in ignorance
Less I hear the less you'll say. You'll find that out anyway
Just like before everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge and I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe 'cause I'm one step closer to the edge
I'm about to break
~Linkin Park
She didn't hear Elena come in to her room, but suddenly Nilly was being shaken up out of her dreams. She groaned slightly trying to push Elena away, she wanted to go back to her actually pleasant dream. But still she was being forced to wake up.
Nilin's eyes opened and she looked up at a red eyed Elena. Nilly scooted up on the bed, now facing her. "Elena? What time is it?" she yawned, rubbing her eyes.
"It's three in the morning," she answered in a horsed voice. Why was she waking her up so early? If the sun wasn't up, neither should be Nilin.
"Why are you waking me up at three in the morning?" Nilly asked, finally pulling out of sleep. Elena shook her head, gripping Nilly's hand. Panic shot through her veins as worst case scenarios began to roll through her mind.
"Can you just come downstairs for a little?" Elena asked softly. Nilly nodded, her mouth slightly opened with confusion. She slid out of bed and pulled her cardigan around her. As Nilin stepped out of her room into the lit hallway, she saw the bedroom doors open and heard murmuring downstairs.
Nilly followed Elena down the steps slowly, feeling as if she was sleep waking. Everything moved in a dream like state. Elena led her into the family room, as a strange surreal feeling began to take over. Turning the corner, Nilly's eyes flashed over Jenna on the couch the phone to her ear. Alaric was there sitting next her, a hand on her back. Jeremy was sitting on the arm chair, his elbows on his knees as his head stayed down. Nilly took in the crumpled tissue in Jenna's hand, the sober pained look on Alaric's face and the quiet stillness that fell over the room as she entered. No one looked up at her.
She was sitting now, unsure of when she decided to do that. Her eyes slowly swept over the scene in front of her, feeling as if she was detached from it all, watching from the sideline. Elena was sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of Nilly, taking Nilin's hands in her own.
"Nilly…" she said her name slowly, causing Nilly's attention to snap back on her. "Something happened." Nilly stared at her silently, not understanding any of this. Or not wanting to. "You're dad…" Elena choked out. Nilly shook her head, pulling out of Elena's hands.
"No… No…" she stammered.
"It was a heart attack, Nilly." Elena continued, tears sweeping down her cheeks. "Mildred found him, but it was too late. She tired to, the doctors tried to... they couldn't get him back." Elena forced the words out as if Nilly was listening. She wasn't, her head was shaking back and forth, uttering 'no' over and over again.
"What are you saying? Stop, Elena this isn't funny." Nilin nearly shouted.
"Nilin, he's—" Elena tried to speak.
"No, stop. Shut up, Elena!" Nilly yelled. She was on her feet now, walking over to the wall. Her hands went racking through her hair. Her head still shaking as she forced the thought out of her head.
Her body shuddered as she heard Jenna sob into Alaric's shoulder and Jeremy stood, quickly turning to the window. She watched them as Elena, continued to try to get through to her , but if she didn't think of it, it couldn't be real. She looked up at Elena, who was watching her intently.
"He passed away, Nilly," she said softly and then it hit Nilin. She let out something that can only be described as a wale as she sunk to the floor. Gripping the roots of hair as the tears came, shaking her body. Her heart was cracking, she was sure of it. Her own heart attack, what else could the piercing pain in her chest be? Her sobs grew louder as her entire world crashed around her.
"He promised me, he promised…" she gasped between sobs. Arms came around her, Nilly leaned her head on Elena 's shoulder. Then she felt Jeremy sink on the other side of her as he rested his hand on top of Nilly's knee. All of them crying, living in a state of horrific remembrance.
Memories came flying back to Nilly of her mother's last days, her funeral, the eulogy Nilly gave, the song she sang as they lowered her into the ground. Nilly had done the same thing at her Aunt Miranda's and Uncle Grayson's funeral and now she would have to do that all over again.
"He can't be dead." Nilin mumbled. "He can't."
In the morning, news would have gotten around. Jack Gilbert had died, leaving his already instable daughter behind. People would be coming to the house, asking with somber voice's what they could do as they dropped off tins of food, casseroles, cakes. All with some desperate hope that their family's chili recipe could revive the dead.
Whispers and rumors will start. The women down at the flower shop saying one thing to the butcher and him telling his wife who runs a book club every Thursday evening. That's how it was in a small town and Nilly would have to go through all of it again.
They all sat like that until the orange glow of the sunrise peaked over the horizon. It would be a beautiful July day in Mystic Falls .
They say there are five stages of grief. Nilly was still only in the first one: Denial & Isolation. When the first of the condolence calls came in was when she somehow made her way up to the bedroom. Locking the door behind her, she collapsed on the bed. She didn't move, she didn't cry.
Her hands were trembling though, but she didn't think much about that. Knocks came on her door, she didn't answer. More frantic banging, and then the huff of frustration at her lack of response. Eyes looked on the wall across from her, legs dangling off the bed slightly, hair tangled behind her. That's how she laid there, unmoving.
Nilly knew they were putting together plans downstairs, calls were being made, information being spread. She knew she should be helping with that, but she couldn't move from her spot. If she stayed here she'd eventually wake from this nightmare.
Completely numb, that's how she felt. She wasn't tired, hungry, cold or hot. She didn't want a blanket or a glass of water. The only thing she was feeling was the dull pain in her chest that came with each heart beat. Thoughts swirled through her head as reality tried to fight its way in, but it was fighting a losing battle.
It was impossible what they told her. Her father wasn't dead, he didn't have a heart attack. He was back in Hopesville, heading home from the law firm he worked at. He'd come home to where Mildred was cooking dinner. He'd be sitting in his recliner, watching the baseball game. Nilin knew that was true. Her dad wasn't on some medical slab, or in some wooden box. That's impossible.
The knocking on her door happened less often as the sky outside grew darker. The sun set threw strange shafts of light into the room and Nilly swore they were moving. Her dad used to tell her stories of pixies that flew around the house, hiding his keys or unplugging the vacuum while he was cleaning. He used to say that you could only see them right before the sun rose or the sun set.
She wondered if the pixies were in the light of the sunset, if they knew that the one who told her about them was no longer here. And with that thought the levers broke, reality finally sinking into her brain. She turned over on her stomach and pressed her face into the mattress as she let out a scream that left her breathless. Nilly had reached stage two of grief: Anger.
She sat up on the bed, her skin was hot and the tears burned down her cheeks. Biting down on her lip, she tried to stop herself for shrieking again. Nilly spotted the bottle of whiskey she had confiscated from a drunken Damon last night, it was laying on its side. Not enough liquid left in it to spill out, but enough to make Nilly get up and walk over to it. She grabbed the bottle and slumped down on the floor, pulling her knee's to her chest. She looked at the bottle in her hands, glaring at it.
This was the reason her father was dead, because he couldn't stop drinking. Even after he promised her he'd get better, after he swore everything would be fine. He lied to her and now he was gone. Nilly stared at the alcohol with disgust, then in one swift movement she threw her head back swallowing a mouth full. It burned its way through her body, tingling her stomach.
She lean her head back on the wall, eyes squeezed shut. Soon the bottle was empty, but it wasn't enough to dull any of the pain. It barely made her tipsy. Nilly stood up, leaving the bottle on the floor and headed for the bathroom.
She turned the shower on as hot as it could go and stripped her pajamas. Standing under the steamy water, Nilly leaned her head on the shower wall and let the water pelt her back. The water ran cold and she switched the water off. Drying herself with a towel she stepped out of the bathroom and dressed in a blur.
The picture frame on the nightstand caught her eye. Nilly walked towards it and gripped it in her hand. Peering down at it her eyes glazed with tears. [Then in one swift movement] With out thinking, she sent it hurtling towards the other side of the room. It slammed into the wall, glass shattering. Nilly slid down onto the floor, leaning her head on the side of the bed as the frantic knocking started again.
Stefan never felt so exhausted before. He had spent the day at the Gilbert house, doing what he could to help. Elena had cried for a while, the pain in her eyes haunting. Stefan knew the tears were for her Uncle, but the pain was for Nilly. He hadn't seen her the entire day and that worried him greatly. She refused to open her door, so everyone just let her be. He wanted to help though, someway.
So he headed back home to the boarding house. The moment he opened the door, he was struck with the sickly tempting smell. His jaw began to ache as he made his way into the living room. He stopped, crossing his arms over his chest.
The music was pounding, the air held the smell of liquor and blood and he had found the source. Damon sat, draped on the couch with his face smothered in to a blonde's neck. He had another one on the other side of the couch and two very drunk girls dancing behind him.
Stefan cringed inwardly as the ache in his jaw grew. He walked over and turned off the stereo. Damon's head slid up from the girl's jugular as he turned to find Stefan.
"No," he wined. "Buzzkill Bob." The girls around him giggled as Stefan just glared. "Greetings," Damon smiled, throwing his arms around the girls on the couch.
"Can we talk?" Stefan asked.
"Yeah," Damon answered with no indication of getting off the couch.
"Without your human mini-bar." he pushed. Damon just stared at him with a drowsy look on his face as he flashed him a toothy grin.
"Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of them. They're really good at keeping secrets." The girls giggled again.
"Damon," he said in a strained tone. And with a groan, Damon got off the couch and stumbled towards him. Stefan stood by the back corner next to the large stain glass window and Damon squinted his eyes at the light as he went over.
"You're worried about me, that's nice. Don't be," he said, eyeing Stefan. "There's no need, I'm fine." Damon smiled throwing his hands in the air. "Why wouldn't I be? Spent the last 145 years with one goal, get in that tomb. I succeeded," he paused. "Granted, Katherine wasn't in there to be rescued, by why dwell?"
Stefan went to say something, but Damon cut him off. "No, it's so liberating not having a master plan, because I can do whatever the hell I want," he continued.
"That's kind of what I'm afraid of." Stefan mumbled. Damon laughed, swaying a little.
"Relax," he grinned, placing a hand on Stefan's shoulder. "I haven't killed anyone in—" he thought for a moment. "— too long."
"Those girls?" Stefan asked, indicating his own personal sorority group.
"Will end up in their dorm with headaches, thinking they blacked out. Business as usual." Damon shrugged, reaching for a bottle of bourbon behind him. "Predictable you didn't pull me over here for a pep talk," he eyed Stefan. "So drink up. Spill it, brother." Damon raised the bottle, downing a gulp.
Stefan groaned, he couldn't believe he was actually going to ask him this. "Something happened to Nilly," he said slowly. Damon tensed up, detaching the bottle from his lips. "I think you should go talk to her," Stefan continued with a sigh. Damon's eyebrows shot up.
"I thought you were all for me putting miles between us," Damon glared curiously. Stefan clenched his jaw, the only reason he was doing this was because Elena thought it was the only way to get Nilly out of her bedroom. But Stefan feared what would happen if Damon was in this kind of state.
"I'm giving you two options, Damon. You either keep your distance from her and leave her the hell alone or actually do something with your miserable self and talk to her." Stefan roared. His brother's glare hardened as he took another sip from the bottle and Stefan knew he hand hit a nerve. "It's important," he said more calmly.
"Nothings important, not anymore," Damon smirked. "Great chat," he stared to back away. "I have to go exploit some women in the name of grief, which I'm sure you understand," he said heading over to the couch. Stefan balled his hands into fist and left the room.
Author's Notes:
Hey guys! Happy Friday! Classes have been running me to the ground but I'm here, on schedule, and with a new chapter! Not the happiest chapter, I know. Nilin and Damon are both having a really really crappy time. Tell me what you guys think is going to happen and how our favorite duo will get through this. I will see all you lovely people on Monday! Have a fabulous weekend everyone :)
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RLS