I'm finally back home and with my laptop within reach, so you guys get a chapter fresh out of the doc.
Enjoy!
September 15th, 2009
Parking his Jeep by the entrance of the Salvatore mansion was incredibly relieving for Stiles, especially after the past two days. The shopping spree had taken a lot out of him already, and Monday as a whole hadn't exactly helped, especially since Care insisted on picking his outfit and he felt like he was being stared at all throughout the day. Then in the afternoon came cheerleader practice, which he actually enjoyed since they skipped pyramids and actually trained some movements and a couple of throws, but still drained his social battery to the point of having to leave early to cook dinner just to enjoy some alone time. He still endured another full day of classes but, with the afternoon free, his first thought was to text Stefan for permission to stop by the Salvatore library. He could definitely do with being surrounded by books instead of people for a couple of hours, and thankfully Stefan doesn't seem inclined to stop him even after the little dinner incident.
"Did you text me from around the corner?" Stefan asks him with veiled amusement as he opens the door.
"Nah," Stiles steps past the doorway and throws the other teen a sheepish smile, "from two streets away."
Stefan shakes his head and closes the door behind them as they walk further into the house. Stiles is pleasantly surprised to find his little research corner right as he left it, with the exception of a couple of yellow post-its glued to books where there hadn't been any last time.
"I'll leave you to it, just yell when you're leaving," Stefan requests, to Stiles' satisfaction, and leaves him alone in the library after he agrees.
He kicks off his sneakers for the sake of comfort and is immediately grateful for having stood his ground today and vetoed Caroline's choice of clothing. Skinny jeans may highlight his assets as she put it, but his loose cargo pants were much more comfortable for sitting on the library floor for an extended period of time. And hey, he'd still done as she wanted and ditched the plaid for a bit, instead picking out a random - correctly sized - shirt and wearing his new red leather jacket since according to his cousin, red is his color. He also takes off said jacket and drapes it over the back of the library couch before retaking his spot in front of the center table, crisscrossed legs tucked halfway under it and back leaning on the couch.
The first post-it his eyes land on makes him huff in amusement and he immediately realizes they were probably left by Damon. He wouldn't have pegged the man for a bibliophile but by the time he reads the seventh lazily scrawled sarcastic comment glued on top of a supposedly wrong passage of a book along with the recommended reference for the correct information, he figures the older Salvatore has probably read all of the books he's looking into already, and then some. It doesn't stop him from finishing it though, just to form his own opinion, but he appreciates the effort and gathers the post-its on the side for later reference.
By the time he realizes a break is needed if only to stretch his legs, he's speed-read through four more books and discarded all but one as entirely useless, though the useful one is mostly historical and nothing actually witchy enough to bring to Bonnie's attention. He stands up with a groan before he can get distracted by another book and takes a walk through the library to get the pins and needles feeling out of his leg. A couple of glances at the bookshelves have him picking up another title or two he hadn't looked at before and dropping them at the table for later, but nothing that looked too promising.
He's walking past the sideboard behind the couch when it occurs to him to snoop around. The last time he'd gone through the cabinets and drawers in the library has been years ago, but there is a chance he might find something useful somewhere, and if not then well, at least he'll have sated his curiosity. The top drawers don't exactly yield much, mostly writing tools and a couple of keys he guesses are of the library doors, but the cabinets under them actually contain books. Cookbooks, to be more accurate, which is probably why he didn't remember there being anything interesting in the cabinets, since the last time he looked inside them he hadn't been as interested in cooking as he is currently. Instead of ignoring the cookbooks, he actually pulls them out to inspect them, flipping through a couple of pages of each and setting any interesting-looking recipes to the side to photograph later.
Halfway through the pile, Stiles comes across a different book, leather-bound and old-looking, which he can tell doesn't contain recipes after glancing at the first few pages. Instead, it looks like the personal notes - very old ones judging both by the state of the book and writing style - of some sort of councilman, at least based on the mentions of town council meetings, or more likely a work of fiction that was never published if the mention of vampires is anything to go by. It's actually an interesting read, if you overlook the casual mentions of slavery cementing the setting as sometime in the 1800s, and he doesn't realize he's been sitting on the floor devouring page after page until the light sound of approaching footsteps pulls him from the imaginary world of a monster-hunting councilman and back to reality in time to spot Damon walking into the library.
"Back already, Stiles? Miss me much?" the older man teases, stopping in front of his rather unplanned reading spot, though his perpetually smarmy expression seems to falter at the sight of the book in his hands, "what have you got there?"
"No idea, but it's pretty interesting," Stiles replies, ignoring the teasing greeting, "looks old too, sorry if I wasn't supposed to touch it, I just found it with some cookbooks."
"You can touch anything you want," Damon emphasizes the innuendo with a wink, making Stiles's stomach flutter slightly in what he chooses to interpret as annoyance, or maybe a sign of future digestive issues. "If anyone minded, it wouldn't be in the library. Interesting, is it?"
"If you're into fantasy set in the 1800s," Stiles replies, pointedly ignoring the mock flirting that's most likely aimed at annoying him after his dinner ultimatum for the man to stop doing it to his cousin, "or need a vampire hunting manual."
"Vampire hunting?" There's something behind Damon's amused tone that makes Stiles' hairs stand on end, but he ignores the sudden goosebumps and holds out the book instead.
"The- main character, I guess, is some vampire-hating councilman that wants to kill all of them," he explains with a shrug and busies himself by glancing through the remaining cookbooks and placing the ones he has no interest in back into the cupboard.
"Huh," Damon hums as he reads from the page Stiles left off, something about visiting the apothecary for a herb that supposedly hurts vampires called vervain. The main character mentioned a Jhonathan Gilbert, the person that found out about the herb and told the council, which coupled with some other familiar surnames that had also appeared throughout the pages he'd read makes Stiles think the book is set in Mystic Falls, maybe close to the founding times. "Boring," the man decides, closing the book but not handing it back even after Stiles stands from the floor with a couple of cookbooks in hand.
"Better than glowy vampires," Stiles points out, still not over the Twilight. Caroline had tried to make him read the book but he'd put his foot down on that one, entirely uninterested in the fictional vampire-human-werewolf relationship drama, though he'd still caved to watching the movie that had come out the year before. Edward was an obsessive creep and that's all he said on the matter to avoid incurring his cousin's wrath, even if she proclaimed to be mostly team Jacob.
"Glowy vampires?" Damon's bewildered tone makes Stiles snort in amusement.
"Dude, you've never heard of Twilight?" Stiles isn't sure if he's surprised or jealous of Damon for having escaped that particular craze, "that stuff was everywhere, one of my teachers got so annoyed we ended up having to write an essay on werewolves versus vampires to get it out everyone's system."
"And which one did you pick?" the man asks curiously, leaning on the sideboard and focusing his attention on Stiles, looking way too interested in his reply.
"Vampire, obviously," he says with a shrug, "sure, turning into a wolf at will sounds cool and all, but imagine the stuff you could do with immortality. That's forever to travel the world, learn stuff, and meet interesting people. I mean, you'd need to avoid daylight or whatever, but come on, get a thick umbrella or just, change your sleep cycle or something."
"There's the small issue of feeding on people," Damon points out, looking entirely too amused at his answer.
"I'd just not kill them, it's not like it's a requirement," Stiles replies unphased, "besides, humans hunt every other animal, something ought to be above us in the food chain."
"Hm," Damon just stares at him for a moment, making him fidget at the undivided attention, before shaking his head in disbelief, "Any success on your witch hunt?"
"I got a bit sidetracked," he pointedly raises the cookbooks, "but thanks for the notes. Any chance you still feel like telling me about… Emily Bennett, was it?"
The older Salvatore only tilts his head slightly in consideration, glancing down at the book in his hand for a couple of seconds before looking back at Stiles, "Sure, why not?" he motions for him to follow and they end up back on the couches, with Damon sprawling over the armchair closest to Stiles' corner of the couch. "I think I actually read about her from a journal like this one," he holds up the one Stiles had been reading, "no idea where it ended up, but I remember it well enough."
September 16th, 2009
"You know, I feel like you're using me for my books," Damon quips as he walks into the library the next day to find Stiles once again immersed in research, this time with a notepad in hand and taking extensive notes.
"If anything I'm using Stefan for your books," Stiles replies absentmindedly without looking up, "you're just- here. All the time."
"It's almost like I live here," Damon deadpans, the tone making Stiles glance up from his current read looking slightly sheepish at the thoughtless comment, but not enough to act repentant about it. "I finished it, by the way," at Stiles' questioning look, Damon holds up the journal from yesterday.
"Anything interesting?" He questions, turning away from his research to look at the older Salvatore.
"Not much, but feel free to look for yourself," Damon places the journal on top of one of the book piles on the center table, "might catch something I missed."
"Thanks," Stiles smiles and reaches for the book, promptly locating the last page he'd read the day before and continuing where he left off.
"So, any luck?" the man asks, leaning on the side of the couch.
"If I wanted to write an essay for History class, sure. To give my friend witchy tips? Not really," Stiles informs with a sigh, "Google is just as unhelpful, most of the stuff is more wicca than witchcraft, and nothing against the triple goddess but a prayer and a spell are two different things."
"I suppose after the burnings, any real witches may have become even more secretive than they already were," Damon hypothesizes, earning an agreeing nod from Stiles.
"I did buy this book…" Stiles starts, a little unsure if he should mention his random impulse buy from the little antique shop in Lynchburg, but it had felt important, somehow, and even though he's got no business having any witchy feelings like Bonnie his instincts are still something he likes to follow more often than not.
"Oh?" Damon leans in slightly, clearly interested.
"It's not magic, more like a sort of plant encyclopedia, I guess?" His brows furrow slightly at the memory of the pages he'd glanced through, "but it's got weird uses in the notes, and it doesn't say the word but some of the things it references sure sound like spells, even if they're nowhere to be found in the rest of the book."
"Now that's interesting," the man hums in consideration, "think I could take a look at it?"
"Sure, yeah. I'll bring it next time I stop by," Stiles agrees easily, but a glance down at the journal has him looking up with a hopeful look, "and maybe I could borrow this?"
Damon takes a moment to consider before replying, "Fair enough, just don't damage it."
"I won't," Stiles assures.
They fall into a comfortable silence after Damon picks up one of the closed books on his pile to read, and it's only broken a while later by a familiar voice.
"Stiles?" Zach questions after walking into the library, "Stefan said you were around."
"Hey Uncle Zach," Damon greets before Stiles can open his mouth to reply, "I hope you don't mind that we gave Stiles here access to the library."
"Damon," Zach's voice seems to harden and Stiles looks between the two in disguised confusion. Stefan and Damon not getting along he could understand, chalk it up to sibling rivalry or something, but even their uncle? Living here must be loads of fun for the older Salvatore sibling. Before Stiles can offer to leave, Zach continues, "Stiles is always welcome, though I'd prefer if Stefan or I were around when he stops by."
"Stefan said the same thing," Stiles points out with a hint of curiosity, now wondering if their apprehension has less to do with the books and more to do with Damon since Zach had hardly minded leaving him to his reading before.
"You can see the family resemblance," Damon muses out loud and stands from the chair, stretching with a groan before sending Zach a smirk that Stiles can't quite interpret the reason for, "I'm going out to eat, there's nothing edible in this place."
"I take it Damon can't cook?" Stiles asks after the subject of his question has walked out of the room.
Zach takes a moment to realize he's being spoken to, "No, not that I know of," a more serious look takes over the man's expression as he approaches Stiles and lowers his voice, "You shouldn't be around Damon."
"Why's that?" He asks in genuine curiosity, wondering what could have made two of Damon's family members act like this in regard to him, especially Zach whom he's known for a while and had never before acted this way.
"He's bad news," Zach says simply, which clarifies absolutely nothing, "just- don't be alone with him."
"I appreciate the warning," Stiles says in a slightly colder tone, feeling strangely protective of his recent research buddy, "but I think I'd rather form my own opinion."
Zach only sighs, regarding him with a resigned look before shaking his head and moving back toward the entrance. "Be careful."
"I'm always careful," Stiles mutters with a roll of his eyes.
The phone is lying by his side on the bed, open in the contacts, his finger hovering over one in particular. Stiles selects it, an empty feeling immediately pooling in his stomach. It rings, and keeps ringing, before finally leading to the voicemail.
He doesn't leave one.
now that we all got our daily dose of Damon, time to write the next chapter XD I'll be trying my best to give Jeremy an actual personality (and the start of a goddamn support system) so wish me luck.
Also, I (miraculously) got tickets to The Eras Tour, so there will be less writing and more working 'till November so I can afford to fly out to the show lol.