Author's note: Hi everyone! Happy Leap Day! :D
Please accept my apologies for the excessive delays. It has been enormously busy lately – much more so than usual. But I continue to be wholeheartedly grateful for your attention and support; your beautiful reviews; and I appreciate them all very much. It's all so very lovely.
Elena was still reeling from her conversation with Damon from the night before. It was all she could do to stop the seemingly perpetual tremor in her heart every time he was around her. No, he was leaving in days. Stop, stop, she chided herself.
At least her massive hangover managed to temper some of her less-than-welcome feelings. Anna must be feeling absolutely fine, Elena thought with a scoff. She'd have to ask her why she's been out of touch all day later.
But this gave her more resolve than ever. She'd at least make sure that someone would find happiness in this whole crazy mess. Since Caroline showed clear interest in Stefan, Elena would make every effort to at least try to get him to give her a chance. That's why when they walked home from their group project session – this time at Amber Bradlee's house – she chanced to broach the topic.
"Where's Anna?" Stefan asked, finally breaking the silence. "It's not like her to not show up to work on the project, or to let me be alone with you," he added sulkily.
"I'm not sure," Elena said evasively, not sure how much Stefan actually knew about their plans to open the tomb and free Anna's mother, as well as his and Damon's sire, and love, she thought with a pang.
"Are you okay?" Stefan inquired, undoubtedly noticing the pained expression on her face, and completely misunderstanding its source.
"Matt mentioned that our football team's not doing too well this year," she said, injecting as much concern into her voice as she could, trying to steer the conversation in a direction that she could handle, and one that might prove beneficial for Caroline.
"Sorry to hear that," Stefan said indifferently, his gaze on her as intense as ever.
"You don't play by any chance, do you?" she asked slyly, knowing that a vampire's supernatural abilities would be almost too useful on the football field.
"I did, but I can't sign up, Elena," he replied with a trace of a laugh.
"Why not?"
"Because it'd be cheating. I'm so much stronger, faster –"
"Then just don't use superhuman strength or speed or reflexes," she argued. "Come on, Stefan. Mystic Falls High needs you!" she retorted with sardonic cheer, mimicking the cheesy recruitment posters plastered all over the school's walls at the start of every year, beckoning young hopefuls to join the varsity team. "Don't you want to reach your Mystic High?" she asked with a playful bit of needling, by now sure that the slogan was a whimsical relic of some of the more psychedelic aspects of '60s counterculture.
"I'll think about it," he replied with a genuine smile.
"That's all I ask!" Elena chirped with a profound sense of relief, neglecting to mention that she planned to quit the squad before the next practice session. As the head cheerleader, Caroline, however, would undoubtedly spend a lot of time with him, and perhaps this way, he'd be forced to see some of her virtues – to see the veritable force of nature brimming beneath the ball of insecurity, fighting to come out.
Anna fiddled with her phone, tapping on its display nervously. She'd already delayed this conversation for days. Even tracking down what could be correct contact information took tremendous effort. And there's no guarantee that it was – it could be another dead end.
If this failed, she might have to take Damon up on his offer to visit some old flame of his in Atlanta since he swore up and down that this 'Bree' was a capable witch, and the last thing she wanted was to actually owe Damon Salvatore a favor, that smug bastard.
Gathering her resolve, she took a deep breath, punched the number into her phone and waited.
Aurelia Bennett had been an old friend of her mother's whom she'd met at the turn of the 16th century – a Bennett witch, freshly turned, cut off from Nature, the lifeforce that gave all her ancestors their magic.
Their tether to Magic, itself.
The woman had been heartbroken, left adrift, feeling like a piece of her soul was missing. Pearl had put her back together as best she could, helping her find purpose in her new existence.
When they last spoke, only a few years before the debacle in Mystic Falls, Aurelia boasted that she took Pearl's guidance about inner peace and meditation to heart, opening a kind of retreat for vampires and other supernatural folk who were as lost as she had once been. She felt a calling to Mount Everest when she was a living witch – and thus created a magically cloaked rehabilitation center there, high on the mountain. The witches she'd befriended in this endeavor, who saw the wisdom in teaching normally traumatized and violent vampires, witches, and werewolves the value of inner peace, worked together to protect it from the elements, shroud it in secrecy, and make it a place of healing.
As far as Anna knew, it was the only kind of vampire-witch-werewolf cooperation of its kind.
A few years after her mother had been locked away in the tomb, Aurelia had come to visit, claiming that one of the Center's witches saw an unusual flurry of energy around this area – that it had been visited by doppelgängers, in whom Anna noticed that the Bennett vampire took a particular interest, though she wouldn't say why. Devastated to learn about Pearl's fate, as well as that of her descendant, Emily, she merely told Anna to call her when the time came to release them.
Anna paid little heed to the notion of doppelgängers, herself, until she met Elena. Her first reaction upon seeing Katherine Pierce's exact physical replica had been bafflement, followed by contempt, finally easing into curiosity. Now that she'd become friends with the girl in question, Anna couldn't help but worry about the greater implications of the 'doppelgänger prophecy' that Aurelia had only mentioned once in passing, without revealing any details.
The contact information that she left had been unreliable at best, however, since the mysterious Center of Serendipity where she made her home had all sorts of magical enchantments placed on it, and it would appear that Aurelia Bennett couldn't be reached unless she expressly wished it so.
Anna had certainly tried over the years. The original address Aurelia had given her yielded absolutely nothing, except the lingering suspicion that a connection had to be forged by magic. The various phone numbers she'd attained in subsequent years had all either been disconnected or attached to shady shell companies, corporations, and not particularly pleasant private citizens.
With a reticent sigh, she tried again.
And again, she got a disconnected number. Nothing. She was seconds away from ripping the paper up in frustration, when an equally exasperated Bonnie Bennett entered her house, loudly slamming the door behind her.
"Grams is being so stubborn!" the witch complained. "I barely brought the idea up to her before she shot it down."
"That's what I was afraid of," Anna said, deflating. "I wanted to get you some back-up from an old friend of my mom's, but it doesn't look like the contact info is any good, as usual," Anna lamented, vaguely gesturing to the crumpled-up paper on her coffee table.
Noah was out. Pity. Maybe with the mood Bonnie was in, she'd at least have given him an aneurism headache after he inevitably did something offensive, which would have entertained them both.
Bonnie picked up the paper, smoothing out its wrinkles, as her eyes suddenly widened in recognition. "This isn't a phone number, Anna," she breathed.
"What?" Anna asked dubiously from her position, lying upside down on the couch, her legs flipped over its back while her head dangled right above the floor. A sure sign of her irritation.
"Look!" Bonnie beamed, excitement returning to her voice. "Look at how symmetric these numbers are."
"So?"
"So! They're – you can think of them as Astral Coordinates."
Now with her curiosity piqued, Anna flipped to an upright position on the couch, Bonnie having her full attention.
"I've seen something like this in one of Grams' grimoires. They're directions on how to arrange candles – how many times to chant," she prattled on excitedly. "Grams once told me that this manner of communication is an old Bennett family secret."
Anna's breathing grew erratic in its excitement, as she leapt forward to envelop her friend into an enthusiastic hug. "Bonnie Bennett, you are a certifiable genius!"
Elena had been blundering her way through her English homework in a post-hangover daze, trying to complete her task for the group presentation on Plato's Symposium, when Anna unceremoniously flung her bedroom door open, her eyes wild with epiphany and wonder.
"We're set! she announced cheerfully, grabbing a cherry from the bowl Elena had in front of her.
"With the tomb?" Elena asked without looking up from her assignment, trying to work out the finer points of Aristophanes' speech about conjoined beings who were the precursors to soulmates despite her pounding headache. Maybe this wasn't the best time for deep analysis, she thought with a sigh, and finally closed the book with a huff, setting it aside to give Anna her undivided attention. Another, more errant part of her, felt that perhaps reading about love - even the fictionalized retelling of it by a comic poet within a philosophical work - would do absolutely nothing to ease the rising heartache that she fought to will away.
"Yep," Anna declared, oozing satisfaction as she smacked her lips around another cherry. "An old friend of my mom's going to come to town with some witches to help Bonnie out. They're leaving tomorrow, so in a few days, it'll all be over."
Elena just nodded, the conflicting emotions within her - at once elated at the thought of Anna finally being reunited with her mother, and utterly deflating at the idea of Damon leaving town, with ... She shook her head subtly, trying to shake the thought loose, when another promptly took its place. Wait a minute -
"How do you think he knew we were coming?" Elena asked, suddenly sitting pin-straight and alert.
"Who?" Anna asked with distinct confusion, before her eyes rolled of their own accord, by now used to this. Of course. "Ugh, Damon? I don't know. Paranoia? Predisposition to being annoying? Alcohol radar?"
"I'm serious!" Elena sat up even straighter, practically jumping in her seat in her excitement. "Think about it. You told me you couldn't find the bourbon - and at the pageant, you know what he said to me?" Anna raised an eyebrow, indulging her excitement for a few seconds, all the while secure that Damon would be gone within days, so it didn't matter, anyway. "He said something about not 'kowtowing to the patriarchy.' Anna, that's your phrase!"
Anna stayed quiet for a long moment, mulling this over. "That fucking prick. He's been using his familiar to spy on us?"
"We have to get him back!" Elena replied with a little too much excitement and joy, Anna thought.
"And I know exactly how," Anna smirked mischievously, leaning forward conspiratorially to let Elena in on her scheme.
Damon was riding on an enormous high. After 'convincing' Zach – through threat of enormous bodily harm – to quietly take a sabbatical from the Founders Council and nominate Damon to take his place, his infiltration had been an even bigger success than he could have ever imagined. Turning on the charm so early in his arrival with Carol Lockwood, Peggy Fell, and the rest of the so-called 'Founding Femmes' had ensured a warm reception, simperingly jealous husbands aside, and all he had to do was tolerate a few judgmental clucks and tuts of 'what has the world come to' – self-righteousness dressed as faux sympathy. He was all-too familiar with that refrain, having Lily Salvatore for a mother.
Come to think of it, Stef would probably fit right in. Maybe his broody bro should take his place when he and Katherine jet off in a few days, leaving this town and everyone in its circle of self-importance behind for good, he thought with a snicker.
And then a surprisingly sharp stab of pain at the thought that he immediately brushed away. No, he needed to get away from everyone in this place – everyone.
What the fuck happened to him last night with Elena? He could practically feel his humanity slithering to the surface, the switch nothing but a shoddy ornament made of cheap plaster, as the empathy inside him boomed past all defenses. After Anna confronted him – made him realize, in her obnoxious and super-annoying way – that he was starting to genuinely care about the girl, he had to get out.
Get out and prove her wrong.
So, he took a little trip to the nearest city and indulged the vampire within. No snatch-eat-erase this time. That wasn't good enough after Anna's gutting accusation - after Elena's piercing insinuations about the man inside that at once gripped him with fear and filled him with sweetest elation. No, this time, he needed to rip some throats out, and shove that empathy far down where it belonged.
Nothing was going to make him turn it back on. Nothing. Not even Katherine. She'd probably like this ruthless version of him more, anyway – she did hint at her annoyance with the soft and tender nature of his human heart often enough. He vividly recalled the deep ache in his heart when he overheard his vampiric love callously tell Emily that Damon loved her 'too much' – how sick she was of his open devotion. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut, like a good toy? All she wanted him for was blood and sex, anyway. And to make Stefan jealous.
At the time, the human felt his heart shatter under the cruelty of her words. The vampire now simply took the lesson to heart. He loved Katherine, but she wouldn't see his humanity again. It would be better for everyone this way. Maybe this way, she could finally love him – finally choose him.
Someone would finally choose him. Would finally love him.
Maybe at least this version of him would be lovable.
Oh, who was he kidding? He knew nothing about him was lovable. There had to be a reason no one ever loved him, not really. That was all Stefan, he thought bitterly. Stefan was the beloved and treasured son, spared the cruelty of Giuseppe's fists, and cigars, and switches, and words – while Damon took all the punishments, sometimes voluntarily and sometimes not. He couldn't imagine a circumstance where his mother would allow Stefan to take the blame for her transgression, but she seemed entirely too eager to allow Damon to be burned and scarred for her theft.
It was Stefan who Katherine chose to escort her to the Founders' Ball. It was obviously him with whom her heart lay.
No, he wasn't lovable. But he wouldn't allow himself to get hurt again, either.
It was like Katherine said – as a human, all he was good for was blood and sex. As a vampire, he swiftly moved to the predator side of the blood equation.
The latter, he internalized enough to make it almost empowering. If that's the height of his worthiness, then he would own it. And that's how he deftly constructed his 'Eternal Stud' persona – chiseling away until it was all sultry blue eyes, piercing wit, and delectable swagger.
The consummate charmer.
And he would charm, seduce, banter, manipulate, hook-and-reel with the best of them. He'd be so alluring and desirable and good that he'd ruin any partner he had for anyone else. If all he was good for was sex, then it would be his weapon. If no one could ever love what was inside, they'd be begging for the Damon they could see, the physical perfection.
And with his empathy – his ability to love – safely tucked away, he couldn't even be bothered by it.
He knew that even like this, Katherine wouldn't love him. But at least without his humanity, he wouldn't really care as much. The rational side of him knew that only his ego would be bruised, and his heart would be safe from any pain.
Besides, the deep swells of emotion that came with his humanity opened him up to enormous amounts of pain. And he knew entirely too well just how much Katherine could hurt him - how much she almost took delight in the power it wrought.
But being around Elena almost seemed to heal that pain. When she would look at him, he could swear she could see past the –
He scoffed. Why was he thinking this way? It's gotten so bad that even the thought of Elena was enough to give his humanity a fighting chance. If he was smart, he'd have ripped her throat out long ago – or at least stayed the hell away from her – far away.
And yet, he couldn't.
He was drawn to her like a magnet – like she was his other half - longing to be whole again. Whenever he was around her, it's like he lost all power to keep his empathy bottled deep within. He wanted to protect her, to soothe her, to make her laugh. She had such an infectious laugh, he thought with a wistful smile, before he caught himself.
He longed to bring back the girl who was hiding behind the thick veil of survivor's guilt – the one he met on the forest road months ago – with her joyful curiosity, and endless well of empathy, and the keen insight that almost seemed to peer within to see real him, despite all efforts to hide him behind thick, impenetrable walls.
Mostly, he just wanted her to be happy.
It was with that disturbing realization that he went off the rails the night before, leaving several drained bodies outside a club in Richmond. He wondered idly what their version of 'animal attack' was, but he honestly couldn't be bothered to care all that much.
He grudgingly saw the logic in leaving Mystic Falls out of last night's killing spree, with the Council of Bigots being in seemingly perpetual moderate alert, spooked so easily that it would take only a cursory mention of the word, 'vampire,' to get that vigilance up to sky-high status.
It gained him some interesting information, as well. Happily, the Council still had no idea that day walkers existed, and he was overjoyed to instill the correctness of that claim. Because of his tiny spree when he first entered the town, however, they were already suspicious of a vampire in town. The couple that he killed on his way back in, mostly to frame Stefan and chase him out before rescuing Katherine, so he wouldn't be in the way, had the requisite marks on their bodies to make them paranoid.
On top of that, he learned of plans to assemble a compass to detect vampires. That could prove to be problematic, so he'd have to ensure that it couldn't be assembled until after the tomb was open, and he and Katherine were safely out of the way. The only remaining piece was the Gilbert watch.
With his best – and quite successful – attempt at guileless eyes, he assured them that he would be on top of retrieving the required artifact for assembly. After all, he and Elena had become friends. The truth of that statement still baffled him.
The heaps of praise he received for the reassurance stroked the diabolical aspects of his ego, practically purring at those idiots' acquiescence. This was all too easy. He almost had them eating out of the palm of his hand when he suggested mixing vervain into all the champagne at forthcoming Founding Family functions to spot any wayward bloodsuckers who may have compelled their way into an invite.
Thanks for the idea, Stef, he thought with a laugh. Now Skulking Inquisition's somehow even more self-righteous incarnate would have to deal with it.
Yes, Damon felt great - in fact, he felt so fantastic that he completely missed the tell-tale swoosh of a vampire's speedy entrance into the house as soon as he turned on the water.
Still whistling a merry tune, Damon stepped out of the shower, his ego and mood elevated to historic levels, only to immediately come crashing down again when he opened his closet door.
His designer shirts were missing. All of them.
His gorgeous, precious, beautiful John Varvatos tees, his Armani button-downs – no, no! Replaced by … flannel!? What the hell was going on? He looked on in horror, frozen for several whole seconds before a note left on his pillow caught his attention in his periphery. He slowly made his way over, lifting it, a tumult of emotion racing through his mind as he read.
Glacial Greetings!
Since you called Matt Donovan "Hallmark Chic," we thought we'd do you a favor and help you along with your full fashion make-over. Hope the self-proclaimed "Eternal Stud" likes his new wardrobe!
Frosty Regards,
A and E
P.S. We left a little something for Doctor Kaw-Kaw, too! Our favorite little corvid spy.
He practically crushed the adorable, tiny sweater, with "My Humanoid is a Vain Douche" stitched onto its center in his hand.
He had to hand it to them. This, he didn't see coming. Maybe when he fixed this fashion emergency, he'd even be amused by it. But for now, he was utterly horrified.
He growled and laughed and growled away as he blurred into Stefan's room, just as its owner strolled in casually.
"What in blazes are you doing to my closet, Damon?" Stefan raged, alarmed by the veritable inferno rampaging through his things.
"Settling for what's available," Damon replied distractedly, pulling out a black tee and leather jacket. This would have to do. He pulled it on, only to wince at the tight fit around his shoulders. "Pro tip: if you don't want to look like an extra on A Requiem for a Dream, maybe diversify your diet from forest creatures exclusively."
"What the hell? Get out of my room, and give me back my stuff!"
"You'll get your stuff back as soon as I fix this Fashion Don't. Oh, those two are going to pay," he grinned, already conniving his next scheme, as he blurred into his Camaro and took off toward Richmond.
After all, what good was a vengeance scheme if he didn't look tantalizing in the process?
Poor Damon – left with a perfect replica of Matt's wardrobe. And an obnoxious little outfit for his familiar. What ever will he do? :D
Regarding Damon's mentality – this was more or less me extrapolating from what we've been given in canon. We know he's really fussy (materialistic) about his stuff, what with his emphasis on his John Varvatos shirts, referring to himself as the "Eternal Stud," playfully begging Vicki not to bleed on his precious furniture. His physical appearance means a lot to him, almost to the point of vanity. My interpretation was always that Damon likes outer-Damon very much - he considers himself to be very charming and attractive, worthy of being liked - and he absolutely loves showing off. But he hates inner-Damon, and doesn't consider himself worthy of love. And this is something that he needs to work on to grow.
We see a similar attention to appearance in Elijah, as well, but the motivation is completely different. Elijah's need to always look neat and orderly comes from trauma (as revealed in TO S2 episode, "The Red Door"). Esther told him to clean himself up after he killed Tatia, and that's how he locks things away behind the red door. It's how he keeps the monster away.
With Damon, I think this was intended to be played for laughs – as in, ahaha, look at how funny it is that this guy cares more about his rug than this bleeding girl (which it kind of is :D), but I thought it would be fun to give him a reason for it, as well. Katherine made him feel small, implying that his physique is all that's worthwhile about him, probably echoing thoughts he already had given his own belief at his unworthiness of love thanks to his awful folks, so he decided to make it so big and important to overshadow everything else, since he at least felt that this part of him was deserving of being liked, if not loved.
Anyone that's read Serendipity should have some idea of who Aurelia Bennett is. For everyone else, she'll be what I hope is a lovely surprise. :D
Happiness and love to all. :D
