Author's note: Thanks for the love, everyone! :D
I'm a little blocked on this story currently - as with Timey Wimey. By this, I mean that I know the broad strokes of each story - where each is meant to ultimately go, and how each character will develop. With that said, they're both in transitionary periods between two arcs, and I'm having a little difficulty navigating them with the requisite 'finesse' that I'd like to have. In other words, the bulk of my inspiration is currently flowing toward Eros and Philia and Random Walk. With that said, this isn't anything new for me. I work better when I'm writing multiple stories concurrently, as they all feed each other, so writing EaP and RW will help me ultimately navigate both WGP and TW better. :D
Thank you all for being utterly delightful. Your beautiful reviews bring with them a lot of inspiration and happiness, and I'm wholeheartedly grateful, truly.
After the initial few minutes of walking, everyone in the group seemed to have split off into smaller factions. Bonnie and Jeremy seemed deeply engrossed in conversation, almost bickering at times, and quietly resigned at others. Katherine tried to distance herself as much as possible, but Caroline – who wanted to find out as much about Silas and the danger he potentially posed to Stefan – made that impossible, by following the doppelgänger and hounding her with relentless questions, by which Katherine pretended to be annoyed to the best of her ability.
Elena couldn't help but feel concerned over Damon's sudden distance but felt as though it could be explained by the situation – perhaps it was nothing more than worry over his brother.
Damon was unusually quiet, his hold on Elena's hand was firm, but the clench of his jaw instantly suggested to her that something was wrong. Of course, given what they discovered about Stefan's whereabouts could easily account for his sudden change in mood.
And yet, she strongly suspected that there was more behind it than just that.
"Emma seems rattled," she confessed, sending out some feelers into his mood. "Your boys don't seem to be the most calming influence," she said with a knowing smirk, practically hearing Praxis and Poiesis kaw-kaw at the top of their avian lungs through her bond with her own familiar.
"They're on their way here," Damon admitted. "They'll hide in the trees and observe until we need them."
Elena squeezed Damon's hand in hers, leaning into him to take his whole right arm into her left to hug it to her chest. "We'll find him," she murmured into his shoulder, before nipping it playfully with her blunt teeth. She expected him to reciprocate – let her belief elevate him, feel more optimistic about the rescue – but it did nothing to dissipate his apparently somber mood.
"Why didn't you tell me about the dreams, Elena?" Damon finally asked after several more minutes of silence.
Elena winced, acutely aware that perhaps keeping this from him had been a bit of a misstep but given his reaction when she told him about that first dream – the flash of fear and pain on his face that he clearly tried to hide from her – she felt it best to just brush it off and chalk it up to a manifestation of her guilt. "I did once –"
"Exactly, once," he interrupted her, his voice clipped.
"And I could tell it hurt you –" she continued, undeterred.
"And I told you that I could handle it," he shot back. "You didn't have to lie to me, Elena," he added, his voice empty with resignation. "It raises the question of what else you've been hiding."
"What are you talking about?" she queried with a worried edge to her tone, suddenly frightened of the calmness in his demeanor, how the fight seemingly went out of him.
Damon shut his eyes briefly, as though trying to will himself to face the inevitable, then schooled his impression to one of almost nonchalance. He stopped suddenly, turning to face her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them lightly, beckoning her attention. The look in his cerulean eyes was scrutinizing, searching – but otherwise unreadable, Elena thought to her dismay. "Look, we'll save Stef, Elena," he told her, his voice deceptively reassuring, a bit too light and airy. Anything he actually felt was hidden between titanium walls, built with the expertise of a lifetime deflection courtesy of quips and sultriness and the occasional sharp-tongued nickname. 'Damon Salvatore didn't care' was the reputation he fought to instill within others and himself – except, as is often the case in matters such as these, the exact opposite was true. He cared too much. "And if you changed your mind, then…"
Elena's calm demeanor immediately deteriorated at the question she knew was coming, but still had no idea how to intercept. "What!?" she asked a little too loudly, in a blind panic, though she hardly cared if she drew anyone else's attention, because she felt everything inside her squeeze – as though her intestines wrapped around every adjacent organ, snaking up to her heart to crush it like an organic vice of her own making. "No, no, I didn't. Why would you think that?"
"Elena," he repeated calmly, cupping her cheeks in the reassuring way of lovers, as though he just proclaimed that she was his heart's desire, rather than delivered a heartbreaking confession of his suspicions. Why was he holding her like he meant to give her the world, when – unless that was precisely what he thought he was doing, Elena thought with a stifled whimper. Why couldn't he just believe that she loved him and she chose him? Did she really make it that impossible, after all the time she spent denying her own feelings? Perhaps, she thought – but what she learned from their blood-sharing on their road trip had to have contributed significantly, she thought with silent rage. Elena was not a vengeful person in the slightest and could easily count on one hand the amount of people capable of instilling rage within her – but if she ever met Giuseppe Salvatore, she wouldn't hesitate to kill him for what he did, slowly.
"They were shared dreams, Damon," she stressed, feeling herself on the verge of tears. "Katherine and I both had them. That means they're magical – not a reflection of how I feel," she soothed, placing her own hands on Damon's cheeks to draw him closer, her heart finally awash with relief when he dropped his mask, vulnerability burning in his piercing, blue gaze. "I only want you – no one but you. I thought the dreams were a manifestation of guilt, but not love. I love you, and nothing's going to change that. When are you going to accept that?" she asked, tracing his cheekbones with her thumb.
The rest of the party had gone on ahead, knowing that they would be easily trackable for two vampires by sound alone.
"I don't deserve you, but my brother does."
The words of Damon's erstwhile confession of yesteryear, once compelled away, only to return upon her transition into vampirism, hung between them. As the words rang in her ears, she stood on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his waiting lips. He deepened the kiss immediately, drawing her closer, and while it was tempting to give into the sensation, she had to make sure she knew the gravity of her feelings – that he was so much more to her than he probably realized.
She pulled away, but kept her fingers on his cheeks, his hair, soothing him. "You deserve me, Damon. And I deserve you. We're it. There will never be anyone else for me. You save me every day. You're my perfect fit," she said with a trembling voice, a smile rising from her quivering lip.
And then it was as sunbeams sang from his eyes, as Damon leaned down to kiss her. He pulled back to reveal an open smile – genuine, warm. Elena felt all that was inside her bathed in its heat. "I love you, Elena. I've been waiting for you my whole life," he revealed, realizing it not for the first time.
Elena's joy at the upswing in mood manifested in a delighted laugh, punctuated by a kiss that swept them out of the forest and into the winds of the stratosphere, before they both pulled away breathless - but something elusive in his gaze remained- something Elena recognized, but couldn't quite pinpoint. Something that gave her pause. "Come on. We have to catch up to the others," Damon urged, grabbing her hand before she could properly analyze the curious look in his eyes, as they took off on a vamp run toward their friends.
Enzo's mind positively reeled from the information he overheard. Ever since Wes took another sliver of his heart a few days ago, he'd let him take the entirety of that time to recover. After all, his previous subject expired when forced to undergo this procedure every other day, even though the doctor had been careful to remove minuscule pieces. Apparently, that same sliver had to regrow to its entirety, so Enzo had a week without the grueling agony of having his other organs harvested. Small victory, he wryly thought.
It was as a result of this that he hadn't been too distracted by the pain of regrowing tissue that he successfully eavesdropped on the phone call between Wes Maxfield and the Nevada office.
They'd apparently captured an entire coven of witches, and had somehow coerced them to cloak their headquarters, so there went Enzo's plan to team up with some folks of the magical variety to bring this whole place down in a blazing fire. When he escaped, of course - any day now. So he'd been telling himself for the last handful of decades.
He also heard that the Nevada office had been experimenting with werewolf venom, apparently deadly to vampires - the only known cure in existence being the blood of the Original Hybrid - a bloke named Klaus Mikaelson. Or so the captured witches say. He vaguely recalled whispers of the name - of the famed group of vampires dauntingly dubbed 'The Originals' - during his bloody traipse through Europe with Lily and the Heretics. Mental group they were, but at least they got him his handy-dandy daylight ring.
Enzo's reverie was interrupted when in walked by far his least favorite living human - one whose mortality status he'd dearly like to change. "Enjoying your brief reprieve from benefiting science and humanity, one-two-one-four-four?" asked the smug face of Wes Maxfield.
"Love it," Enzo replied dryly. "Almost as much as being a 'model citizen' and 'benefiting science and humanity.' You should try it sometime."
"I am benefitting humanity," Wes replied without looking at him, absorbed in studying a file. "Through my experimentation on you and your ilk. You're serving a noble cause"
"Pity," Enzo tutted. "I'm sure you'd be overjoyed at serving that same cause, from this end, as well. I can't wait to switch roles. I'd love to show you how it feels," he crisply enunciated in a voice that was deceptively soft, just bordering on malice.
The entire trek through the woods almost felt surreal to the wayward party. The map pointed them to an unusual section of the forest that had hitherto been believed to be empty – completely devoid of civilization – and yet, they found themselves approaching a cabin. It didn't look to be abandoned or in any state of disrepair. In fact, it had an air of 'rustic chic' – intentionally decorated and designed to look unassuming, while concealing a secret both ominous and powerful – an ancient magic hitherto hidden from the world.
"Something about this feels wrong," Bonnie murmured, half to herself, half to the group of oddballs. "I don't like the energy of this place."
"It'll be okay, Bonnie," Elena reassured quietly with a squeeze of Damon's hand, privately wondering if she was trying to comfort them or herself more with those words. At this point, nothing about the vibe seemed even remotely inviting.
"Three vampires – one of them, the sexiest being on the planet; a bumbling witch; and an overeager baby Hunter walk into a creepy cabin in the woods –" Damon began with a pronounced swagger to cover his nerves, pointedly leaving out Katherine.
He was interrupted when a woman with a strikingly powerful aura stepped out of the abode. She moved languidly, like an unhurried predator studying its target before an attack, her ebony curls resting on her shoulders in loose tendrils – unbothered, at ease. She didn't seem even remotely phased by the supernatural beings encroaching on her territory with weapons and an air of aggression. Her prideful gaze considered the group, lingering only slightly on Elena and Katherine as the first traces of a smug smirk crept up her lips. "Aren't you going to come inside?"
Bonnie stiffened instantly, sensing the sheer power coming off the woman as though a mighty gale. There was something peculiar about her, she thought – though she couldn't quite pinpoint why. Either way, she sensed a profound connection, like the one she felt in Lucy's presence, though at the time she didn't realize what it was. It admittedly took Bonnie longer than she liked to decipher that the ethereal bond she immediately felt was her sensing a fellow Bennett witch, despite their less-than-warm introduction.
Curiously, she sensed that same bond again, but the energy was … corrosive. Corrupted.
Almost unhinged.
"Interesting turn of phrase to direct at a group of vampires," Damon sassed as he subtly reached for a concealed knife. "Someone should really teach you about supernatural stranger danger."
The woman chuckled, with both the speed and volume increasing with each bark, until it turned into an uproarious guffaw, and then she sobered almost instantly, all trace of laughter on her face gone, as though it was never there. It gave her a decidedly unsettling aura. "And maybe someone should teach cocky vampires that I am the danger."
"Ooh, good. And here I was thinking this was going to be another boring fight, but you come to save us from monotony with a cliché Bond villain hubris. Can't wait for the big speech," Damon snarked.
"You're a few cufflinks short of Bond," the woman snorted.
"Nah, Stef's the government stooge type. I'm more of a dashing rogue," Damon replied with the beginnings of a grin that looked a lot more easygoing than he felt.
"Then I guess I have the right brother inside. I happen not like rogues very much," the woman at the cabin's threshold replied with an edge to her voice that belied her attempt to sound breezy.
"Yeah, you seem pretty Lawful Crazy," Jeremy finally spoke for the first time this whole trip, with a barely controlled snicker under his breath, unable to resist making a requisite Dungeons and Dragons reference to all the talk of rogues. Elena gave him a surreptitious low-five behind the backs of some of the group. Their little secret.
"Little Gilbert," Damon turned around to face the group's youngest member, his hand on his chest in a display of exaggerated sincerity. "That was almost impressive."
Jeremy's smile widened in response, though he tried to stifle it.
"Can we please try not to anger the clearly powerful witch holding our friend hostage?" Bonnie asked, because someone needed to be the voice of reason. Frankly, she was becoming concerned with how often she had to be the adult in the group. How did they even manage to survive the summer without her?
"Seriously!" Caroline and Katherine said at the same time, then looked at each other in horror, and promptly crossed to opposite sides of the group.
"What do you want with Stefan?" Caroline demanded.
The woman just shrugged, projecting an air of innocence that didn't look entirely believable. "Nothing at all that would harm him, I assure you. I rescued him after Silas trapped him in a safe at the bottom of the river," she explained, though her voice caught with an unusual amount of aggression at the offender's name. "I saved him and I brought him to my cabin, where he'd be safe – which is more than any of you did," she added with a raised eyebrow. "He spent all Summer drowning, and where were you?"
"Just who in the hell do you think you are?" Katherine finally stepped forward, having had just about enough of this obnoxious and clearly emotionally disturbed woman's haughty attitude.
The woman in question eyed her with scorn, just as she quickly did Elena, leading them both to surmise that she had entanglements with doppelgängers before. "The name's Qetsiyah, but you can call me Tessa," she said dryly. "And I lured you here to make a deal."
So we finally meet Qetsiyah! And she wants to make a deal. :D We'll find out more next chapter.
Sorry if you're not a fan of sad/insecure Damon, but this is more or less where he was emotionally in S5 - especially early S5. It didn't take much for him to swing from Summer bliss to his break-up speech, because that sense of inadequacy was very much there, simmering beneath the surface. The goal is for him to overcome it. If you're not a fan (and I know some people aren't), I'd like to direct you to Timey Wimey, a story where he's *way* past all that (or Eros and Philia, where he's all about his S1 swagger). :D
I've been kind of delaying this part for a while, but I realize I have to get through it to give Enzo and the Augustines the arc that they deserve. But for that to happen, the group had to find Stefan first. It's very unlikely that anyone would join Bonnie's "let's save that vampire" plan before rescuing Stefan - even if Damon knew that she was talking about Enzo. So this absolutely had to come first. Buuuut, that means we're well on our way. :D
Reviews are also expressions of love, everyone, so I'd be delighted to hear your thoughts, feelings, opinions. Much love, all. :)