Eternal Contemplations (12/?)
Title: Eternal Contemplations
Author: fading_tales
Pairing: Damon/Blair (Vampire Diaries/Gossip Girl cross-over)
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, Gossip Girl or any of their characters.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Timing means nothing and everything when you have an eternity to live.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven
Chapter 1-3 mini picspam
Chapter Twelve
There's a sort of ringing in Nate's head that won't go away.
"I didn't care about Nate!"
Heart pounding away in his chest. Blood rushing, roaring in his ears. Filling it up with white noise.
"I love you, Blair."
If he had stopped to think about it, he would realize that it made sense. Serena was in love with Blair. That made sense.
"I…I… I'm in love with you."
But at the moment, Nate's brain function was at all time low and all he can do is keep from tipping over in shock. The vertigo gets too much at one point and he stumbles backwards knocking into one of the Salvatore's precious crystal vases and sending it crashing onto the floor.
Both Blair and Serena turn towards the noise and their eyes find him standing there looking like an idiot next to the rubble. He's never felt so exposed.
The Salvatores can bill him later. Right now all he wants to do is leave.
"Nate!" Serena exclaims.
He doesn't answer and continues walking away leaving the two girls he had ever cared about in the entire world watching him leave. Neither of them follows him.
xxx
He finds a familiar company via Chuck at the bar. Chuck has already gone through two expensive bottles of merlot, his tab equivalent to the cost of a small sedan.
"I didn't think this small town would have such good wine selection," Chuck rasps.
Nate doesn't answer, but he sits himself down next to his best friend.
"I messed up."
"No shit," Chuck replies without missing a beat.
"I royally completely messed up."
Chuck just nods drunkenly and proceeds to fill two shot glasses of vodka. Nate takes it and downs the thing in one quick gulp and to which Chuck refills to the brim. They down shot after shot for a while in mutual silence.
"Serena is in love with Blair," Nate reveals in between his 5th and 6th shot.
"I know…" Chuck murmurs.
"You know?"
"I told you not to waste your time."
"I loved her! How could you not tell me?"
He stands up violently, knocking the bar stool over and spilling several drinks. Why is it that everyone is keeping secrets? Is there no truth in the world anymore? A feeling of self-pity overwhelms the young Archibald.
"I fucking loved Serena and you knew she loved Blair! How could you keep something like that from me?"
Nate is angry, feels he has every right to be. Chuck is of the same opinion.
"I tried warning you! How many times did I tell you not to go after Serena? I thought you would've done the right thing-"
"Don't start! You don't have any right to lecture me on doing the right thing! As if you've ever done anything right in your life!"
When you hurt as much as Nate does, you want to make those around hurt the same.
"Shut up before you say something you regret."
"As if you ever loved anyone! Must have been hard to know how it feels since nobody ever loved you!"
"Don't go there, Archibald," Chuck warns.
"What are you going to do about, Daddy's Boy?"
Chuck throws the first punch and it lands on Nate's left eye. Nate retaliates by tackling Chuck onto the ground, careening on top of one of the tables, sending several dinner plates crashing to the floor.
Chuck laughs halfheartedly from his position on the floor, carefully pushing himself up as the bartender grab hold of Nate.
"And to think, I picked you over Blair," Chuck sneers. "I had some sick, convoluted illusion of brotherhood. Some idealized, dated notion of a guy code. So I picked your side over hers."
Chuck brushes himself off, touching his split lip tentatively and wincing as his hand came away with blood.
"I might not be a saint, but you're a stupid, selfish little prick. You think you loved Serena? Well what about Blair, huh? She loved you, though I don't understand why. How is your love better than hers? What gives you the right to rip out her heart?"
Nate turns suddenly sober.
"It took fucking Salvatore's pompous lecture for me to realize it. I should've been on her side. Because you? You're the screw-up. You didn't deserve her and you blew it. It's not even about just you and Blair. It's all of us. You didn't just fuck around with anybody. You screw over Blair with Serena. We're never going to be the same again after this, don't you understand?"
Nate merely shakes his head in disbelief.
"This. Is. Irreparable."
A security guard belatedly shows up at Chuck's side to throw him out. The young Bass shrugs the guy's hands off of him and makes his own way through the rubble of what used to be a table and a bar stool to the exit.
"Get your own fucking ride back into the city," Chuck snarls over his shoulder.
xxx
Nate finds Serena at the Hilton twenty minutes outside of town. On the way there, he had wondered if things would have ended up differently if they had checked in there like they were suppose to instead of staying with the Salvatores. Probably not.
He approaches the front desk and they call Serena's room. He half expected her to refuse to see him, but sure enough the receptionist hands him over a key and he makes his solemn ascent to her room.
She looks tired and distracted, currently sorting though her stuff looking for something or other.
"You used me."
He doesn't bother with any sort of greeting.
"Yes," Serena answers simply, not pausing at her task.
"I loved you."
Serena sighs and looks up from the middle of refolding a sequined t-shirt.
"You loved the idea of me, Nate. You were always controlled by your family and so you thought could find escape from your parent's expectations with me. You used me, too. But I'm not the answer to your problems."
"Do you really love Blair?"
"I do, but it doesn't matter. She's never going to love me back the same way. I realize that now. I've been selfish."
He nods silent. "It wasn't just you. I made a horrible mistake. I didn't deserve her."
Serena sighs and throws herself down on the bed, hugging herself as if she was cold even though the room was warm.
"What are you going to do now?" he asks.
"… I don't know. She wanted me to leave, so I guess I will go back to New York. Or maybe even back to boarding school... Somewhere away from here."
"What should I do?"
"I can't tell you that, Nate," Serena answers. She covers her eyes with her hands and makes a wish to nobody. "I want to rewind time."
Don't we all?
Nate leans back against the wall, his eyes aimed skyward as if he was searching for answers from the ceiling tiles. Chuck had said that this was irreparable and now Nate is deathly afraid that he was right. He had everything and now it's gone. All of it.
"Whatever it is that you're going to do, think hard about what you really want. And if you find that you still want her, then you're going to have to fight for her. She's not going to forgive you very easily."
"She will though, won't she? In time?"
"One can only hope."
Serena kisses Nate chastely on the cheek good bye. This time around Nate's skin doesn't tingle, his heart doesn't pound and his palms don't sweat. There's just a sort of numbness to everything.
"Good bye, Serena"
The tragic thing about Blair Waldorf is that she was always in love with the wrong person. Blair, Nate and Serena are caught in an impossible situation that could never result in a happy ending. Serena knows this and there's nothing left for her here, so she packs her bags and leaves.
xxx
Blair had watched Nate's taxi disappear over the horizon from the window on the second floor. He had come back after Chuck and Serena had left. He tried to see her, but Damon wouldn't let him come in, having thrown his stuff out in the front yard.
"She doesn't want to see you and frankly I'm sick of your face myself," Damon says bluntly in reply to Nate's demands to see Blair.
There's a rather smug look on Damon's face that just didn't sit right with Nate.
"Also, you owe me a vase. That was Swarovski crystal, you know?" the older Salvatore adds cheekily.
Nate had spotted her watching from her window. He looked a mess, like he hasn't slept or showered, wearing two days old clothes. He tries once again to pass the threshold, but Damon shoves him back. He tries pleading with her silently with his eyes. Those pretty blue eyes that she used to drown in. They look quite ordinary now. She wonders to herself what was so special about them that had made her love him so.
There's a saying that goes 'time heals all wounds,' perhaps that is just what they all need. Some time away from one another to forgive, to forget. Maybe if he gave her some space, he can try again.
Nate realizes that there's not much more he can do, so he picks up his strewn belongings and loads up the taxi cab. They had all come here together, but they're all leaving alone. They came to get Blair, but she's the one that stays. They leave behind the ripples of the destruction of their friendship and heartbreak in their wake. As he gets into his taxi, he thinks to himself how if there exists a God, he must love irony.
He mouths "I'm sorry" to her before he leaves.
xxx
She couldn't believe how things could have changed so fast. It was all too much to take. Serena and Nate's betrayal, Chuck's knowledge about the whole debacle, followed by Serena's shocking revelation and the departure of three out of the four members of her precious Breakfast Club. How they all so easily fell apart.
Blair twists and turns in bed recalling every detail. Like a masochist she relives the events of the past chaotic twenty-four hours over and over again. The memory of Serena's confession was particularly nagging. She couldn't give Serena a proper answer to her question.
"Why isn't it me?"
She can't get rid of Serena's sorrowful face from her memory. She loved Serena. But not in the way Serena wanted to be loved. She doesn't know why she doesn't, but she just doesn't. It might have made more sense if she did. It would have saved them both a lot of the heart ache.
Throughout her childhood, Blair's one constant had always been Serena. But things had changed. They had grown up, though perhaps not any wiser. Her feelings didn't develop into the same love that Serena's did. But she understands the other girl's feeling. It hurts when the person you love don't love you back, not in the way you want them to anyways. In this way she feels sorry towards Serena, but at the same time she realizes that Serena can't use love as an excuse for her actions. So when Serena left, she didn't stop her. Maybe being away from each other this time around would do them both more good than harm. At least she hopes so.
xxx
Cleaning up the fallout of Serena and Nate's affair had not been easy. Blair had gone back to her habits to nitpicking her food and stowing away to bathroom when she thinks he's not watching. Before Damon had let it all go because he didn't think he had the right to tell her what to do with her life. He still doesn't, but he's not going to stand by and watch her slowly waste away anymore. She said she wanted to stay with him, and so he was going to hold her to that promise.
The next time she gets up to go to the restroom during dinner, he follows her. There are other girls in there who make a great show of being surprised at his presence in their intimate setting, but he knows they're all eying him appreciatively.
"Damon!" Blair scolds.
"Get out, all of you," he commands the ogling adolescent girls not so subtly checking him out.
They exchange nervous glances, but refuse to budge. Blair crosses her arms smugly, raising an eyebrow at him as if to challenge him. He's the invader here and he has no right to go around making demands.
"Get. Out."
He laces his words this time with some persuasive power. The room is quickly cleared out, leaving only Blair and himself.
"What are you doing, Salvatore? Pervy much? I need to use the ladies room."
"I'm not letting you go throw up your dinner. You are already eating little as it is. And don't you think this whole poor rich girl with an eating disorder act has been overplayed?"
She doesn't look at all surprised that he knows. He's not at all dense like Nate was, so she doesn't even bother to deny it.
"Why do you care? You never stopped me before," she retorts.
"You said nobody ever picked your side. Well, I told you that I'm on your side. That means defending you against yourself. I'll use force if I have to."
"You'd hit me?" she cries incredulously, hands on hips.
"I'll gag you with a dirty sock," he replies with a smile. "You know I'll do it."
She's not quite sure he's bluffing. Nobody is going to gag Blair Waldorf with soiled hosiery.
"This is ridiculous. You know, I was really only coming in here to wash my hands."
He continues to smile back at her. "Then go wash your hands."
The two engage in a staring contest for awhile before Blair pushes past him irritably and goes back out to the restaurant.
She starts eating again under his constant surveillance and the threat of sullied laundry looming over her head. With her appetite coming back, her usual brand of acerbic humor does as well. He breathes a silent sigh of relief. Things start to go back to normal, or as normal as Damon Salvatore and Blair Waldorf can get.
Before they know it All Hallows' Eve is upon them. Which means Bonnie will be coming to collect.
The Salvatore mansion was exploited to its full gothic potential and filled to the brim with teenage adolescents hoping to party hard and get lucky. Elena and Stefan had quickly resumed their sickening love bird routine once Serena had left. One of first things they decided to do (after lots of heavy make out sessions) was to throw a Halloween party together. Blair says it was Elena's way of publicly marking her territory in case some other blonde bimbo got any ideas.
"I'm surprised that Stefan was willing to host a party this year since last year's was so disastrous."
"Knowing you, you probably had a hand in the destruction."
"You know me well."
Damon smirks and she roll her eyes.
"Don't you like my costume?" He asks, flaunting his bright red cape.
"You look ridiculous," she states simply, scrunching her nose at the image of him in his full Dracula regalia. "Are you wearing fake fangs?"
Indeed they were. Bonnie had sent over a package with all the essentials a week in advance.
"I wunt to suck your blooood," he imitates in way that was suppose to be dramatic, but ends up being comical instead. It earns him some laughter and he's quite satisfied despite all the humiliation the rest of the evening promises to bring. He has missed her laugh. He was afraid that that laugh might have been gone for good after the whole Serena-Nate incident. She didn't smile fully with her eyes like she did before, but he believes that in good time, wounds would heal and he could wheedle out some more genuine smiles.
"If you keep this up, I'm not hanging out with you," she says sternly, but he can make out the amusement glinting in her eyes.
Damon sees Stefan watching him from the corner of his eyes and sure enough the prodigal younger brother is making his way towards his much less virtuous older brother, probably to give a lecture on the latter's erroneous ways.
"Oh, great. Here Stefan comes…" Damon mutters underneath his breath. "Probably to make sure I don't eat any of the guests."
"I'll leave you two to… talk," Blair excuses herself with a sly smile.
"Traitor," Damon calls out after her, but she's already scurrying away, having seen Bonnie by the refreshments with Elena giggling and pointing at him.
Damon narrows his eyes at the witch and she blows a raspberry in his direction in return. He's tempted to retaliate despite the immaturity. It's hard to feel very mature when he is draped in cheap polyester. He sees Blair laughing, for the second time today, at something Elena said and the humiliation becomes worth it. He remembers that Bonnie had done him a favor and if this was the price, so be it. Instead of some lewd gesture, Damon raises a glass in salute to the witch. She had delivered what she had promised and for that he's grateful.
Damon's brief moment of pleasure quickly dissipates as he hears his brother's footsteps come to a stop behind him. Turning around to face Stefan, Damon allows himself to plaster on a half-hearted smile.
"What is it now? Let me guess, somebody broke a fingernail and you think it's my fault?"
Stefan snorts and shakes his head. "I… I just wanted to say that you've surprised me."
Damon quirks his eyebrow in puzzlement at Stefan's strange statement. "The costume wasn't my idea, I assure you."
"No, no. Although I must say this is a good look for you," Stefan says impishly. "I like the princess sleeves."
"I took the shirt from your closet," Damon quips. "Don't you recall that one time when you were really into-"
"Anyways," Stefan interrupts, spluttering a little and turning a slight pink (or as pink as someone undead could turn). "What I wanted to say was that when you came back, again, I was sure you were going to wreck some more havoc, as you are prone to do. I mean I was sure you had hatched another plan to destroy the town and murder innocent bystanders, women and children and whatnot… but you didn't. And that surprised me."
"I think there is a compliment in there somewhere."
"What I'm trying to say is," Stefan repeats in a louder voice. "Is that you've changed. Other than converting our house into a sort of hostel for New York refugees…"
Please, as if he didn't enjoy Serena's stay. He guess Stefan have to keep up appearances with Elena present. Boy did she have his little brother on a short leash. It would be amusing if it wasn't so pathetic.
"…you've been great. It's been good to have you home. I was skeptical at first, but I think you've grown…"
Stefan pauses to search for an appropriate word and Damon dearly hopes his brother is not about to use the word "soft" or "kind" or some other nauseating cliché word that could easily double as a description for the cuddly woodland creatures Stefan likes to snack on.
"More human," Stefan finishes.
Humans are definitely neither soft nor kind (at least not the majority of them). And so Damon thinks he doesn't mind the comparison, even if Stefan was wrong. He's a monster through and through. He hasn't changed. Not at all. At least he doesn't think he has.
"I just wanted you to know that I'm proud of you. I think Blair is a good influence and I'm glad you brought her."
Stefan awkwardly clasps his older brother's shoulder and walks away to join his girlfriend. Blair notices the end of the two brother's conversation and sneaks up behind him.
"What did Stefan want?" she asks.
"You know Stefan, just babbling on about his feelings again. I never should have let him watch that lifetime movie marathon."
Blair smirks and swats his arm playfully. "Be nice. He's still your brother. He's put up with your crap for over a century. The guy should be getting a metal."
"Whose side are you on anyways?" Damon demands in mock anger.
"Don't be so melodramatic, Salvatore. I don't want to listen to your sibling quarrels all night."
"Then how about a dance? So I can forget about Stefan's little heart-to-heart."
She smiles and places her hand in his extended one. He twirls her around and she laughs again. For the third time. Not like he's counting or anything. But the sight of Blair laughing girlishly as he spins her and dips her makes her look so very young, so very innocent and undamaged. It makes his chest tighten in a pleasurable way. Stefan said she made him more human. If this is what it means to be human, he doesn't mind it. Not at all.
xxx
On the whole, Halloween this year is a lot more fun than the last. Nobody died, nobody got turned into a vampire, nobody got staked and nobody got their memories wiped. Sure there were some drunken partiers that broke a few precious heirlooms. He never liked that grandfather clock anyways. All in all, it was quite a successful event.
As the last of the guests are leaving, Bonnie pulls Blair and Damon aside, away from any idle ears. Her eyes have that misty sheen which meant that Emily has taken over.
"What is it?" Blair asks.
"Tomorrow night is the Hunter's Moon. All of our preparations are ready," the old witch spirit answers. "It's time to open the tomb."
Blair looks at Damon expectantly, like he should be jumping for joy or something. And he should be. He should be elated, ecstatic, euphoric, but for some reason it feels like the beginning of the end.
xxx
Blair finds Damon in the study fixing himself a drink while Stefan and Elena cleaned up downstairs. He had rid himself of the evening's ridiculous get up and was back into his black Armani dress shirts and the smile he had on all evening is replaced with solemnity. She misses the lightness of the evening. Ever since Emily informed them of the impending full moon, there's been a level of tension in the air. All their work up until now has led them to this. This is what they've all been working for. In twenty-four hours they could enjoy the fruits of their labor. It should be cause for celebration! So why is she dreading tomorrow?
How quickly time has flown. Despite Stefan's little speech, Damon had let slip the real reason why he had come back to Mystic Falls. So much had happened that he had quite forgotten about the whole tomb thing as of late. It only dawned on him now that he was mere hours away from being reunited with Katherine again. Katherine.
"Tomorrow's the day," Blair says from the doorway. He's shaken out of his reverie and looks up to see her drawing nervous circles with her finger against the door frame.
"Yeah."
He silently asks her if she'd like glass, nodding in the direction of the decanter. She shakes her head no and he continues to refill his own glass only to empty it a second later. She has since abandon her post at the door and have moved on over to the couch and looking around the room as if she's never been in it before. Her restlessness is a clear tell that she's anxious, though about what he doesn't know. He's the one who's trying his best to keep the tremor from his grip on the wine glass.
"So this is Katherine?" Blair asks, holding up a miniature portrait of the infamous Katherine Pierce.
"That's her alright."
Blair studies the face of the woman whose ghost continues to haunt the older Salvatore from beyond the grave. Her presence forever imprinted into his mind.
"She really does look an awful lot like Elena."
"Elena looks like her," Damon corrects.
Katherine was the cause of everything. "Doesn't it always come down to the love of a woman?" That's what he had said to Elena. And what a woman Katherine must have been for no other girl to have ever compared, at least not in his eyes. For some reason this thought makes Blair's chest hurt.
"Why did you ever go to so much trouble? Why not Elena? Maybe Elena is Katherine. She could be lying to you. Did you ever think about that? You don't even know what you'll find in the tomb."
"Elena is not Katherine. I'd know it if she was. They're not the same. Stefan might be content with a knock-off, but I'm not."
What is it about the girl in this portrait miniature that inspired decades, centuries of devotion? What magical allurement does this Katherine person have? She really wants to know, because she's jealous. Blair Waldorf is honestly, completely, totally jealous of Katherine Pierce.
"You sound so sure of yourself… You must love her a lot," Blair says, tearing her eyes away from Katherine's coy gaze etched on parchment.
"Did that just occur to you?"
"It has occurred to me, but I never really believed you were capable of actually loving only one person. You don't look the type. You seem more likely to break hearts than to give them away."
He is. He has left a long trail of broken hearts in his wake for the past near two hundred years of his life. Katherine had always been the standard and nobody had ever measured up.
"Is this your way of telling me I'm a totally irresistible heartthrob Casanova? Because I totally am," he replies audaciously.
Blair scoffs and rolls her eyes.
"Are you really telling me that for the past hundred plus years of roaming the earth, you've never found anyone else?"
He would give Katherine the world on a silver platter if he could. She was everything. He would do anything for her if only she'd ask and sometimes even when she didn't. As long as she was happy, he'd do it. There's nobody else that could compare.
"Don't you think that's just so… unfair?" Blair says sadly. "I mean, all those poor girls falling in love with you and you never even gave them a chance."
It's true. There have been thousands of girls over the centuries, but none that have ever made him feel a fraction of what Katherine made him feel. Nobody ever made him happy the way she did, nobody made him hurt the way she did, nobody ever made him feel the way she did. Nobody.
Except…
He shakes his head to clear away his thoughts and pours himself another glass.
"And this is coming from the Ice Queen," he jibes, walking towards her.
"I'm not an Ice Queen. I am quite the appropriate… temperature," she finishes lamely. Her wit is not quite up to par tonight. She shouldn't have let Damon spin her around so much. A blush creeps on her cheeks at the memory. She never would have allowed that sort of wanton behavior had she been in New York.
"You're frigid," he teases. He doesn't know why she's blushing, but he likes the color on her cheeks. "And you know what? With your uptight princess act and those short little mini skirts that you strut around in, you're a complete tease."
There's been an unnervingly familiar feeling that has been blossoming in his chest since he met Blair Waldorf. She has a unique ability of making him forget about Katherine. A seemingly impossible feat. At least he had always thought it was. He thought he was through with being surprised.
"I am not!" she pouts.
Her lips are distracting and his thoughts keep on veering dangerously back to that one incomplete mental sentence. No one had ever matched up to Katherine. Except…
"Are too," he sing-songs.
"Am not!" she replies immaturely. She doesn't quite feel like herself tonight.
"Really?" he counters skeptically.
"Yes."
"Then prove it."
"I don't have to prove anything to you, and you're just trying to change the subje-"
He silences her protests by grabbing her face and placing a spontaneous kiss on those ruby red lips she keeps flaunting. They're as soft as he imagined, maybe softer.
It lasts only a second. She shoves him away and slaps him across the face.
"See? Frigid," he announces.
"You're a pig!"
"But a handsome one," he points out cockily. "And a good kisser. Any other girl would've been joyous."
"Why don't you go look for one of them then?"
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand angrily.
"You know? I'm really sick of guys kissing me when they're thinking of other girls."
The words cut right through him.
"Go to hell, Salvatore."
She slams the door on her way out. This is what she gets for trying to comfort an arrogant, womanizing, self-absorbed ass. It doesn't help that he makes her heart pound. She wipes her mouth again with the back of her hand, but the pounding doesn't still. What makes it worse is that he could probably hear it with that annoying super vampire hearing ability that he has. She flushes bright red, mutter some profanity in his direction, and marches off to her bedroom.
xxx
He doesn't know what got into him and he can't even blame it on the alcohol. It's not like he hasn't thought about kissing her before. In fact he's been thinking about kissing her a lot, a little too much for comfort. He's in love with Katherine. K-A-T-H-E-R-I-N-E. The person he's spent the past one hundred and fifty years, ninety-two days, seven hours and twenty-one minutes mourning and pining over. And tomorrow he's going to get her back. That should be the foremost thought occupying his mind, not senseless fantasies about a different brunette in impossibly impractical high heels and silky slips pooling around her ankles. He gets up abruptly from his seat and starts pacing.
It's just nerves combined with lots of pent up sexual tension and high emotions. He pours himself yet another drink and lets the liquid flames burn their way down his throat. All the kick without any of the calming effects. Of all the things he misses from being human, it's the ability to get mind numbingly drunk whenever they want to.
She must hate him. They were friends. Friends don't kiss other friends. Not like that. She deserved better. Her line about being sick of being kissed by guys who were thinking of other girls had hurt more than any stake through the heart. He didn't want to be put in the same category as Nathaniel Archibald. He'd rather go sunbathing without his ring on.
He has since emptied the bar of any good hard liquor and there were only bottles of white wine and champagne left. It sparks his memory of their kiss. She had tasted like expensive champagne and something sweet. His lips still tingle from it. It was almost worth the slap, which actually did hurt given the strength she put into it. He touches his cheek in memory and smiles. She's cute when she's so fired up. The smile quickly disappears when he remembers how he quite possibly screwed up the only friendship he ever had because he couldn't properly deal with some pesky emotions.
When did he start feeling anything other than rage and grief? In the end it was really her fault. It was Blair who made him feel alive again. It was terrifying, but he wouldn't give it up for the world. Maybe not even for Katherine. What an even scarier thought. One he never thought was possible. Blair Waldorf seems to be just chock-full of impossible things.
Damon rubs his face with the palms of his hand and slumps into one of the leather sofas. He doesn't get up till morning.
xxx
The sun eventually rises and Blair forces herself out of bed, dreading the moment she sees Damon again after what happened last night. She brings her hands up to touch her lips and the memory makes her blush, though whether the blush is a result of anger or pleasure, she's not quite sure.
Damon was just edgy about the possibility of finding Katherine again. He was just upset. It didn't mean anything. It didn't mean anything at all.
Given all the logic and reasoning, the weight on her chest still does not lift. In fact it seems even heavier. Does she want it to mean something? She shakes her head to clear away such dangerous thoughts. There will not be a Damon and Blair relationship other than a platonic one. She just got out of a relationship where the guy was in love with another girl and given that Damon has been pining after Katherine for over a century, she doesn't think she could compete. Blair Waldorf isn't known for getting herself into losing battles. Pragmatism. She's learnt her lesson the hard way. Not that she wants to compete with Katherine anyways. She doesn't. Not at all. They're just friends. Good friends, but just friends nonetheless. She groans out loud at the ridiculousness of it all and drags her feet towards her closet.
She goes through the motions of her usual morning routine. Sooner or later she realizes it only takes so long to wash her face and comb her hair. With a groan, she puts down her hair brush and checks herself one last time in the mirror before heading towards the exit.
She opens her bedroom door to find a note that simply read: I'm sorry. - D, on the floor besides a bouquet of red wild roses.
xxx
He sees her at the breakfast table picking at her food, a clear sign that she was anxious. And they were making so much progress. It's all awkward silence without neither Stefan nor Elena to buffer them. The two love birds had to be at school early today of all days to prepare for a pep rally. The whole idea of a 162 year old Stefan getting ready for a high school pep rally was beyond asinine to Damon, but love makes you do silly things. Still he wishes his little brother had chosen a different day to be absent for breakfast. For the most part Blair is ignoring him and he's just walking around, opening the cabinets and the fridge, looking for nothing in particular. Eventually he breaks the silence.
"So… are you like still angry at me or something?"
"Depends," She replies, daintily dabbing her mouth with a napkin and then soothing it on the table. "Are you still a jerk?"
"Guilty. But you have to admit, I'm a charming one. Didn't you get the flowers?"
"Yes, but I wish you were more original. That move has been made by playboys and womanizers way too many times."
"That's because it always works," he says smirking. "The fact that you're speaking to me just serves to prove my point."
She throws a blueberry at him, which he catches with his mouth.
"See? You're even feeding me now. If this were a 90s high school romcom, you'd be writing me secret love letters and drawing my name into your notebook within lunch time."
"You're insufferable! And next time I'd prefer peonies from a flower shop instead of the weeds you found in the backyard."
He scoffs. "Peonies are for old British ladies who spend their days knitting and sipping tea in the parlor without their dentures. I thought wild roses were much more fitting. What? You didn't like them?"
"You didn't even remove the thorns," she complains.
"Like I said, much more fitting."
They banter like normal and both breathe a mental sigh of relief. They've silently agreed to forget about last night and he's more than happy to comply. It was only a kiss between friends who were going through some stuff. He was just seeking some physical comfort and companionship and she was there for him. It was a slip of judgment and it won't be repeated.
It's just a kiss. It's just a kiss. He repeats it in his head like a mantra.
If he really got down to it, all of this mental process is just excuses piled on top of self denial, and twisted logic and justifications. He feels like a schoolboy again. She makes him feel this way and that's the problem. She's not supposed to make him feel this way. She's the wrong girl.
They might both have long wavy hair, but it's not the same color. Katherine's darker, more mahogany to Blair's chestnut. They might both have enticing pouty lips, but they didn't feel the same. Katherine's were always cold. Maybe that trait came hand in hand with being a vampire, but he thinks even as a human Katherine's kisses were probably ice cold. Blair's on the other hand left him feeling slightly scorched. Both were masters at using mischievous, coquettish smiles to get what they want. The difference was, there is a level of vulnerability in Blair's come hither look. She smiles as if she were silently pleading "but please don't break my heart" to her previous haughty declaration of "come if you dare." Such show of vulnerability is completely absent in Katherine's. He has always been the one in danger of getting his heart broken in that relationship. They're not the same.
He snaps himself out of his dangerous thoughts. He's thinking about the wrong girl and this is no time to be thinking about the wrong girl.
Katherine. Katherine. He changes his mantra.
He needs to be thinking about the right girl. After all, everything he has done up to now, it has all been for her. The one and only Katherine Pierce. And before the day is over, he'll have her again and nothing else will matter.
xxx
The rest of the day crawls at a sluggish pace, night taking forever to come. Eventually the sun decides to stop the game of stalemate and sets, allowing the stars to come out of hiding. Stefan is out on a date with Elena tonight, completely convinced of his older brother's change for the better, completely at peace of mind and so completely wrong.
The full moon lights their path to the forest clearing, their journey tonight of all nights is silent. There's no banter, no complaints, no jokes. They just make their way solemnly to the tomb. Before they know it, they're breaking out of the trees and stumbling into the clearing. Emily has already set up everything and is waiting for them.
"The spell will only keep the tomb open for thirty minutes, I don't have the strength to keep it open for longer. You'll have to get her out of there by that time if you plan to get back out," Emily warns.
Damon nods his agreement and looks back at Blair who's currently clenching her fists. This is what they've all been working for.
"Do it," he says simply.
The witch doesn't need to be told twice. He's glad because he doesn't have time for second guessing and doubts.
"Damon, wait!" Blair calls after him as he makes his way towards the tomb.
He turns around to look at her and her nerves go on overdrive.
"Come back quickly. I won't forgive you if you get yourself stuck in there," she threatens. "You still owe me a favor. I won't have you weaseling out of it."
She's lying of course. She wouldn't have gone through so much trouble for a mere favor. Especially not since Nate is no longer in the picture. No, she's doing this because… he asked her. Because he wants it and she can't say no. It's just that simple. He smiles at her habit of covering up the fact that she cares with threats and haughty glares. Blair Waldorf is a big softie underneath that glacial exterior. It's just that few are willing to work so hard to get past the seemingly unbreakable walls that she's put up. Putting on airs, keeping up with appearances, those are the contents Blair's defense arsenal and she does it convincingly. She has a reputation after all and to hell is she going to let the cracks in her mask show. He humors her and nods back gravely before continue trekking towards the tomb's opening. He needs to stay focus for the task at hand.
The fireworks don't seem quite as impressive tonight even though they are bigger than ever. Everything has a sense of finality to it, making it muted and grey and less spectacular. It is all so surreal and Blair barely registers the tomb door slowly creaking its way open in her daze. Damon doesn't waste time and slips through the gap. The flames from Emily's spell die down to a mere smolder and suddenly she feels infinitely lonely without the flashing lights and chanting to distract her. There's nothing else left to do now, but to wait. Emily takes her hand and gives it a comforting squeeze.
"He'll be back."
She nods in return, keeping her eyes glued to the entrance of the tomb.
xxx
Inside, the tomb is dark and damp with a putrid rotting smell in the air that clings to Damon's nostrils. The torch in his hand shines an eerie orange glow on everything and seems to intensify the feeling of death and decay. He overturns so many corpses, hoping that it is and isn't her every time. He pushes his way past the carcasses of once formidable creatures of the night and finally, in the last place he looks, amongst the ruins he finds her.
She's all skin and bones, her once lustrous hair is now matted and tangled, her face almost skull like. She's not the great beauty that he remembered her to be. He doesn't care. She's the only one left that has survived and that must mean something.
He sweeps her into his arms and she barely registers what's going on, her head lolling to one side. He quickly moves to cushion it against his shoulder and stands up carefully, afraid that the slightest bit of movement could break her bones or worse yet, snap her neck. He's quite sure she won't be able to heal in her state. The only sign that shows she's even savable is the fact that she shivered in his embrace. When they step outside, she lets out a soft moan and trembles from the cold, he holds her as tight as he dares without hurting her.
From fifteen feet away, Blair's heart begins to pound at the sight of them emerging from the darkness. She wants to run to him, but she doesn't. She's rooted to her spot.
Katherine begins to regain some awareness once they made it outside. Her eyelids are dry and as thin as paper and when they start to flutter open, he uses one hand to shield her face from the cold night wind. She looks up at him and for a moment he thinks he sees disappoint flash in her eyes, but then she raises a skeleton hand to caress his cheek and everything is forgotten.
"Damon… I knew you'd come for me..." Katherine rasps.
"Don't talk. You need your strength," he answers, setting her on the ground, his arms still around her to support her.
"I need blood."
Katherine sniffs the air, her arms outstretched as if she could physically grasp the scent. Her eyes fall on Blair's figure from afar and a small tongue darts out to wet her dry parched lips. "You brought me a human…"
"What?" He turns to see where she's looking and sees Blair's worried face in the distance. "No-"
He's surprised by her sudden show of strength. Before Damon can stop her and before Blair could register the parched vampire launching itself at her, Katherine has sunk her teeth into Blair's neck.
A/N: Phew! A lot of things are happening in this chapter and I hope I gave them all the proper amount of attention they all deserved. I had a bit of trouble writing the Nate and Chuck scene and tying up the loose ends of the whole Serena-Nate debacle, so sorry if it sounds a bit awkward. I was having trouble juggling so many characters and so I had to "write off" characters so to speak for the moment. _ Anyways, yes I left off on another cliffhanger… please don't hate me! It's my cheap trick for keeping your interest in reading more! =P Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it and I promise to get the next chapter out soon. Thank you all loyal readers!