Fic: A Vampire's Policy [Vampire Diaries | PG13 | Elena/Damon | 7/?]
Title A Vampire's Policy
Author: jinxed_wood
Rating: PG13
Category: Drama
Spoilers: Up to 1x19
Warnings: It has vampires?
Show/Bookverse: Show
Summary:Stefan reignites his hunger for human blood, Elena tries to hold on, and Damon ensures he gets his own way...
Author's Notes: This story basically went AU from the end of 1X18, but I shall be incorporating elements of subsequent episodes, like John's machinations, Bonnie distrust and anger, Stefan's struggle with his new thirst for human blood, and general plot points that I feel wouldn't be changed by Elena's Vampirism - needless to say, Elena won't be a part of the Miss Mystic falls competition, although it will feature in this story! Anyways, on with the show!
Previous parts: PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX
----------------
PART SEVEN
Damon liked to think he had a well developed sense of irony, but this situation was definitely stretching it to it's limits. Here he was, with a hungry fledgling Vampire stashed upstairs, listening to the Sheriff devise a plan to dry up his blood supply, while the aforementioned fledgling's uncle tried to weasel his way into spending time with him...alone.
This man wasn't as afraid of him as he should be.
He would have to rectify that.
“Of course. Sheriff,” he said, aloud. “Whatever I can do to help the town, I'm sorry you couldn't contact me earlier - family stuff” He mentally thanked Pearl. He'd been slowly watering down the vervain extract he'd been supplying to the council, after her little visit. The last batch would only lasted a few hours in their systems before it wore off, and the ones who were wearing it, instead of ingesting it, seemed to be friends of Elena rather than the council. He wondered if he'd been too hasty fobbing off Anna, earlier - maybe it wasn't too late to build bridges.
Meanwhile, Sheriff Forbes was nodding understandingly at him. “No need to explain,” she said, “I know how it is raising a teen by yourself. I saw Stefan earlier.”
Damon blinked. Oh, this was just getting better and better...
“How bad was it?” he asked, putting on his responsible older brother face.
“Let's just say he seemed very... boisterous,” the Sheriff said.
“Teens these days, huh?” Damon said, his mind going over implications. He didn't like them; he was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion he knew who the blood thief was.
“Tell me about it,” the Sheriff said, oblivious to his thoughts.
“Sorry to cut into your parental bonding,” Gilbert said, impatiently. “But maybe Damon and I should start immediately on tracking down the source of the blood theft. We don't want to lose any time on this. Who knows what they're up to.”
Sheriff Forbes nodded. “You're right,” she said, getting to her feet. “And if I haven't said it before, I'll say it again - thank you for this. I need all the extra help I can get”
“It's our pleasure, Elizabeth,” said Gilbert. “Anything to help the town. Isn't that right, Damon?”
“Oh, most definitely,” Damon drawled, before he showed the Sheriff to the door, and waved her off.
He waited until the Sheriff's car disappeared from view before he spun on his feet. Jonathan Gilbert was standing in the middle of his parlour as if he owned the place, his arms crossed in front of him. Rage began to build up inside him, but he kept it still, behind a smirk.
“You really have no sense of self preservation, do you?” Damon asked. “And why are you suddenly so hot to track down these vampires? It's a bit selective, isn't it? Considering the many and various Vampires you have the pleasure of knowing - how's Isobel, by the way?”
“Isobel is just fine, and it's really quite simple, actually,” Gilbert said. “I need information. Information that you may be able to get foe me. You see, the other John Gilbert, the one who died a crazed gibbering idiot, thanks to you and your ilk, created something Isobel and I want. Something that one of your little Vampire friends, one that you freed from the crypt, has.”
“And what would that be, John,” Damon asked, suddenly distracted by a new scent. Elena's brother was back. He was circling the house...
“You don't need to know that,” said Gilbert. “All you need to know is a name - Pearl. Ring a bell?”
Damon went still. Well, that answered one question. “Time for you to leave,” he said. “Now.”
“Think again,” Gilbert said. “I'm not going anywhere until I have what I want.”
“Yeah, well the quid pro quo thing kind of flew out the window when you showed your hand,” Damon said. “The only reason I went along with this farce was because I thought you might lead me to Katherine. I guess I was wrong - because, if you knew Katherine, you'd know that Pearl was her best friend.” He gestured at the door. “Leave, before I start getting creative.”
“I'll tell them,” Gilbert spat out. “I'll spill you dirty little secret to the council, and you'll be hunted down.”
“Wrong move,” Damon said, “ Because if you think I'll go quietly, then you don't know me very well. I'll kill each and every one of the people to talk to, and then I'll come after you, rip your ring off, and then rip your head off. Do we understand each other?”
“This isn't over,” Gilbert said lowly.
“Oh yes it is, you just haven't figured it yet,” Damon said, as he pulled open the front door. He glared, with barely concealed rage, as Gilbert stalked out of the house, and slammed it closed. He glanced upstairs, as he passed the stairs. He'd close the curtains in a moment, first he had to deal with the brother.
Jeremy Gilbert was waiting for him on the brightly lit patio area, behind the house. His last trip to the lodge had obviously taught him at least one lesson. Hungry fledgling Vampires don't do family, they just eat them.
“How is she?” he asked, without preamble.
“Hungry,” Damon said.
He nodded unsurely. “I read what happened with Vicki, in her diary,” he said, “How she wanted to kill me.”
“Elena doesn't want to kill you, kid,” Damon said shortly. “Neither did Vicki, for that matter. It's the hunger; emotional ties trigger it... think of it as a kind of compliment.”
Jeremy gave him a long look. “Do you have any idea how twisted that sounds?"
Damon shrugged. “Vampire,” he said simply. “What's in the bag?” he gestured at the satchel at Jeremy's feet.
“Uh, stuff I forgot when I packed the last bag,” he admitted. “The chargers for her phone and ipod, stuff from her bathroom cabinet...I've got her homework from Alaric? I know how stupid that sounds, but I thought she might need the distraction and-”
“Thanks,” Damon said, interrupting before the kid rambled himself into oblivion. He was actually beginning to like Elena's brother. He was obviously terrified out of his mind, but he was still here. That took a kind of courage - the insane kind, but still....
“Is it still too soon to see her?” he asked quietly.
Damon hesitated. “I'd give it a week,” he said eventually. “She'll still be tetchy, but she should be able to keep it in check.”
He nodded. “She's going to miss the Miss Mystic Falls court,” he said. “Jenna got a call from the Founder's event manager this morning, wondering if she was going to turn up for the dance rehearsal.”
“Elena was going to be presented at the Miss Mystic Falls dance...really?” Damon asked, with a smirk. “I didn't think that was Elena's bag.”
“It wasn't,” Jeremy said wryly. “It was Mom's - that's why Jenna isn't kicking up too much of a fuss about Elena's disappearance. She's angry with her, but she's not worried yet. Your little road trip to Georgia set a precedent. She pretty much believes this is Elena's established behaviour pattern when she's upset.”
“Nothing like a dysfunctional family unit to make the lies run smoother,” Damon observed.
“You should know.”
Oh, touché, little bro,” Damon drawled. “Now skedaddle!”
Which he did, with great alacrity.
Damon turned and looked at the house, and wondered why he was still here. He had come back to Mystic Falls for Katherine, and yet somehow found himself playing nursemaid to her doppelgänger - and liking it.
“There must be something wrong with me,” he muttered, and then laughed. There had been something wrong with him for longer than he could remember. It was what attracted Katherine to him, in the first place.
He entered the house, and made short work of the curtains. “Elena, you can come out now,” he called out. There was no answer. Damon frowned as he extended his senses. She wasn't upstairs anymore, and she wasn't on the first floor...he felt a shiver of something he'd rather not identify as he entertained the idea she'd run out into the sun, but he dismissed it almost immediately. Some fledglings couldn't hack it, but something told him that immolation wouldn't be an option Elena would entertain.
That only left the lower levels, under the basement. The bedrock made it difficult for his senses to penetrate them, which is also what made it so easy for his dear departed nephew to betray him, by growing vervain in one of the cells down there. There were also the old servant stairs, at the back of the house, which purposely had no windows, and Elena knew about them.
He made his way into the bowels of the house, and eventually picked up her scent. He found her in the narrow corridor that led to farthest cells. She was crouched down against the wall, her eyes dilated and red with hunger. Her fingers were digging into the ground beneath her, making short work of the packed earth.
“Elena?” he asked.
She didn't answer, and Damon crouched down beside her and looked into her eyes. The blood lust was in the driver's seat, Elena wasn't at home. He put a steadying hand on her shoulder as his nostrils flared, and he suddenly picked up what had set her off. There was blood, a lot of blood.
He glanced at the closed door at the end of the corridor, as his ears now picked up movement. He tried the lock, it was dead-bolted, but he put his shoulder into it, and it gave. Stefan was seated in the middle of the room, his face wet with blood. There was an empty donor's bag in his hand. A freezer, that hadn't been there a week before, stood open. It was stocked high with blood products.
Damon felt his rage run high, but tamped it down. Now was not a good time to lose it.
“Enjoying your snack, are you?” he asked.
“You're not in a position to judge,” Stefan said lowly.
Damon gave him a long look. “You do realise Elena is out in the hall, practically senseless from blood lust, don't you? You can't just lead a fledging to this much blood, and then not expect her to lose it...she's barely hanging on by her fingernails.”
“I didn't...” Stefan started. “I came down here to get her some, and then I guess I just lost track of time...”
“You can make your excuses later,” Damon said, as he snatched a bag from the freezer and left the room. Elena hadn't moved from the spot he'd left her, and he sat down beside her. “Here you go,” he said quietly.
She ripped through it voraciously, tilting her head back, so that the blood flowed down her throat more easily. On instinct, he stroked her hair. It felt smooth and fine under his touch.
“Easy,” he said. “There's plenty more.”
“Don't think I don't know!”
Damon looked up to see his brother standing over them, a mutinous expression on his face. “Know what, Stefan?”
“What you want, what you're hoping to get,” Stefan said. “But it's never going to happen. Whether she's human or a Vampire, she's never going to accept who you are. She's never going to want you - not really.”
And then he was gone, retreating upstairs before Damon could formulate an answer. Not that there was one.
Stefan had only spoken the truth, after all.
PART EIGHT
Author: jinxed_wood
Rating: PG13
Category: Drama
Spoilers: Up to 1x19
Warnings: It has vampires?
Show/Bookverse: Show
Summary:Stefan reignites his hunger for human blood, Elena tries to hold on, and Damon ensures he gets his own way...
Author's Notes: This story basically went AU from the end of 1X18, but I shall be incorporating elements of subsequent episodes, like John's machinations, Bonnie distrust and anger, Stefan's struggle with his new thirst for human blood, and general plot points that I feel wouldn't be changed by Elena's Vampirism - needless to say, Elena won't be a part of the Miss Mystic falls competition, although it will feature in this story! Anyways, on with the show!
Previous parts: PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX
----------------
PART SEVEN
Damon liked to think he had a well developed sense of irony, but this situation was definitely stretching it to it's limits. Here he was, with a hungry fledgling Vampire stashed upstairs, listening to the Sheriff devise a plan to dry up his blood supply, while the aforementioned fledgling's uncle tried to weasel his way into spending time with him...alone.
This man wasn't as afraid of him as he should be.
He would have to rectify that.
“Of course. Sheriff,” he said, aloud. “Whatever I can do to help the town, I'm sorry you couldn't contact me earlier - family stuff” He mentally thanked Pearl. He'd been slowly watering down the vervain extract he'd been supplying to the council, after her little visit. The last batch would only lasted a few hours in their systems before it wore off, and the ones who were wearing it, instead of ingesting it, seemed to be friends of Elena rather than the council. He wondered if he'd been too hasty fobbing off Anna, earlier - maybe it wasn't too late to build bridges.
Meanwhile, Sheriff Forbes was nodding understandingly at him. “No need to explain,” she said, “I know how it is raising a teen by yourself. I saw Stefan earlier.”
Damon blinked. Oh, this was just getting better and better...
“How bad was it?” he asked, putting on his responsible older brother face.
“Let's just say he seemed very... boisterous,” the Sheriff said.
“Teens these days, huh?” Damon said, his mind going over implications. He didn't like them; he was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion he knew who the blood thief was.
“Tell me about it,” the Sheriff said, oblivious to his thoughts.
“Sorry to cut into your parental bonding,” Gilbert said, impatiently. “But maybe Damon and I should start immediately on tracking down the source of the blood theft. We don't want to lose any time on this. Who knows what they're up to.”
Sheriff Forbes nodded. “You're right,” she said, getting to her feet. “And if I haven't said it before, I'll say it again - thank you for this. I need all the extra help I can get”
“It's our pleasure, Elizabeth,” said Gilbert. “Anything to help the town. Isn't that right, Damon?”
“Oh, most definitely,” Damon drawled, before he showed the Sheriff to the door, and waved her off.
He waited until the Sheriff's car disappeared from view before he spun on his feet. Jonathan Gilbert was standing in the middle of his parlour as if he owned the place, his arms crossed in front of him. Rage began to build up inside him, but he kept it still, behind a smirk.
“You really have no sense of self preservation, do you?” Damon asked. “And why are you suddenly so hot to track down these vampires? It's a bit selective, isn't it? Considering the many and various Vampires you have the pleasure of knowing - how's Isobel, by the way?”
“Isobel is just fine, and it's really quite simple, actually,” Gilbert said. “I need information. Information that you may be able to get foe me. You see, the other John Gilbert, the one who died a crazed gibbering idiot, thanks to you and your ilk, created something Isobel and I want. Something that one of your little Vampire friends, one that you freed from the crypt, has.”
“And what would that be, John,” Damon asked, suddenly distracted by a new scent. Elena's brother was back. He was circling the house...
“You don't need to know that,” said Gilbert. “All you need to know is a name - Pearl. Ring a bell?”
Damon went still. Well, that answered one question. “Time for you to leave,” he said. “Now.”
“Think again,” Gilbert said. “I'm not going anywhere until I have what I want.”
“Yeah, well the quid pro quo thing kind of flew out the window when you showed your hand,” Damon said. “The only reason I went along with this farce was because I thought you might lead me to Katherine. I guess I was wrong - because, if you knew Katherine, you'd know that Pearl was her best friend.” He gestured at the door. “Leave, before I start getting creative.”
“I'll tell them,” Gilbert spat out. “I'll spill you dirty little secret to the council, and you'll be hunted down.”
“Wrong move,” Damon said, “ Because if you think I'll go quietly, then you don't know me very well. I'll kill each and every one of the people to talk to, and then I'll come after you, rip your ring off, and then rip your head off. Do we understand each other?”
“This isn't over,” Gilbert said lowly.
“Oh yes it is, you just haven't figured it yet,” Damon said, as he pulled open the front door. He glared, with barely concealed rage, as Gilbert stalked out of the house, and slammed it closed. He glanced upstairs, as he passed the stairs. He'd close the curtains in a moment, first he had to deal with the brother.
Jeremy Gilbert was waiting for him on the brightly lit patio area, behind the house. His last trip to the lodge had obviously taught him at least one lesson. Hungry fledgling Vampires don't do family, they just eat them.
“How is she?” he asked, without preamble.
“Hungry,” Damon said.
He nodded unsurely. “I read what happened with Vicki, in her diary,” he said, “How she wanted to kill me.”
“Elena doesn't want to kill you, kid,” Damon said shortly. “Neither did Vicki, for that matter. It's the hunger; emotional ties trigger it... think of it as a kind of compliment.”
Jeremy gave him a long look. “Do you have any idea how twisted that sounds?"
Damon shrugged. “Vampire,” he said simply. “What's in the bag?” he gestured at the satchel at Jeremy's feet.
“Uh, stuff I forgot when I packed the last bag,” he admitted. “The chargers for her phone and ipod, stuff from her bathroom cabinet...I've got her homework from Alaric? I know how stupid that sounds, but I thought she might need the distraction and-”
“Thanks,” Damon said, interrupting before the kid rambled himself into oblivion. He was actually beginning to like Elena's brother. He was obviously terrified out of his mind, but he was still here. That took a kind of courage - the insane kind, but still....
“Is it still too soon to see her?” he asked quietly.
Damon hesitated. “I'd give it a week,” he said eventually. “She'll still be tetchy, but she should be able to keep it in check.”
He nodded. “She's going to miss the Miss Mystic Falls court,” he said. “Jenna got a call from the Founder's event manager this morning, wondering if she was going to turn up for the dance rehearsal.”
“Elena was going to be presented at the Miss Mystic Falls dance...really?” Damon asked, with a smirk. “I didn't think that was Elena's bag.”
“It wasn't,” Jeremy said wryly. “It was Mom's - that's why Jenna isn't kicking up too much of a fuss about Elena's disappearance. She's angry with her, but she's not worried yet. Your little road trip to Georgia set a precedent. She pretty much believes this is Elena's established behaviour pattern when she's upset.”
“Nothing like a dysfunctional family unit to make the lies run smoother,” Damon observed.
“You should know.”
Oh, touché, little bro,” Damon drawled. “Now skedaddle!”
Which he did, with great alacrity.
Damon turned and looked at the house, and wondered why he was still here. He had come back to Mystic Falls for Katherine, and yet somehow found himself playing nursemaid to her doppelgänger - and liking it.
“There must be something wrong with me,” he muttered, and then laughed. There had been something wrong with him for longer than he could remember. It was what attracted Katherine to him, in the first place.
He entered the house, and made short work of the curtains. “Elena, you can come out now,” he called out. There was no answer. Damon frowned as he extended his senses. She wasn't upstairs anymore, and she wasn't on the first floor...he felt a shiver of something he'd rather not identify as he entertained the idea she'd run out into the sun, but he dismissed it almost immediately. Some fledglings couldn't hack it, but something told him that immolation wouldn't be an option Elena would entertain.
That only left the lower levels, under the basement. The bedrock made it difficult for his senses to penetrate them, which is also what made it so easy for his dear departed nephew to betray him, by growing vervain in one of the cells down there. There were also the old servant stairs, at the back of the house, which purposely had no windows, and Elena knew about them.
He made his way into the bowels of the house, and eventually picked up her scent. He found her in the narrow corridor that led to farthest cells. She was crouched down against the wall, her eyes dilated and red with hunger. Her fingers were digging into the ground beneath her, making short work of the packed earth.
“Elena?” he asked.
She didn't answer, and Damon crouched down beside her and looked into her eyes. The blood lust was in the driver's seat, Elena wasn't at home. He put a steadying hand on her shoulder as his nostrils flared, and he suddenly picked up what had set her off. There was blood, a lot of blood.
He glanced at the closed door at the end of the corridor, as his ears now picked up movement. He tried the lock, it was dead-bolted, but he put his shoulder into it, and it gave. Stefan was seated in the middle of the room, his face wet with blood. There was an empty donor's bag in his hand. A freezer, that hadn't been there a week before, stood open. It was stocked high with blood products.
Damon felt his rage run high, but tamped it down. Now was not a good time to lose it.
“Enjoying your snack, are you?” he asked.
“You're not in a position to judge,” Stefan said lowly.
Damon gave him a long look. “You do realise Elena is out in the hall, practically senseless from blood lust, don't you? You can't just lead a fledging to this much blood, and then not expect her to lose it...she's barely hanging on by her fingernails.”
“I didn't...” Stefan started. “I came down here to get her some, and then I guess I just lost track of time...”
“You can make your excuses later,” Damon said, as he snatched a bag from the freezer and left the room. Elena hadn't moved from the spot he'd left her, and he sat down beside her. “Here you go,” he said quietly.
She ripped through it voraciously, tilting her head back, so that the blood flowed down her throat more easily. On instinct, he stroked her hair. It felt smooth and fine under his touch.
“Easy,” he said. “There's plenty more.”
“Don't think I don't know!”
Damon looked up to see his brother standing over them, a mutinous expression on his face. “Know what, Stefan?”
“What you want, what you're hoping to get,” Stefan said. “But it's never going to happen. Whether she's human or a Vampire, she's never going to accept who you are. She's never going to want you - not really.”
And then he was gone, retreating upstairs before Damon could formulate an answer. Not that there was one.
Stefan had only spoken the truth, after all.
PART EIGHT