Fic: Georgia Revival [Vampire Diaries | PG | Elena/Damon, Elena/Stefan | 2/7]
Title Georgia Revival
Author: jinxed_wood
Characters/Pairings: Damon /Elena, Stefan/Elena, ensemble.
Rating: PG
Category: Drama
Spoilers: Yup - better hope you're up to date!
Show/Bookverse: Show
Summary:Damon's visit to Bree takes a turn he never imagines...
Previous Parts: PART ONE
PART TWO
Damon woke up handcuffed to his bed. Not a first, but usually he had company. He eyed the cuffs dubiously before noticing Elena at the edge of the bed, frowning at him.
“Kinky,” he drawled. “I didn't think you had it in you.”
“Think of it as my insurance policy,” Elena said, with a quirk of her lips.
“What? Afraid I'll still bite you?” He smirked. “Only if you really want me to.”
Her lips twitched again, but her shoulders fell into that familiar slant that Damon had privately dubbed her 'I may look real sweet but I'm as stubborn as hell' pose. “You're a terrible liar,” she said. “So you're going to stay right there until Stefan's blood passes through your system.”
Ah. He was so used to having accelerated healing, the lack of pain hadn't even registered until now. “You realise they are a few bodily functions that need to be addressed now that I'm human,” he pointed out. “Food, toilet... sponge baths....” The look she gave him told him she refused to be baited.
“There is an alternative,” she said, and Damon sighed as he saw the glint in her eye.
“You're going to take all the fun out of this, aren't you?”
“You can't leave him stuck outside forever,” she pointed out.
“Try me.”
“Damon!”
“Oh, no, you don't get to be all judgey on me. It isn't you who’s chained to the bed. How did you manage that, by the way?
Her cheeks went pink. “I...uh...got some help.”
Damon's gave her an amused look. “Is this x-rated?”
“Hardly,” Elena said, rolling her eyes. “Bonnie isn't exactly your biggest fan.”
“You're not even going to leave me with any illusions are you?”
“More like delusions,” Elena said sharply, tapping her foot impatiently. “Well?”
Damon gave the handcuffs an experimental tug. Less than twenty four hours ago, he'd have ripped the handcuffs from the bedposts with barely a shrug. He scowled as his stomach growled.
“This is extortion,” he declared.
“You point being?” Elena asked sweetly.
Damon drew in a breath, before bellowing, “Stefan Salvatore, brother dearest, do come in.”
Elena turned on her heels. “See, that wasn't so hard, wasn't it?”
“Hey, where are you going?” he called after her.
“Getting you something to eat.”
He jangled the handcuffs. “Didn't you forget something?” he shouted.
Her laughter tinkled down the hall, and Damon threw his head back on the pillow. Could his day get any worse.
“How did she do it?”
Damon looked at Stefan, who had appeared at the bottom of the bed. He didn’t look happy.
“Your guess is as good as mine, Brother,” Damon said, suddenly feeling tired again. “I”m afraid you're going to have to track down the witch-”
A blur, and Stefan was suddenly leaning over him, eye to eye. “How.”
Damon’s mind went hazy, and his mouth seemed to move of it's own volition. “I saw something silver in her hand...It all happened so fast.”
“Tell me every, single detail”
“I...I...”
“Stefan!”
The haze abruptly faded as Elena's voice broke Stefan's concentration
“Tell me you weren't doing what I think you were doing,” she said flatly.
“I needed to know, Elena,” Stefan said. “And you know as well as I that every time Damon's lips move, another lie pops out.”
Elena gave him a cool look before deliberately unclasping the chain around her neck and stalking towards the bed.
“What are you doing, Elena?” Stefan asked.
“Yeah, Elena, what the hell are you doing?” Damon asked mockingly, not letting the relief show in his voice. “I’m not sure your locket will go with my handcuffs and chains ensemble.”
Elena hesitated, and Damon felt something settle in the pit of his stomach as he saw indecision flicker in her eyes. Something told him he was about to be treated to another one of her 'bright' ideas. Why hadn’t he kept his big mouth shut?
“If you're going to compel him, you might as well use it for something useful,” she said.
Damon suddenly realised what she was thinking. “Don't you dare!”
Elena looked away from him. “Make sure he doesn't kill himself,” she said firmly, before adding, “And that he doesn't ask another vampire to turn him.”
“Elena, I’ll never forgive you,” Damon said warningly. Her mouth tightened but she continued to ignore him.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Stefan said.
“Damn straight it isn’t ,” Damon added. He may as well be a ghost in the room for all the attention they were giving him. The Elena and Stefan show had come to town, and it seemed he didn’t have a speaking part.
“One week,” Elena said. “Just one week.”
Stefan moved uncomfortably. “And what happens then...” he began.
Damon groaned as he watched Elena turned the puppy dog eyes on him and Stefan caved like a house of cards. “One week?” he muttered.
“One week,” Elena repeated firmly.
Slowly, Stefan rounded the bed and grasped his chin so he couldn't look away.
“Don’t do this,” Damon said, desperation creeping in.
Stefan sighed. “Damon , listen carefully to what I say...”
~~~*~*~*~~~
Silently, Damon sat at the table, drinking the tea Elena had laced with vervain. Rage and frustration boiled through him. If there was one thing Damon hadn’t missed from his time as a human, it was the feeling of helplessness. Between the war and his father’s expectations, it had seemed he had little control over his life.
Katherine had changed all that.
And Stefan had made one very vital mistake when he’d compelled him. He didn't make Damon forget that.
His mind worked overtime as he devised a plan. One thing was for certain, he was going to make pretty damned sure he didn't run out of vervain. Compel him once, shame on Stefan, compel him twice....
“Bree...she was a friend of Lexi's,” Stefan said.
Damon nodded. “Bumped into Lexi's lover too - as I'm sure Elena has already told you.”
“Elena said she turned him,” Stefan said, the statement a half question.
Damon rolled his eyes. “Of course she turned him, Stefan, she loved him, and there's nothing romantic about old age and diapers.”
Stefan gave him a long measured look. “You don't think Lexi wouldn't have preferred to have grown old with him?”
“Stefan,” Damon said pointedly. “Bree was her friend, remember? If Lexi wanted to be human again, don't you think she would have obliged?”
Stefan nodded thoughtfully, and Damon could practically feel the tension rise in the air. Technically, Stefan and Elena had already had the talk, but Elena was now seventeen - what about when she was twenty seven, or thirty seven...
“Lexi may not have wanted it, but I do,” Stefan said quietly, catching Elena's eyes. Ah, young love... Stefan really should know better.
But he wasn't going to raise any objections, the sooner he got his dear brother out of the house, the better. Without Stefan's super strength to back her up, Elena's demands were dust in the wind, and it was amazing what they overlooked when they tried to put a straight jacket on his free will. Not once, for instance, did they mention not getting Katherine out of the tomb.
Idiots. It was like they didn’t they know him at all.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Elena eyed Damon across the table. She didn’t trust his sudden meekness. Had she gone too far, asking Stefan to compel him? All she wanted was for him to try being human for a while.
A small little voice in the back of her mind asked her what was she trying to prove? Why did she care? She had to admit to herself she was being more than a little selfish. If she could get Damon to embrace his humanity, to willingly hold onto it, then maybe he’d let go of Stefan, even forgive him... She shook her head, feeling foolish. Human or Vampire, Damon was still Damon, and the problem was still, as ever, Katherine.
Elena froze as she came to a realisation. Of course, Damon hadn’t given up on Katherine yet. That was why he was so quiet. He was plotting...as he ate his vervain laced tea.
I am such an idiot
“Elena,” Stefan said quietly, breaking her line of thought. He inclined his head towards the den and Elena grimaced, but got to her feet.
“You two hurry on back, now, do you hear?” Damon said slyly as she left the table.
Elena bit her lip worriedly. She wondered how she’d gotten to know Damon well enough to know when he was very angry. Maybe she should have left him chained to the bed, after all. The image of Damon handcuffed to the bed popped back into her head, and she felt her cheeks redden again. Okay, maybe not.
“I think Damon is still going to try and break Katherine out of the tomb,” Elena said.
“That pretty much goes without saying,” Stefan said dryly. “But there’s not much he can do now that he’s human. Can you really see Bonnie helping him, now that he’s unable to terrorise her?”
Elena smirked, Stefan had a point. “You always know the right thing to say,” she teased.
“You may not think that in a minute,” Stefan said ruefully.
Elena frowned. “Why?”
“I'm going to Atlanta,” Stefan said.
“But you can’t go now. What about Damon?” Elena burst out. “He needs you here.”
“Damon stopped needing me a long time ago, Elena, if he ever needed me in the first place,” Stefan said. “And I have to know if there is a way to become human again....I need to know.”
Elena took a deep breath, trying not panic. “When are you going?”
“Now.”
“What?”
“The longer I stay, the colder Bree’s trail gets,” Stefan said. .
Impulsively, Elena reached out, clutching at his sweater, feeling the soft wool under her fingers. She pulled him close and he gave into her like he always did. His chin rested on her head, his hands stroking her hair. She breathed him in. Stefan, her haven.
“I love you,” she mumbled into his chest.
“I love you too,” he said back. “But - don't you see - if I can get Bree to make me human, then we can be together,”
“We're already together,” Elena protested.
“Yes,” he admitted. “But I’m still a Vampire, Elena, have you really given any thought to what that means?”
She jerked her head back and glared at him. “Do you really think I haven't thought about this. Of course I have, Stefan, but it doesn't matter to me. As long as I have you, it's enough.”
“But it could be perfect,” Stefan quietly said. “I want you to have a normal life, Elena, a good life, with kids and a partner you can grow old with. I'll be back before you know it. I promise.”
He kissed her. Another good bye kiss; how many of those have they had?
Elena watched silently as he walked upstairs to pack. He didn't look back, didn't even hesitate. The door closed softly, and Elena hugged herself, drawing little comfort from it as her mind reeled.
“Well, that didn’t take him long,” Damon drawled, from behind her.
Elena whirled on her feet. “You!” she bit out, glad for someone to take her frustration out on. “You aren’t going to go near Bonnie, do you hear me?”
“Sorry, Elena,” Damon drawled, “You are not a Vampire and now, thanks to you, I’m now chock full of vervainy goodness. No more commands and demands - and shouldn’t you be toddling on home?”
Elena crossed her arms stubbornly. “And leave you here by yourself? Not likely.”
“Fun, devil may care Elena has left the building ,I see,” Damon observed.
“She fled the premises the moment human I-wanna-die-and-be-turned Damon arrived on the scene,” she said dryly.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Damon tutted, “That’s specist. It’s all a matter of perspective, after all. From my point of view, settling for a mere three score and ten is practically throwing in the towel.”
Elena rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”
“You may not have noticed, Elena, but I’m not laughing,” Damon said flatly. “I’ve been trying to get Katherine out of that tomb for a hundred and forty years, and now I’m so close I can taste it. If you think a mere hindrance like mortality is going to stop me, then you don’t know me very well.”
He stalked out of the room before Elena could drum up an answer, and she found herself standing alone in Salvatore home. Had it really only been two days since she’d decided to be with Stefan and take that final step? So much had changed in such a short time.
“Welcome to my life,” Elena sighed into the empty air.
~~~*~*~*~~~
It was like crawling through molasses. Every movement Damon made seemed to creep slowly and his heart seemed to speed up for no good reason. He actually felt short of breath after running up the stairs. Changing his clothes took minutes instead of moments, and the house seemed more unwieldy and harder to navigate. His sense of smell was almost nonexistent and his eyesight felt impaired, although memory reminded him his eyesight was quite good - for a human.
This was a nightmare - to think there had actually been times he’d missed this. Obviously, nostalgia had painted a prettier picture of humanity.
He pulled on a leather jacket and hunted down his car keys. he needed to get out of this house before he exploded. Getting drunk as a skunk sounded real good right now.
~~~*~*~*~~~
It seemed that it didn’t matter where or not you were mortal. The Grill’s music still sounded like crap, and their bourbon still tasted like over priced swill. He didn’t dare touch the peanuts. He was mortal now, who knew what they would do to them.
The guy sitting to next to him at the bar kept staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but Damon couldn’t place him. Was his memory going as well? Or was that just the bourbon talking? He’d already spotted Elena’s brother in a booth, cosying up to some under aged hottie...now she’d looked strangely familiar. Maybe he’s known her mother...or grandmother....whatever.
He gave a mental shrug and downed another shot. He was here to drown his sorrows, and he was hellbent on fulfilling his mission.
“... you’re Stefan’s brother, aren’t you? I’m Alaric Saltzman, his history teacher.”
The words permeated Damon’s brain, and he squinted at the guy beside him. One of Stefan’s teachers. Great, just great, was he about to be treated to a lecture about truancy? That would just about complete his day.
Across the floor, Damon heard Jeremy’s date laugh out loud, and he froze. He swerved in his seat, and stared at the girl. Was that who he thought it was? She glanced up and caught his eye, and Damon suddenly knew his day was looking up.It was Pearl’s daughter, Annabelle.
He stood up, leaving the teacher dangling mid sentence, and noted her eyes narrowing. She jerked her head in the direction of the back exit and Damon nodded, understanding. She didn’t leave him waiting long.
“Hello, Damon,” she said, slamming him up against the wall as if he was made of air.
“And hello to you too,” he huffed, “Easy with the super strength, I’m a bit on the breakable side at the moment.”
She frowned, looking him up and down. “Are you...human?”
“What gave it away?” Damon asked sarcastically as he waited in vain for the pain to ease. Shit, shit, shit, he hated being this vulnerable.
“How?” she asked.
He decided not to beat around the bush. “Witch.”
“That must have been one very powerful witch - what did she ask for in exchange? Your first born?”
“You think I asked for this? Are you crazy?”
She eyed him dubiously. “Let me get this straight; some witch did this to you against your will?”
“You’d have to have been there,” he ground out.
“I’ll bet,” she said, folding her arms. “So what do you want?”
“That depends, what do you want?” he countered.
Anna rolled her eyes. “Seriously?” She turned to leave.
“Walk away and you’ll never get what you want from the Gilbert kid,” Damon said.
“What makes you think I need something from Jeremy,” she asked, coming to a halt.
“Actually, I said want, not need,” he said. “But thanks for clearing that up for me.”
“Have you got a death wish or something?” Anna asked tartly. “Because it can be arranged.”
“Why are you here?” he asked grimly, ignoring the threat.
“The same reason you’re here, Salvatore, to get into the tomb.”
Damon blinked. “Why?”
Anna snorted. “You really are totally self obsessed, aren’t you,” she sad. “You’re not the only one who lost someone that day, Damon. My mother is trapped in there too.”
“Pearl?” Damon asked. “I though she’d managed to get away.”
“You thought wrong.”
Damon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you need from the Gilbert kid?”
She hesitated. “John Gilbert’s journal,” she eventually admitted.
Damon crossed his arms and smirked. “I think we may be able to come to an arrangement.”
“And what kind of arrangement would that be?”
“Your brawn, my connections... interested?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Do I have any choice? Other than ripping your heart out,that is?”
“Ah, ah, temper, temper - what’s in the journal?”
“Do you think I’m completely stupid?” Anna demanded, exasperated.
“I think you need me to get to the journal and supply the witch - unless you've got one going cheap?”
Her eyes flickered. “As irritating as ever, I see.”
“It's a gift. What’s in the journal?”
“Cross me, and you'll regret the day you were born,” she said flatly.
And then she told him.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Four sobering cups of coffee later, Damon found himself walking up the path to the Gilbert's house. It was strange not being able to hear all the beating hearts inside. He knocked politely on the door, seeing as his usual entrance through a second story window was no longer an option. Elena opened the door.
“Where have you been?” she scolded, like a mother hen. It was all Damon could do not to laugh at her.
“Chilling at the Grill,” he drawled. "Why? Missed me?”
“As if,” she scoffed.
The smell of pizza wafted from the kitchen, and Damon felt his stomach rumble.
“You're like a walking dustbin,” Elena said, hearing it. “Come on, I might as well feed you, seeing as you're here.”
“Take-out, the new food group,” Damon teased, following her.
Jeremy looked up as they entered the kitchen. “Hey, man,”he said, waving a slice in greeting.
Damon swiped a slice from the box and took a hungry bite. Taste was about the only sense he had that didn't seem diminished by becoming human again. He may have to actually start watching his waistline. How depressing.
“So,” he said. “What is new in the house of Gilbert?”
“Dude, don't ask,” Jeremy said, with a roll of his eyes. “Jenna is still pissed about that road trip you took with Elena. How did that happen again?”
“Jeremy..”
Jeremy grinned unrepentantly. “And how is life in the house of Salvatore?”
Damon shrugged. “Same old, same old, been looking through some old family stuff.”
“Oh yeah? So have I,” Jeremy volunteered.
Elena's eyes narrowed as she smelled a rat. “Something we can help you with, Damon?” she asked sweetly.
Damon have her a knowing smile. “Mind if I use the facilities?”
“Upstairs,” Gilbert volunteered. “First door on the left”
Elena watched him leave the room with narrowed eyes, but she couldn’t exactly follow him to the toilet without some very pointed questions from Jeremy. He trotted up the stairs, loudly banged the bathroom door, and then tiptoed as quietly as he could to Jeremy’s room. His bag was on this desk, and Damon carefully rooted inside, bottling down his triumph when his hand curled around the journal. Quickly he slipped it inside his jacket, and made it to the top of the stairs before Elena came looking for him.
She crossed her arms and gave him a suspicious look as he descended the steps. “What are you up to?” she asked lowly.
“Just being neighbourly,” Damon drawled. “Any pizza left?”
Elena rolled her eyes but led him into the kitchen.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Anna was sprawled on the couch when he got home, sipping a glass of blood she’d obviously purloined from his supply.
“Hope you don’t mind,” she said, lifting the glass. “It’s not as if you need it, anymore.”
“Help yourself,” he said, as he made a beeline for the bourbon. Sobriety was overestimated. She watched as he poured, her impatience rolling off her in waves.
“Well?” she asked.
Damon pulled the journal from his jacket. “Ask and ye shall receive,” he said.
In a blur, she was across the room, snatching the journal from his hand.
“You’re welcome, I’m sure,” he drawled.
She ignored him as she flicked through the pages. “I can’t find it,” she muttered.
“Allow me,” Damon said, as he plucked the journal back and looked at the open page, reaching for a table lamp when he realised his now too human eyes couldn't make out the faded ink in the dim light. He leaned on the table and turned the pages, looking for the days surrounding the events at the burning of the church. There were no references to the Emily’s Grimoire, no map with an X marking the spot...nothing except a few oh so memorable words, that he'd heard drop from his father's lips so many times, he had lost count.
“All my real secrets I shall carry to my grave.”
He let out a breath of laughter, before schooling his face. Father had always liked to play with words.
“What? What is it?” Anna asked urgently. “Did you find out where it is?”
Damon gave her a long look. Ideally, this was the moment he should freeze her out. Walk away without looking back. But there was a desperation on her face he couldn't quite turn away from. Also, there was the not so little fact that Annabelle could literally rip his heart out and do a tango on it, and there was nothing he could do about it in his current oh-so-human condition.
He was going to kill Bree when he found her. He was going to kill her slowly.
“We’ll need a witch,” he told her.
“Easier said than done.”
“There’s a couple of Bennet witches still knocking around, but I’m not exactly their favourite person,” Damon said, “You’ll have to do the convincing.”
“She quirked an eyebrow. “Like that, is it?”
“We’ll meet at the tomb,” he replied. “You’ll bring the witches, I’ll bring the Grimoire.”
“She gave him a long look, then nodded. “Tomorrow night?”
“Make it midnight,” he said.
She smirked. “I’ll bring snacks.”
PART THREE
Author: jinxed_wood
Characters/Pairings: Damon /Elena, Stefan/Elena, ensemble.
Rating: PG
Category: Drama
Spoilers: Yup - better hope you're up to date!
Show/Bookverse: Show
Summary:Damon's visit to Bree takes a turn he never imagines...
Previous Parts: PART ONE
PART TWO
Damon woke up handcuffed to his bed. Not a first, but usually he had company. He eyed the cuffs dubiously before noticing Elena at the edge of the bed, frowning at him.
“Kinky,” he drawled. “I didn't think you had it in you.”
“Think of it as my insurance policy,” Elena said, with a quirk of her lips.
“What? Afraid I'll still bite you?” He smirked. “Only if you really want me to.”
Her lips twitched again, but her shoulders fell into that familiar slant that Damon had privately dubbed her 'I may look real sweet but I'm as stubborn as hell' pose. “You're a terrible liar,” she said. “So you're going to stay right there until Stefan's blood passes through your system.”
Ah. He was so used to having accelerated healing, the lack of pain hadn't even registered until now. “You realise they are a few bodily functions that need to be addressed now that I'm human,” he pointed out. “Food, toilet... sponge baths....” The look she gave him told him she refused to be baited.
“There is an alternative,” she said, and Damon sighed as he saw the glint in her eye.
“You're going to take all the fun out of this, aren't you?”
“You can't leave him stuck outside forever,” she pointed out.
“Try me.”
“Damon!”
“Oh, no, you don't get to be all judgey on me. It isn't you who’s chained to the bed. How did you manage that, by the way?
Her cheeks went pink. “I...uh...got some help.”
Damon's gave her an amused look. “Is this x-rated?”
“Hardly,” Elena said, rolling her eyes. “Bonnie isn't exactly your biggest fan.”
“You're not even going to leave me with any illusions are you?”
“More like delusions,” Elena said sharply, tapping her foot impatiently. “Well?”
Damon gave the handcuffs an experimental tug. Less than twenty four hours ago, he'd have ripped the handcuffs from the bedposts with barely a shrug. He scowled as his stomach growled.
“This is extortion,” he declared.
“You point being?” Elena asked sweetly.
Damon drew in a breath, before bellowing, “Stefan Salvatore, brother dearest, do come in.”
Elena turned on her heels. “See, that wasn't so hard, wasn't it?”
“Hey, where are you going?” he called after her.
“Getting you something to eat.”
He jangled the handcuffs. “Didn't you forget something?” he shouted.
Her laughter tinkled down the hall, and Damon threw his head back on the pillow. Could his day get any worse.
“How did she do it?”
Damon looked at Stefan, who had appeared at the bottom of the bed. He didn’t look happy.
“Your guess is as good as mine, Brother,” Damon said, suddenly feeling tired again. “I”m afraid you're going to have to track down the witch-”
A blur, and Stefan was suddenly leaning over him, eye to eye. “How.”
Damon’s mind went hazy, and his mouth seemed to move of it's own volition. “I saw something silver in her hand...It all happened so fast.”
“Tell me every, single detail”
“I...I...”
“Stefan!”
The haze abruptly faded as Elena's voice broke Stefan's concentration
“Tell me you weren't doing what I think you were doing,” she said flatly.
“I needed to know, Elena,” Stefan said. “And you know as well as I that every time Damon's lips move, another lie pops out.”
Elena gave him a cool look before deliberately unclasping the chain around her neck and stalking towards the bed.
“What are you doing, Elena?” Stefan asked.
“Yeah, Elena, what the hell are you doing?” Damon asked mockingly, not letting the relief show in his voice. “I’m not sure your locket will go with my handcuffs and chains ensemble.”
Elena hesitated, and Damon felt something settle in the pit of his stomach as he saw indecision flicker in her eyes. Something told him he was about to be treated to another one of her 'bright' ideas. Why hadn’t he kept his big mouth shut?
“If you're going to compel him, you might as well use it for something useful,” she said.
Damon suddenly realised what she was thinking. “Don't you dare!”
Elena looked away from him. “Make sure he doesn't kill himself,” she said firmly, before adding, “And that he doesn't ask another vampire to turn him.”
“Elena, I’ll never forgive you,” Damon said warningly. Her mouth tightened but she continued to ignore him.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Stefan said.
“Damn straight it isn’t ,” Damon added. He may as well be a ghost in the room for all the attention they were giving him. The Elena and Stefan show had come to town, and it seemed he didn’t have a speaking part.
“One week,” Elena said. “Just one week.”
Stefan moved uncomfortably. “And what happens then...” he began.
Damon groaned as he watched Elena turned the puppy dog eyes on him and Stefan caved like a house of cards. “One week?” he muttered.
“One week,” Elena repeated firmly.
Slowly, Stefan rounded the bed and grasped his chin so he couldn't look away.
“Don’t do this,” Damon said, desperation creeping in.
Stefan sighed. “Damon , listen carefully to what I say...”
~~~*~*~*~~~
Silently, Damon sat at the table, drinking the tea Elena had laced with vervain. Rage and frustration boiled through him. If there was one thing Damon hadn’t missed from his time as a human, it was the feeling of helplessness. Between the war and his father’s expectations, it had seemed he had little control over his life.
Katherine had changed all that.
And Stefan had made one very vital mistake when he’d compelled him. He didn't make Damon forget that.
His mind worked overtime as he devised a plan. One thing was for certain, he was going to make pretty damned sure he didn't run out of vervain. Compel him once, shame on Stefan, compel him twice....
“Bree...she was a friend of Lexi's,” Stefan said.
Damon nodded. “Bumped into Lexi's lover too - as I'm sure Elena has already told you.”
“Elena said she turned him,” Stefan said, the statement a half question.
Damon rolled his eyes. “Of course she turned him, Stefan, she loved him, and there's nothing romantic about old age and diapers.”
Stefan gave him a long measured look. “You don't think Lexi wouldn't have preferred to have grown old with him?”
“Stefan,” Damon said pointedly. “Bree was her friend, remember? If Lexi wanted to be human again, don't you think she would have obliged?”
Stefan nodded thoughtfully, and Damon could practically feel the tension rise in the air. Technically, Stefan and Elena had already had the talk, but Elena was now seventeen - what about when she was twenty seven, or thirty seven...
“Lexi may not have wanted it, but I do,” Stefan said quietly, catching Elena's eyes. Ah, young love... Stefan really should know better.
But he wasn't going to raise any objections, the sooner he got his dear brother out of the house, the better. Without Stefan's super strength to back her up, Elena's demands were dust in the wind, and it was amazing what they overlooked when they tried to put a straight jacket on his free will. Not once, for instance, did they mention not getting Katherine out of the tomb.
Idiots. It was like they didn’t they know him at all.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Elena eyed Damon across the table. She didn’t trust his sudden meekness. Had she gone too far, asking Stefan to compel him? All she wanted was for him to try being human for a while.
A small little voice in the back of her mind asked her what was she trying to prove? Why did she care? She had to admit to herself she was being more than a little selfish. If she could get Damon to embrace his humanity, to willingly hold onto it, then maybe he’d let go of Stefan, even forgive him... She shook her head, feeling foolish. Human or Vampire, Damon was still Damon, and the problem was still, as ever, Katherine.
Elena froze as she came to a realisation. Of course, Damon hadn’t given up on Katherine yet. That was why he was so quiet. He was plotting...as he ate his vervain laced tea.
I am such an idiot
“Elena,” Stefan said quietly, breaking her line of thought. He inclined his head towards the den and Elena grimaced, but got to her feet.
“You two hurry on back, now, do you hear?” Damon said slyly as she left the table.
Elena bit her lip worriedly. She wondered how she’d gotten to know Damon well enough to know when he was very angry. Maybe she should have left him chained to the bed, after all. The image of Damon handcuffed to the bed popped back into her head, and she felt her cheeks redden again. Okay, maybe not.
“I think Damon is still going to try and break Katherine out of the tomb,” Elena said.
“That pretty much goes without saying,” Stefan said dryly. “But there’s not much he can do now that he’s human. Can you really see Bonnie helping him, now that he’s unable to terrorise her?”
Elena smirked, Stefan had a point. “You always know the right thing to say,” she teased.
“You may not think that in a minute,” Stefan said ruefully.
Elena frowned. “Why?”
“I'm going to Atlanta,” Stefan said.
“But you can’t go now. What about Damon?” Elena burst out. “He needs you here.”
“Damon stopped needing me a long time ago, Elena, if he ever needed me in the first place,” Stefan said. “And I have to know if there is a way to become human again....I need to know.”
Elena took a deep breath, trying not panic. “When are you going?”
“Now.”
“What?”
“The longer I stay, the colder Bree’s trail gets,” Stefan said. .
Impulsively, Elena reached out, clutching at his sweater, feeling the soft wool under her fingers. She pulled him close and he gave into her like he always did. His chin rested on her head, his hands stroking her hair. She breathed him in. Stefan, her haven.
“I love you,” she mumbled into his chest.
“I love you too,” he said back. “But - don't you see - if I can get Bree to make me human, then we can be together,”
“We're already together,” Elena protested.
“Yes,” he admitted. “But I’m still a Vampire, Elena, have you really given any thought to what that means?”
She jerked her head back and glared at him. “Do you really think I haven't thought about this. Of course I have, Stefan, but it doesn't matter to me. As long as I have you, it's enough.”
“But it could be perfect,” Stefan quietly said. “I want you to have a normal life, Elena, a good life, with kids and a partner you can grow old with. I'll be back before you know it. I promise.”
He kissed her. Another good bye kiss; how many of those have they had?
Elena watched silently as he walked upstairs to pack. He didn't look back, didn't even hesitate. The door closed softly, and Elena hugged herself, drawing little comfort from it as her mind reeled.
“Well, that didn’t take him long,” Damon drawled, from behind her.
Elena whirled on her feet. “You!” she bit out, glad for someone to take her frustration out on. “You aren’t going to go near Bonnie, do you hear me?”
“Sorry, Elena,” Damon drawled, “You are not a Vampire and now, thanks to you, I’m now chock full of vervainy goodness. No more commands and demands - and shouldn’t you be toddling on home?”
Elena crossed her arms stubbornly. “And leave you here by yourself? Not likely.”
“Fun, devil may care Elena has left the building ,I see,” Damon observed.
“She fled the premises the moment human I-wanna-die-and-be-turned Damon arrived on the scene,” she said dryly.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Damon tutted, “That’s specist. It’s all a matter of perspective, after all. From my point of view, settling for a mere three score and ten is practically throwing in the towel.”
Elena rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”
“You may not have noticed, Elena, but I’m not laughing,” Damon said flatly. “I’ve been trying to get Katherine out of that tomb for a hundred and forty years, and now I’m so close I can taste it. If you think a mere hindrance like mortality is going to stop me, then you don’t know me very well.”
He stalked out of the room before Elena could drum up an answer, and she found herself standing alone in Salvatore home. Had it really only been two days since she’d decided to be with Stefan and take that final step? So much had changed in such a short time.
“Welcome to my life,” Elena sighed into the empty air.
~~~*~*~*~~~
It was like crawling through molasses. Every movement Damon made seemed to creep slowly and his heart seemed to speed up for no good reason. He actually felt short of breath after running up the stairs. Changing his clothes took minutes instead of moments, and the house seemed more unwieldy and harder to navigate. His sense of smell was almost nonexistent and his eyesight felt impaired, although memory reminded him his eyesight was quite good - for a human.
This was a nightmare - to think there had actually been times he’d missed this. Obviously, nostalgia had painted a prettier picture of humanity.
He pulled on a leather jacket and hunted down his car keys. he needed to get out of this house before he exploded. Getting drunk as a skunk sounded real good right now.
~~~*~*~*~~~
It seemed that it didn’t matter where or not you were mortal. The Grill’s music still sounded like crap, and their bourbon still tasted like over priced swill. He didn’t dare touch the peanuts. He was mortal now, who knew what they would do to them.
The guy sitting to next to him at the bar kept staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but Damon couldn’t place him. Was his memory going as well? Or was that just the bourbon talking? He’d already spotted Elena’s brother in a booth, cosying up to some under aged hottie...now she’d looked strangely familiar. Maybe he’s known her mother...or grandmother....whatever.
He gave a mental shrug and downed another shot. He was here to drown his sorrows, and he was hellbent on fulfilling his mission.
“... you’re Stefan’s brother, aren’t you? I’m Alaric Saltzman, his history teacher.”
The words permeated Damon’s brain, and he squinted at the guy beside him. One of Stefan’s teachers. Great, just great, was he about to be treated to a lecture about truancy? That would just about complete his day.
Across the floor, Damon heard Jeremy’s date laugh out loud, and he froze. He swerved in his seat, and stared at the girl. Was that who he thought it was? She glanced up and caught his eye, and Damon suddenly knew his day was looking up.It was Pearl’s daughter, Annabelle.
He stood up, leaving the teacher dangling mid sentence, and noted her eyes narrowing. She jerked her head in the direction of the back exit and Damon nodded, understanding. She didn’t leave him waiting long.
“Hello, Damon,” she said, slamming him up against the wall as if he was made of air.
“And hello to you too,” he huffed, “Easy with the super strength, I’m a bit on the breakable side at the moment.”
She frowned, looking him up and down. “Are you...human?”
“What gave it away?” Damon asked sarcastically as he waited in vain for the pain to ease. Shit, shit, shit, he hated being this vulnerable.
“How?” she asked.
He decided not to beat around the bush. “Witch.”
“That must have been one very powerful witch - what did she ask for in exchange? Your first born?”
“You think I asked for this? Are you crazy?”
She eyed him dubiously. “Let me get this straight; some witch did this to you against your will?”
“You’d have to have been there,” he ground out.
“I’ll bet,” she said, folding her arms. “So what do you want?”
“That depends, what do you want?” he countered.
Anna rolled her eyes. “Seriously?” She turned to leave.
“Walk away and you’ll never get what you want from the Gilbert kid,” Damon said.
“What makes you think I need something from Jeremy,” she asked, coming to a halt.
“Actually, I said want, not need,” he said. “But thanks for clearing that up for me.”
“Have you got a death wish or something?” Anna asked tartly. “Because it can be arranged.”
“Why are you here?” he asked grimly, ignoring the threat.
“The same reason you’re here, Salvatore, to get into the tomb.”
Damon blinked. “Why?”
Anna snorted. “You really are totally self obsessed, aren’t you,” she sad. “You’re not the only one who lost someone that day, Damon. My mother is trapped in there too.”
“Pearl?” Damon asked. “I though she’d managed to get away.”
“You thought wrong.”
Damon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you need from the Gilbert kid?”
She hesitated. “John Gilbert’s journal,” she eventually admitted.
Damon crossed his arms and smirked. “I think we may be able to come to an arrangement.”
“And what kind of arrangement would that be?”
“Your brawn, my connections... interested?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Do I have any choice? Other than ripping your heart out,that is?”
“Ah, ah, temper, temper - what’s in the journal?”
“Do you think I’m completely stupid?” Anna demanded, exasperated.
“I think you need me to get to the journal and supply the witch - unless you've got one going cheap?”
Her eyes flickered. “As irritating as ever, I see.”
“It's a gift. What’s in the journal?”
“Cross me, and you'll regret the day you were born,” she said flatly.
And then she told him.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Four sobering cups of coffee later, Damon found himself walking up the path to the Gilbert's house. It was strange not being able to hear all the beating hearts inside. He knocked politely on the door, seeing as his usual entrance through a second story window was no longer an option. Elena opened the door.
“Where have you been?” she scolded, like a mother hen. It was all Damon could do not to laugh at her.
“Chilling at the Grill,” he drawled. "Why? Missed me?”
“As if,” she scoffed.
The smell of pizza wafted from the kitchen, and Damon felt his stomach rumble.
“You're like a walking dustbin,” Elena said, hearing it. “Come on, I might as well feed you, seeing as you're here.”
“Take-out, the new food group,” Damon teased, following her.
Jeremy looked up as they entered the kitchen. “Hey, man,”he said, waving a slice in greeting.
Damon swiped a slice from the box and took a hungry bite. Taste was about the only sense he had that didn't seem diminished by becoming human again. He may have to actually start watching his waistline. How depressing.
“So,” he said. “What is new in the house of Gilbert?”
“Dude, don't ask,” Jeremy said, with a roll of his eyes. “Jenna is still pissed about that road trip you took with Elena. How did that happen again?”
“Jeremy..”
Jeremy grinned unrepentantly. “And how is life in the house of Salvatore?”
Damon shrugged. “Same old, same old, been looking through some old family stuff.”
“Oh yeah? So have I,” Jeremy volunteered.
Elena's eyes narrowed as she smelled a rat. “Something we can help you with, Damon?” she asked sweetly.
Damon have her a knowing smile. “Mind if I use the facilities?”
“Upstairs,” Gilbert volunteered. “First door on the left”
Elena watched him leave the room with narrowed eyes, but she couldn’t exactly follow him to the toilet without some very pointed questions from Jeremy. He trotted up the stairs, loudly banged the bathroom door, and then tiptoed as quietly as he could to Jeremy’s room. His bag was on this desk, and Damon carefully rooted inside, bottling down his triumph when his hand curled around the journal. Quickly he slipped it inside his jacket, and made it to the top of the stairs before Elena came looking for him.
She crossed her arms and gave him a suspicious look as he descended the steps. “What are you up to?” she asked lowly.
“Just being neighbourly,” Damon drawled. “Any pizza left?”
Elena rolled her eyes but led him into the kitchen.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Anna was sprawled on the couch when he got home, sipping a glass of blood she’d obviously purloined from his supply.
“Hope you don’t mind,” she said, lifting the glass. “It’s not as if you need it, anymore.”
“Help yourself,” he said, as he made a beeline for the bourbon. Sobriety was overestimated. She watched as he poured, her impatience rolling off her in waves.
“Well?” she asked.
Damon pulled the journal from his jacket. “Ask and ye shall receive,” he said.
In a blur, she was across the room, snatching the journal from his hand.
“You’re welcome, I’m sure,” he drawled.
She ignored him as she flicked through the pages. “I can’t find it,” she muttered.
“Allow me,” Damon said, as he plucked the journal back and looked at the open page, reaching for a table lamp when he realised his now too human eyes couldn't make out the faded ink in the dim light. He leaned on the table and turned the pages, looking for the days surrounding the events at the burning of the church. There were no references to the Emily’s Grimoire, no map with an X marking the spot...nothing except a few oh so memorable words, that he'd heard drop from his father's lips so many times, he had lost count.
“All my real secrets I shall carry to my grave.”
He let out a breath of laughter, before schooling his face. Father had always liked to play with words.
“What? What is it?” Anna asked urgently. “Did you find out where it is?”
Damon gave her a long look. Ideally, this was the moment he should freeze her out. Walk away without looking back. But there was a desperation on her face he couldn't quite turn away from. Also, there was the not so little fact that Annabelle could literally rip his heart out and do a tango on it, and there was nothing he could do about it in his current oh-so-human condition.
He was going to kill Bree when he found her. He was going to kill her slowly.
“We’ll need a witch,” he told her.
“Easier said than done.”
“There’s a couple of Bennet witches still knocking around, but I’m not exactly their favourite person,” Damon said, “You’ll have to do the convincing.”
“She quirked an eyebrow. “Like that, is it?”
“We’ll meet at the tomb,” he replied. “You’ll bring the witches, I’ll bring the Grimoire.”
“She gave him a long look, then nodded. “Tomorrow night?”
“Make it midnight,” he said.
She smirked. “I’ll bring snacks.”
PART THREE