![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[TVD] A Normal Life: Chapter Two
Title: A Normal Life: Chapter Two
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (role reversal AU)
Universe: ANL ("a normal life")
Relationships: Stefan Salvatore / Elena Gilbert, platonic Stefan Salvatore + Damon Salvatore, past Vicki Donovan / Jeremy Gilbert
Summary: Damon wanted a more exciting life than grad school and caring for a kid brother. He got his wish, but not in the way he had exactly expected it.
Notes: An earlier draft of the chapter that was posted on FF.net. Like other chapters, this is left online for posterity.
What...? How...? More importantly, why?
Damon stared blankly at her, trying to formulate some kind of witty response, but words were escaping him. He knew she wanted something in this town - there was no other reason she'd be here - but what would she find at the Gilberts'? Uncle Grayson had left most of his vampire hunting gear at the lake house, back when Elena first entered high school. Only Damon and Elena's uncle John had the keys - and frankly, Damon wasn't keen on letting Bonnie waltz into the safehouse. Not for some dinky stakes and some old crossbows. Bonnie had to take one look at his face before she burst into giggles.
"Cat got your tongue?" She asked, leaning forward and oh-so-seductively reaching for the gunblade necklace around his neck.
Was a centuries-old high school student really hitting on him? Damon instantly recoiled. "Cat doesn't want to end up on Dateline, thank you very much."
"Why would you ever end up on Dateline?"
As always, Jeremy Gilbert had the world's worst timing. Appearing right behind Bonnie, he casually approached Damon as if everything were normal. Even now, dressed in a black hoodie and ragged jeans that reminded Damon of Linkin Park and terrible high school life choices, Jeremy was a welcome distraction. Grinning at Damon, he whispered, "That's Bonnie. She says she really likes me."
Damon only had to take one look at Jeremy's eyes before he internally groaned. If Elena and Stefan starred on network television, Jeremy and Bonnie would star in their very own HBO show - and Jeremy was way too young for sex and violence. Mostly sex, but violence for good measure. Protectively taking Jeremy's arm, Damon narrowed his eyes at Bonnie. "It's a long story. Better question, why is she here?"
Bonnie frowned innocently. "Why, Damon, I thought we were friends." Maybe if she didn't work some mind magic on his little brother!
Jeremy's confusion only gave way to bewilderment. "How did you two even meet?"
Damon started, "An even longer sto---"
"He helped me with directions when I first got here," Bonnie sweetly finished for him.
"Okay, maybe not that long."
Jeremy snorted, looking back and forth between them as if they were an enthralling tennis match. "Are you doing that thing again where you're trying to protect me because of what happened with Vicki?"
"Nnno?" Not quite. Vicki Donovan was a hot mess - no pun intended - because of the circumstances of their relationship (an older girl angling for easy drug access). If Jeremy attempted to pursue anything with Bonnie, it would also be a hot mess that would end with a premature death or two. Damon wasn't so sure his heart could handle it. "I just need to talk to Bonbon for a minute, okay? Tell Jenna that Stefan and I are coming over for Taco Night."
"Ugh," Jeremy groaned, turning to head back towards the kitchen. "I swear, you and Elena are the only ones that actually enjoy it."
Damon waited until the kid stomped out of sight (and hearing range) before he hissed, "Seriously, what are you doing here?"
"I heard the kid's parents were vampire hunters," Bonnie said, folding her arms as she studied Damon up and down. "Just making sure that they're not in the business either. It wouldn't be all fun and games if they tried to hunt me down the same way you did."
"They weren't exactly Van Helsing." Damon narrowed his eyes. "They hated them, yeah, but they wouldn't go out of their way either." It was more of a 'if a vamp attacks, then stake them on sight' kind of thing. "Does this mean you're not trying to kill them?"
"I don't exactly believe in the killing game... but I might make an exception for you." When she directed all of the intensity of those green eyes at him, he could hear his heart racing just a smidge faster. Damon would've felt guilty, had he not already hated vampires to the core.
If she was one of those hippie vegetarian types, he didn't exactly need her in his life. They weren't much better than the real deal. "So that's it? You're here, in this sleepy little town, just to make sure some doctor's kids aren't into the vampire game?"
Her face held the tiniest hints of a smile. "Sounds about right."
"What kind of idiot do you take me for, Bennett? If that's even your real name?"
Her smile only grew wider. "I see you're quick on the uptake. I expected no less from Zachary's oldest boy."
"You knew Dad...?" Damon's voice grew quiet. Dad had never mentioned her. There was no record of her in the Grimoire. Hell, he couldn't even remember a dusty photograph. "How...?"
Just then, Jeremy returned with a slightly disgruntled expression. "Jenna says you'll have to help her. She almost burned the water. Again."
Dammit Jenna! Just when the questions started getting good, her poor cooking skills had to interrupt him. Bonnie couldn't hide her relief - not when it was as plain as day - but Damon's smirk only soured as he headed inside. "How does your aunt even manage that?" He grumbled, mostly to himself. "Must not be cleaning the pots right..."
"Hey!" He could hear Jenna call from the kitchen. "I heard that, Day!"
"Day?" Bonnie looked quizzically at him. "That a family nickname?"
"Kind of." Jeremy's frown only intensified, no doubt from Bonnie's newfound interest in his older brother. "Damon's family, but he's not blood related to us. He and Jenna were really close, and he and my dad were close, so they just kind of started being family too."
Had it come from any other emo-punk teenager, the explanation might have sounded bitter. Despite Jeremy's appearance, grumpy expression and all, his respectful tone spoke volumes. The kid loved Damon, even when it seemed like Day wanted his girl.
So Damon lightly elbowed his kid brother. "Hey. Life too hard for you again?"
"Nnnno," Jeremy responded, rolling his eyes in the over-the-top manner only teenagers could pull off. "It's just... she bought some stuff from me, and I kind of ran out so I brought her back here and then you just kind of came in and..."
"She bought 'some stuff' from you."
Damon must've said it more harshly than he realized, because Jeremy's eyes widened before the kid ducked his head. "Nevermind. You wouldn't get it, anyways."
"Try me." Damon pulled on the kid's arm even harder, turning so that he could slam the poor kid against the wall. "Let's start this conversation again. What did Bonnie Bennett buy from you today?"
"Iiiii think I'm going to go." Bonnie gestured awkwardly towards the door. "I can always come back later--"
"DON'T." Both shouted, in an eerie unison that didn't quite match their rage. Damon extended an arm - not that he needed to - and calmly waved a hand in her face. Bonnie staggered back, leaning on the nearest table for support.
Jeremy instinctively reached for her, only to be stopped by Damon's iron grip. "Whoa. A-are you okay?"
"She'll be fine," Damon's voice deepened as a growl escaped his lips. "Again, what did she buy? Because I swear to god, if it was pharmaceuticals...."
"It wasn't," Bonnie interjected, with genuine concern in her voice. "I just compelled him to think it was."
Damon turned his head to face her. "Oh?"
"Just--just let him go, Damon. I know you care about him, but this time, it was entirely my fault." There was an unspoken statement - that she wasn't out to hurt an innocent - and it was enough for Damon to temporarily drop his guard.
"Did you ask him because you thought he might lead you to something?"
"Yeah." She stepped closer, almost stumbling over the nearest family portrait of Jeremy and Elena. The guilt was only barely gnawing at his chest. "And he did," she said, with another glance at the picture, "so please don't beat him up over whatever stupid drug deals he thought he made today."
Damon silently looked her over, before he finally acquiesced and let Jeremy go. "Fine. Are you...?"
Jeremy stared at them with quiet terror in his eyes. "What are you two talking about?"
Bonnie stepped between them and stared directly into Jeremy's eyes. Watching as his pupils dilated, she then calmly stated, "We were arguing over the game. You've never seen me before. We've never met. If you even see me after we leave, I'm one of Damon's friends." She gestured towards Jeremy, as if to silently ask if Damian had anything to add.
Damon shook his head. He had never been a fan of mentally altering someone's memories, even if it was for a greater cause. "Leave him alone. Get whatever info you need and leave town, or else."
"Or else you'll make my brain go pop?"
He snorted. "Much worse than that." Still, she had actually expressed concern for a mere muggle like Jeremy. Not many vampires wandered around with their souls laid bare for the world to see. "You may not be here to kill people, but I'm not entirely convinced you're good either."
"That's your choice to make," she said softly, releasing Jeremy from her gaze and turning on her heels. "I just hope it's a good one, for your sake."
Just as she headed out the front door and closed it behind her, Aunt Jenna peered up from the oven. "Was that Jeremy's friend? Shame she had to leave so early."
"Yeah," Damon tepidly agreed, his gaze more focused on the (clearly confused) Jeremy. "It really was."
Other than Jenna burning the hot water, Taco Night was a smashing success. Stefan and Elena came through the back door halfway through; Jenna had prepped her famous cheesecake; and Damon had only finished half a bottle of whiskey. Jeremy, of course, had stolen the bottle and stashed it in another part of the house. It had taken one hell of a locator spell to find it again because that boy was becoming more thorough than a hibernating squirrel.
"I don't know how you do it," Jer groaned, watching as Damon had unearthed yet another bottle from the bathroom cabinet. "Day, I'm seriously starting to worry about you."
Stefan, on the other hand, was impressed. "If you sign him up for the 12 Step Plan again, he might win an award for the most attempts in a year."
"Yeah, because you idiots keep giving me pamphlets!" Damon heaved the loudest groan he could manage, which was hard, considering his kid brothers had just burst into laughter.
"Maybe these idiots wouldn't give you pamphlets if you didn't have a problem," Elena lightly teased, leaning over to grab his plate. "After all, isn't the first step acceptance?"
He nearly swatted her in retaliation. Jenna just tsked at him, like she wasn't the one who encouraged his boozy habits in high school, before she too burst into uncontrollable laughter. Some nights, Damon would whine about what he did to deserve these losers - but now he wasn't so sure they deserved him.
Stefan rose to his feet to help her with the dishes. "I'm gonna head out later. Damon, you can go on ahead."
Damon grinned. "Okay, but you're not allowed to spend the night over either." Jeremy and Jenna just exchanged knowing glances, as Damon finished off his glass of water and reached for the keys. As much as Damon loved his kid brother, boundaries were kind of appropriate at this age. "Trust me, I'll know."
Stefan just shook his head in mock exasperation. "How considerate of you."
"I know, right?" Damon lightly ruffled Stefan's hair before he headed out the door. While he had no doubts that the kid would come home eventually, he also figured this would be a good time to rummage through the basement archives. Clearly, Bonnie had done her homework on him, so it was only appropriate for him to do the same in turn.
If she was a Bennett, her records would be somewhere in the 'B' section. Dad had been particularly meticulous about his files - moreso than Stefan sometimes - so locating each one on his tablet wasn't hard. Damon hadn't thought to scan every volume, so after he had exhausted his hard drive, he reached for another set of keys and headed downstairs.
They had just recently renovated their basement so it less resembled old slave quarters and more a family den, with an extra counter bar and stove for visitors (and alchemy). Dad had said they should enter the 21st century with grace, but if Damon were honest, he was certain Dad wanted to assuage the family's White GuiltTM. The Salvatores had kept thorough, detailed records of every white settler that had crossed this town - but as Damon slowly realized, every other race might as well have not existed. Which was increasingly problematic when the girl he was chasing also happened to be black.
Not even the slave purchase receipts yielded much. Their messy handwriting didn't help, and Damon didn't know how much Giuseppe penned about the family slaves. The Salvatores had owned a decent-sized plantation, after all. Giuseppe wasn't exactly close with any of them - or so Damon had thought.
A couple of old photos, tucked away in a weather-worn journal, had yielded him some clues. One picture showed Giuseppe playing the piano with great gusto, with his "handmaiden" Miss Bonnie holding the piano pages for him. Even though they must've been standing still for hours, Damon could see the faint traces of smiles on their faces. Miss Bonnie - the slave in the photo - had perfectly resembled the girl in the town square, right down to the dimples in her cheeks. The other, slightly torn on the edges, was Giuseppe holding some young lady's arm. Dust obscured her face, but they seemed relatively happy, from the tightness of her grip on his arm. Thinking nothing of it, Damon pocketed the journal and photos, locked the files, and headed upstairs.
Just as he was about to lock the basement archives, he noticed Stefan precariously watching from the corner of his eye.
"Did Dad ask you to get something?"
Of course. It must've been the only reason Damon dared to venture into the scary archives, to grab one of Dad's old tax returns. How many years had he spoon-fed that stupid lie to his brother? Damon wasn't sure, and he wasn't certain he wanted to know.
"Um, yeah," Damon said slowly, taking care to tuck the photos into his inner coat pocket. "He said he needed me to scan it before I headed to bed."
Now daring to properly face his little brother, Damon could only guess as to the reason Stefan was here, with Damon's favorite lemon bars and decaffeinated black tea. Stefan wanted something big; the question was just what he wanted.
"Do I need to sign more papers for Model U.N.?" He asked jokingly, staring at the homemade lemon bar. "Because I think I can kill two more trees for you."
Stefan cracked a hint of a smile, despite the obvious worry in his eyes. "No, not at all... though I'm gonna hold you to that one." He'd better; Damon's tree-killing skills didn't always come for free. "I actually wanted to ask you about something. You know a lot about psychics and magic and stuff, right?"
Uh-oh. Damon braced himself for the inevitable - for the lies he'd have to utter just to keep Dad's promise - before Stefan goes, "Because I was reading this novel about alchemists, and I swear, their powers don't sound right. Can you... hear me out a little?"
"Yeah." Damon's shoulders sagged with relief. "Come on, I've got to re-read a paper, but you can tell me all about it in the den." As much as he hated grad school, he didn't have to face the real world while he attended seminars. He could pretend - for just a few years - that he didn't have greater responsibilities like raising a 17 year old boy.
Stefan followed him into the den, set Damon's late-night snack on the table, and relayed him the plot of this new novel he was reading. "There's this guy," Stefan began, lightly tracing a spiral pattern on the table, "This guy who's descended from a family that practices alchemy. He's not one," Stefan said quickly, noticing the look of horror that must've registered on Damon's face, "Or at least, he doesn't think he is.
Then he starts having these really weird dreams, you know? He sees these numbers popping up in his head all the time - 8, 14, 22. I've read a lot of crappy alchemy novels, Damon, and I can't remember a single one where a budding one gets premonitions."
Stefan was right about one thing: typically, alchemists didn't receive omens about the future. That was a warlock's (or wizard's) territory. Dad had hoped that the gene would skip Stefan, that somehow he and Mom wouldn't pass down their gift for magic down... but Damon was starting to wonder if the gift had simply chosen to manifest itself later.
"Alchemists don't, yeah," Damon replied slowly, reaching for the mug of tea. "Psychics get dreams, and sometimes, wizards do too. It kind of depends. Did this guy end up not being an alchemist?"
"Uh..." Stefan's eyes widened, as he stared up at the ceiling, at the clock, at anything that might give him inspiration. "You know what? I have no idea. I didn't exactly get that far."
"You might want to come back to me after the story's over," Damon said with a small chuckle, taking a sip of his tea. Mm, Stefan was getting good at brewing it. "I can't really help you with their skillsets if you haven't gotten halfway through."
"Y-yeah, I guess you're right." Stefan cautiously rose to his feet. "Just out of curiosity, what do you think numbers like that mean?"
In his case? "They're important somehow," Damon ventured to guess. "I don't really know how without any kind of context, but I'd be careful. That character should keep his eyes peeled, because a detail like that isn't put into the narrative for no reason."
Stefan nodded, with the urgency that almost made Damon wish he were testing his brother on this information. The kid should've had a notebook, from the way he was soaking in every word. "Yeah, definitely. You... you don't think the psychic or wizard or whatever's going crazy? That may he worked himself too hard trying to stay ahead in school?"
"No." Damon's entire expression softened, as he broke off a piece of his lemon bar and handed it over to Stefan. "I don't think so. The kid's confused, and scared, but I think those numbers keep popping up in his dreams for a reason, and he should listen to his gut instincts. Those don't usually prove him wrong."
"Thanks." Stefan accepted the lemon bar, taking care to bow his head in gratitude towards his older brother. As much as Damon loved to complain about Stef, he had to admit, his kid bro usually had a good head on his shoulders. "I... uh, I'm sorry if I kept you from working on your thesis. I know it's important."
Damon snorted softly. "Not like I was going to get much done anyhow. You gave me my favorite distractions."
Stefan's smile grew wider, as if Damon had just praised him to the moon, before he turned to leave. Just then, Damon thought he could hear the kid sigh with relief. He must've imagined it, because when he looked up at his brother's retreating figure, all he could sense was the kid's typical brooding attitude. Maybe... maybe he had just misinterpreted the kid's blooming gift for a crappy YA novel.
"Hey! Stefan?"
"Hm?" Stef stopped at the railing, leaning forward to look at his brother better. "What's up?"
"What's the title of the book you're reading? I want to take a crack at it later."
Stef laughed nervously. "You sure? It's not that great."
"Very sure." At the least, it'd be good for a laugh.
"Um... The Pulse Towards Tomorrow." Stefan's shoulders tensed as he gripped the rail just a bit tighter. "I think? I'm remembering the title wrong."
"It's cool." Damon jotted the title down, more for show than any actual intent to find the book. As most grad students knew all too well, he didn't have time to read books for pleasure. "Thanks for the heads-up, bro."
"Sure." Stefan headed into his room and gently closed the door behind him.
Damon took one look at the paper he was supposed to be reading, before sighing and impatiently closing the tab. Stefan might have apologized for distracting Damon, but honestly - after the whole ordeal with Bonnie - anything would've been better than some boring article on Jungian psychology. Facing Your Inner Shadow, bah. With the way his life was going, there'd be more problems than his darkest thoughts by Saturday.
Two days later, Damon finally found the time to run the title through a Google search. As he suspected, The Pulse Towards Tomorrow wasn't a novel about a budding alchemist. It wasn't even a novel: it was a song from some Japanese video game Jeremy liked. While it was certainly catchy - and his Japanese coworker was thoroughly befuddled - the discovery didn't surprise Damon. Stefan didn't lie without some kind of purpose. Those numbers must've meant a lot more to him than he was letting on.
When Damon had first discovered his powers, he was an angry high school sophomore who desperately wanted acceptance. He had this massive crush on Sheena McCullough, this girl in his History class, and he wanted her to like him so badly that he had dark, desperate thoughts about the poor girl's beau. While everyone has dark thoughts every once in a while, Damon wasn't justifying the pain he wanted to inflict on the kid. Especially not when he woke up one morning and heard that Mr. Logan Fell had harrowingly escaped death. The cause - an explosion from his new, shiny car - had shaken Damon to the core. He had dreamt of hot-wiring that car; of ensuring that Logan would never worm his way into Sheena's heart; and snatching Sheena as his very own at Prom.
His dreams were dashed when in his haste to get to school, his hands had slipped and he'd set the kitchen table on fire. Mom only had to take one look at the fire and the horror in Damon's eyes before she calmly closed her eyes and quenched the flames with her willpower.
"It's going to be okay, gattino," she had told him, holding him in her arms and letting him cry on her shoulder. "You're going to get through this. Everything will be alright."
At the time, he hadn't felt like it. He almost killed Logan Fell over some stupid girl! What more proof did he need of his incompetence, if he couldn't even land a date? Yet when he walked into school the next morning, smug Logan had just sneered at him in homeroom, and Mason had tripped the kid over without another word.
"He deserved it, man," Mason had said, as their teacher furiously scribbled down their detention slips. "Don't regret it one bit." His silent support had encouraged Damon to not only stay in school, but also continue to participate in varsity soccer. Without friends like Mason and Jenna, Damon wasn't so sure where he'd be today.
Mom would've known what to tell Stefan. She would've known that her little Stefanizo was growing up, and that he could wield his powers responsibly. She would know to look at him and tell him that he was the strongest little fighter she'd ever seen. Dad may not have vocalized his support, but he would have given Stefan a blank leather-bound journal and told him to start writing his own spells, in the exact same manner he had told Damon. Stefan deserved that kind of moral support. It was a damn shame his parents weren't around when he needed them most.
Damon stared at his phone blankly, hovering over his parents' European number. Logically, he should call them. They'd appreciate a heads-up. Heck, maybe Mom could tell him what to do! After a whole minute of hesitation, he dialed their number. Unsurprisingly, he got their voice mail.
"Hey, Mom and Dad. Just wanted to say that Stef's been feeling kind of crazy lately. I think he might be developing you-know-what, so call me whenever you're free."
He hung up, only to stare straight at his coworker's face. "What?" Damon mouthed at her. "First you question my taste in Japanese music, and now you think my bro's got a STD or something? Deal with it, Misao."
Misao's eyes widened, but she said absolutely nothing as she disappeared back under mounds of paperwork. God, he'd just made a fool of himself again, but at least it wasn't for a stupid cause.
Stefan had sent Damon a text halfway through the school day.
Damon only took one look at the text before he sighed. As much as he loved his brother, Stefan had terrible taste in friends. Mason Lockwood may have been high most of the time, and occasionally he made poor life choices, but Mason had a good heart. Mason's kid nephew Tyler, on the other hand, lacked that sound moral judgment. Not like he expected anything better from Dickwood's only son.
Stefan saw something - some diamond in the rough - that needed a bit of polish, and for better or worse, the two had remained fast friends. Tyler often defended Stef from bullies, and in exchange, Stefan tutored Tyler in various school subjects. Their friendship had systematically broken just about every high school clique barrier known to mankind. If Damon hadn't witnessed it himself, he would've claimed that it was straight out of some kids' TV show.
sure. i get out at 5, so see you around 5:45?
Right at 5:45, Damon parked in front of the main entrance of Mystic Falls High and watched as Stefan and Tyler Lockwood walked through to meet him. Tyler lacked Mason's height - he was about four inches shorter - but what they didn't share in stature, they shared in facial features. Tyler was growing into that Lockwood jaw, and for a brief second, Damon was briefly reminded of his athletic best friend who didn't give a damn about the world.
Then Tyler gave Damon a casual salute, and the moment was broken. Stefan greeted Damon warmly, with his body leaning slightly forwards as he approached his older brother. "Hey. Sorry, I should've told you I gave Tyler a ride this morning."
"It's cool." Damon shrugged, opening the doors for them. "What happened to your car?"
"I'm... not really sure." Stefan pressed his lips together. "It kind of spontaneously combusted from the inside."
"He saw that new girl make a move on Elena, all lesbian-like," Tyler said with a chuckle, licking his lips as he tossed his backpack inside. "And then bam! The car's engine and tires melted - like, onto the ground - and the parking lot starts to crack, like there's a big earthquake. I figure it was a freak heatwave kind of thing." Noticing Damon's concern, Tyler then added hastily, "No one was hurt, man. Only a melted engine and some Quarterbacks unable to take their cars out of the lot."
Just like when he'd watched Logan mack on Sheena one too many times... except worse, because Logan's car had never melted into the asphalt. Damon cast a wary glance towards Stefan. "New girl?"
"Yeah, she was all up in Elena's face." Stefan's face darkened, hunching forward to hide his disgust better. "Asking her about the classes they shared, wondering if she was free after school... I know you're supposed to be nice to the new kid, but she took it to a new level. Like, almost-asked-her-out kind of level." Jealousy was a new look on Stefan, and Damon wasn't certain he liked it. His baby bro was better than this, in every sense of the word.
"She says she's Mrs. Bennett's grandkid," Tyler added after a moment, his glance moving from Stefan to Damon. "Do you know her? Bonnie Bennett? I haven't seen Ms. Abby for a couple of years, but... I think we would've known if she had other kids."
So Bonnie was planning on staying in town for a while. Great, just what Damon needed: a centuries old high school student actually following through on her job description.
"I... maybe?" Damon strained to affect some confusion in his voice, as if the name came as a total surprise to him. "I'd have to double-check. How'd Model UN go?"
"Eh." Tyler pressed his lips together and quickly but casually shook his hand from left to right multiple times. While Tyler had never been the best at school, he had usually enjoyed the grand game of politics - even if it was pretend. "I managed to join Security Council, but Stefan was assigned to the Press this year."
Stefan rolled his eyes. "Better than being on General Assembly. Remember when we had to represent Malaysia, and you didn't realize it was a Muslim country for two whole months? Right up until we were about to leave for Richmond, and then Mrs. Smallwood asks if we thought about dietary restrictions..."
Blood immediately rushed to Tyler's face, causing his cheeks to burn a bright red. "How was I supposed to know?"
"Gee, I would've guessed the call to prayers five times a day made it obvious."
Damon snorted. Sometimes, the Lockwoods seemed so distantly related, and sometimes, they were two identical peas in a pod. God bless that family and their astounding ignorance of world affairs. Blatantly ignoring that he had no idea of how Model UN actually worked, he scanned the parking lot again. "Stef, when did you call the shop? I don't see your car here."
Stefan relaxed his stance slightly, leaning back in his seat. "During lunch. Elena offered us a ride home, but they've got a competition in Whitechapel." The unspoken sentiment - that he didn't want to stick around after the embarrassment of his combusted car and crackled asphalt - said enough. Matt Donovan the star Quarterback wouldn't mention it, but shallow cheerleader Caroline Forbes might. If she spent any more time with Damon, he swore, he would lose more brain cells in a month than most people did in a lifetime. "I would've stuck around, but..."
But Elena thought he needed to take the night off. Any sane person would've insisted on Stefan going home. "But you promised me you'd keep me company at our first meeting," Tyler said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really don't know why Dad insists I do all of these politic things."
"Maybe because he thinks you'd be good at it?" Stefan's expression looked almost hopeful for a second there.
Tyler snorted. "After the Malaysian debacle? It's a miracle I'm still part of the delegation."
"Hey, you used debacle correctly," Damon responded cheerfully. "Maybe there's hope for you after all." Even from the rearview mirror, he could see Tyler scowling at him like some angry puppy. "So what're your plans for tonight, guys? Wild homework parties?"
Stefan shot him a mystified look. "On a Friday night? More like wild sleepover parties with thrilling action flicks."
It was Friday already? No wonder Misao had rushed out of the office in a hurry - she must've had a hot date. For the first time this month, Damon had no big plans for the weekend. Some weeks, he and Mason had Skype dates with an episode of some random police procedural; others, he and Jenna would hit Richmond and for just one night, they could pretend they were two normal 20-somethings out on the prowl. Occasionally, Damon relaxed with a good action thriller and some popcorn.
Before Bonnie waltzed into town, Damon would've said that he wanted something more exciting. He wanted to have lived in New York or LA or Boston or just - or just somewhere that entertained him at all hours of the day. Now, however, a movie sounded like the low-key kind of evening he needed.
Damon snorted. "Like the time you marathoned an entire season of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"
"Those turtles were slamming," Tyler said just as cheerfully, holding up his fingers in an outdated 'cowbunga' motion. "If I remember correctly, a certain someone stuck around for a couple of episodes."
Yeah, against his will!
Completely ignoring Damon's insult towards his show, Stefan released his grasp of Tyler's hand and looked back at his older brother. "Well, do you have plans? If you don't, you could watch something with us. I was thinking a Charlie Chaplin, but Tyler wants something made in the last decade. You'd be the tiebreaker."
"Aw, you sure you wouldn't be up for a good Disney movie? I hear all the girls loved Tangled. Or Snow White, if we're gonna live in 1935."
Stefan smothered a smile, despite his current frustration at the world. "Didn't Elena have to drag you to the theater by the arms?"
Tyler chuckled, hiding his amused expression behind a hand. "He's got you there, man."
Busted by the one girl on Earth who managed to make him a weak kitten when she wasn't even trying. While Jenna had boosted his confidence, 'Lena had been his adorable little sister who tried too hard to grow up (and even when she tried to act sexy, she just couldn't). Damon shook his head, "Then something made in the last decade. We've seen Modern Times way too often."
For a teenage boy, Stefan's tastes sure strayed towards the ancient. No wonder he got along so well with Dad! Just when Damon was certain that his evening plans were cemented with babysitting the boys, his phone buzzed. Stefan reached for it - and in that instant, his eyes widened.
"Wh-what is it?" Tyler peered, snapping in front of Stefan's face. "Earth to Stefan?"
"Oh." Stefan listlessly stared down at Damon's phone. "When I touched you, I saw... a streetlamp. I saw fog, two girls, and those numbers again. 8, 14, 22."
"Hoookay, I think you're out of it." Tyler furrowed his brows in deep thought.
Those words were Damon's cue to drive home faster. Whatever plans he had with the boys could wait. Right now, he needed to drop them off and then figure out just what the hell fog, a streetlamp, two girls, and the numbers 8, 14, and 22 had to do with each other. "You might want a nap first, Stef. Who texted me?"
Stefan shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Uh, Jenna. She wanted to know if you could join her at the Grille tonight before she leaves for her big psych conference."
"Depends. Do you guys want me to stick around or not?"
"Go ahead." Tyler nodded fervently, watching as Stefan typed back a reply. "We'll still be here when you get done." The boys had a point. Usually, when Tyler came over on a Friday night, Tyler just crashed on Stef's bed and didn't leave until mid-Saturday morning (or earlier, if there was sports practice). He paused for a second. "No booze for us either. Not with Stefan being this out of it."
"I'm not going crazy," Stefan protested quietly, placing the phone back in Damon's pocket. "At least, I don't think I am."
Damon could feel his heart slowly crumbling into pieces. "Of course you're not," he replied just as softly, taking care not to affect his usual sarcastic tone. "You're going to be alright, Stefanizo."
The use of his childhood nickname snapped Stefan back to attention. He sat up straighter, staring at his older brother with grateful eyes. "Thanks."
"It's the truth." Even as Damon kept his eyes focused on the road ahead, he couldn't help sneaking a peek at Stefan. The kid was genuinely shell-shocked, like he couldn't believe his older brother's affection for him. Gee, maybe Damon should've made it more obvious over the years. (Or not.) "Just text me if you losers need anything before I get back."
Parking just outside the Manor, Damon unlocked the door and watched the boys pile out with their backpacks. They waved at him before heading back inside. Damon waited until they locked the door before driving off. Normally, he wouldn't have left Stefan in Tyler's hands... but something about Tyler tonight was different. Maybe Dickwood Jr. cared more for his friends than he let on.
Every Friday Night, the Grille bustled with activity. Nearly everyone came to hang out here, when they didn't feel like staying at home with popcorn and a movie. As Damon stepped through the front double doors, he'd almost forgotten why he hated this town. He recognized everyone - and he did mean everyone, from Logan Scumfell to Mr. and Mrs. Dickwood - and the room started to make him feel suffocated.
Since there wasn't a game tonight, most of the high school set was also in attendance. Damon could see some of Stefan's classmates playing a game of pool - though strangely, he saw Jeremy's best friends sans Jeremy. Hopefully the kid had a hot date with a Japanese video game and not some girl wanting more drugs.
Damon didn't have to wait more than a couple of seconds for a waitress to come forward. "Hey."
Damon glanced over at her, pursing his lips when he realized just who was serving him tonight. Vicki Donovan wasn't exactly someone Damon wanted to be around. Sure, she meant well, and Damon felt pity for any child of wild Kelly Donovan, but she had hurt Jeremy badly in the past three weeks. Not only had they gotten into some wild relationship involving drugs but now she refused to acknowledge his very existence. Anyone that hurt Jeremy was on Damon's instant blacklist, no questions asked. Maybe that's why Jeremy stayed home - he must've memorized Vicki's shift schedule.
"Hey, Vick." Damon gave her a polite nod of acknowledgement. "What's good tonight?"
She shrugged, affecting as much apathy as she could, considering that she was stuck here on a Friday night. Most kids would disappear to some wild party after dinner - Damon knew from experience - and as much as he loved some underage booze, he knew these kids needed something better in their lives. Couldn't they have a Battle of the Bands or something? Kids liked those outside of bad movies, right?
"The burgers, I guess?" She reached forward and grabbed him a menu. "You'll probably get the usual."
"But of course." Damon smirked, waving the menu away from his face. As much as he loved food (mainly, cooking food), he was pretty peculiar about how it was prepared. As long as the Grille didn't stray from it - or "forgot" to serve him some bourbon - he would be a happy camper.
Vicki glanced cursorily at the tables. "You sitting alone?"
"I'm... actually with Jenna." Now Damon was scanning the tables too. In true Sommers fashion, his girl still hadn't arrived yet. Maybe the traffic up by Whitmore was worse than usual. He wouldn't be surprised; Fridays tended to wreck havoc on the highway. "Or well, I will be as soon as she gets here."
He heard the door click, and an all-too familiar voice calling, "Here! Sorry! I'm right here!"
Damon held his tongue, desperately biting back the first witty thing that came to mind. "Hey, Jenna."
She tugged at her cardigan, stepping forward so that she was right beside him. "Table for two, Vicki?"
Vicki's entire face lit up the moment she saw Jenna's hand brush against his. For not the first time that night, Damon swore, if anyone thought they were a couple again, he might actually hex someone. "Sure thing. Follow me!"
She ushered them to an empty booth, setting the menus down as they sat down. As usual, Damon ignored the menu, telling her, "Can you get me a Coke and Jenna an Iced Tea with lemon?" Vicki nodded, heading back towards the bar.
Jenna raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed."
"You really shouldn't be." Damon leaned forward on the table, resting his elbows as he better looked at her. Jenna must've been worried about her presentation, to dress her hair up in a loose bun and cake on an additional layer of make-up. Not that she really needed it; she was pretty even in her kitty pajamas. "We've known each other for how many years now? I'd be more surprised if I didn't know what you liked."
"Yeah, well, I don't see you ordering drinks for Mason."
"Mason also lives in Florida." Damon shot her an exasperated look. "Maybe if we were at Disney World, I'd surprise him with a Sprite on the rocks..."
"He seriously still orders that?" Jenna giggled, leaning back in her seat and reaching for a menu. "You'd think one of his girlfriends of the year would've taught him better."
"Apparently not."
The noise level around them was starting to slowly fade. Damon had noticed the various cliques running in and out: the cheerleaders were at a competition, so they weren't around; the geeks had commandeered a table for some card game; the drama club was arguing passionately about a script; the jocks had seized the pool table for a game; and some group Damon couldn't identify was by the dartboard.
He recognized the girl with the darts before he recognized her clique. She narrowed her eyes, holding her arm steady before throwing it squarely in the bullseye. Her companion, one blond jock, held his arm up for a hi-five. "Bonnie, that was awesome!"
"Aw, thanks!" She returned the hi-five, turning to grab another set of darts. Just as she got the box, her eyes met Damon's.
Damon hastily tore his gaze away from her. As much as he hated the bloodsucker, she wasn't actively killing anyone, and he was technically here to give Jenna moral support. If it weren't for Jenna, he'd be home, making sure that Stefan took the nap he so badly needed. Just in case, Damon sent Tyler a text. If Stef's napping, help yourself to whatever. I'm not sure when he'll be up.
In a few seconds, he got Tyler's reply (thanks bro. stef's been asleep for a while. if he's not up by 7 ill do it myself), and his shoulders sagged with relief.
"Checking up on Stefan?"
Damon nodded. "Yeah, Tyler's babysitting him tonight." Which sounded kind of weird coming from his lips, considering how much Damon hated Tyler, but Tyler was also Mason's kid nephew. If Damon couldn't trust Dickwood Jr. with his brother's life, then by extension, he didn't trust Stefan's taste in friends.
Jenna nodded in understanding. "Tyler's a good kid. Jeremy went to Whitechapel with Elena. They said they wouldn't be back until 7:30 or 8:00."
"He did?" Damon blinked back surprise. As far as he'd known, Jeremy had never been particularly interested in dance competitions - even if the girls were hot. Whenever Elena had dragged him to a show, Jeremy had protested so vehemently that he had once gotten himself banned from a high school. (It was an impressive feat, in hindsight.)
Jenna's smile disappeared. "He didn't go, did he."
Damon pressed his lips together. "Probably not. You miiiight want to see where he is."
"Dammit." Jenna sighed, pulling out her own phone. "Speaking of locations, have you seen Vicki? She normally doesn't take this long for drinks."
She really didn't, especially when she indirectly supported a couple. Damon turned his head towards the bar. He recognized the bartender, Ben, from various school functions, but Vicki was absolutely nowhere to be seen. "I'll check up on her." He rose from his seat, heading back towards the front of the restaurant.
After a quick survey with the other waitresses on duty - none of which had seen her in the last ten minutes - Damon decided to head outside. With his luck, she'd decided to take a smoke break without asking someone to cover her section. Typical.
He glanced around the quiet front entrance. No Vicki in sight. There were other entrances, so he then headed towards the alleyway behind the restaurant. As he approached, he could hear a high-pitched wail.
"D-don't you dare...!"
Then even more wailing before something - someone? - slumped to the ground. Damon hastened his pace.
The night air was strangely foggy. It hadn't rained enough - Damon would've remembered it - for the clouds to start to mist around him. If he hadn't left Stefan at home, he would've sworn his kid brother's powers were acting up. The kid had seen fog and a street lamp... Damon warily stared at the Grille's lights. In this fog, they were indistinguishable from the lamp posts.
Well, he was certainly where he needed to be. He inhaled sharply and clasped his hands together to disperse the fog. Just as the mist subsided, he bumped straight into someone else.
Damon stepped back, holding his arm out to steady the other person. "Sorry about that."
"I-it's okay." A shaky - and kind of unfamiliar - voice called in return. Damon didn't exactly recognize the kid. He was tall and blond, built like a typical high-school jock, but his blue eyes were shaken with horror. "I... my sister..."
Then the kid involuntarily looked back at her and rushed back to her side. Gently scooping her into his arms, he motioned towards Damon. "We need to call 911. Now."
Damon could only stare at the blood streaming down from the girl's neck. Vicki Donovan was lying there, unconscious, in what could have been a pool of her own blood.
She tilted her head, as if crashing into solid brick was no big deal, before lunging forward and seizing her attacker. They wrestled on the ground for a few seconds, alternating between punches and dodges, before one of them noticed the looming warlock behind them. Instantly, they pulled themselves apart.
"Aw," one of them said, turning to face Damon oh so innocently. "Did we interrupt your dinner?" She was also high-school age, but with absolutely none of the innocence he expected from that age group. Coyly brushing back her long, wavy black hair, she then quietly took a step towards him.
There was a large '14' embroidered on her shirt, as she stood before a flyer notice for some nearby concert... held August 22nd. Damon's eyes almost gouged out of his head. Shit. Shitshitshit, this was so not what he envisioned when Stefan had lost his marbles. Cautiously, Damon reached for his phone and mentally recited a protection ward.
"Damon?" The girl's sparring partner had a higher-pitched voice he would've known anywhere.
He cast his gaze towards the source of that voice, cloaked by shadows. "Bonnie?"
"Oh?" The newcomer said, her lips widening as she licked them with the tip of her tongue. "You know this guy, Bon?"
"Not really." Bonnie nervously rubbed her elbow, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. Damon could see the pulsing veins under her eyes, the heightened tension in her muscles.... they were going at it full-strength. "Give it a rest, Anna. He's not your next meal."
Damon instinctively stepped back. If he had really just interrupted a vampire catfight, he - and the rest of the Grille - was an easy target by extension. "Ladies, let's not get too hasty."
Anna's entire face lit up. "Hasty? What do you mean? I mean, you already know who we are, so why can't we speed things up a little?"
"Beeecause I'm pretty sure us rednecks aren't fine dining. We kinda like our squirrels too much 'round these parts."
That elicited a laugh from Bonnie's lips. "You're not a redneck."
"No?" Damon turned to face her. "Ain't that a damn shame."
Anna growled. "Seems more like I'm interrupting you two lovebirds. Do me a favor, Bonnie, and stay out of my way."
Without another word, she brushed past Damon as hard as she could. The second her arm contacted his skin, it started to sizzle. Anna yowled, side-stepping him and crashing into the wall again. "Ow!" Staring at her bruised and burnt skin, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Bonnie, you should've told me he was a warlock."
Again? Was he truly the only male magic-user
"Again? I told you, I'm a wizard." He stepped back, narrowing his eyes as he concentrated on her brain. Watching as she sunk to the floor, Damon kept stepping further and further away from them. "BonBon, I don't know who your friend is, but you'd better keep her in line."
"W-wouldn't be so hard if you didn't inter...fere..."
Bonnie sighed, running down to her friend. "Salvatore."
"Nope." Not until he was safely inside. Damon waited until he was safely near those double doors before he released his grasp on Anna's brain. The second he let go, Anna staggered back before making a mad dash into the forest, leaving Bonnie to stand alone in the middle of the deserted alleyway. "Who was she, anyways?"
Bonnie laughed hollowly. "The reason I'm in town in the first place."
[END CHAPTER THREE]
"The reason you're in town in the first place? Her?" Damon felt like a parrot, gesturing wildly to the spot where Anna had once been. He knew that vampires had their own covens sometimes, but actually seeing it in person was another thing. He had always figured those thirsty bloodsuckers had a 'every woman for herself' agenda.
With each passing moment with Bonnie, Damon was starting to learn a lot more about the species he hated the most - and he wasn't liking the twisted perspective. If some vampires were good, then how could he determine which ones he could kill on the spot?
"Yes. Her." Bonnie inhaled sharply. "Anna has some unfinished business, and I'm here to make sure she doesn't kill everyone in the process."
"Vampires can have consciences?"
"Not all of us are coldhearted, Salvatore."
Damon pressed his lips together, tensing his shoulders tighter as he turned his back on Bonnie. "Could've fooled me."
"Could've fooled whom?"
Damon blinked, staring as he saw Jenna peer from inside the Grille's doorway. Had those five minutes already passed, or had Jenna just snuck in when neither of them were looking? "Jenn?"
"Didn't think I'd actually beat you this time, Day." Jenna motioned for him to come inside.
Damon glanced over his shoulder, to see if Bonnie was still around, but only a shadow and shards of broken glass remained. For her sake, he hoped that she found a nice source of blood soon. "Uh, yeah. Looks like traffic was on my side."
=> Damon demands more information on Anna, bc he did not see her in the records
=> Bonnie makes a race remark ("you didn't see me in those files either, did you?")
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (role reversal AU)
Universe: ANL ("a normal life")
Relationships: Stefan Salvatore / Elena Gilbert, platonic Stefan Salvatore + Damon Salvatore, past Vicki Donovan / Jeremy Gilbert
Summary: Damon wanted a more exciting life than grad school and caring for a kid brother. He got his wish, but not in the way he had exactly expected it.
Notes: An earlier draft of the chapter that was posted on FF.net. Like other chapters, this is left online for posterity.
What...? How...? More importantly, why?
Damon stared blankly at her, trying to formulate some kind of witty response, but words were escaping him. He knew she wanted something in this town - there was no other reason she'd be here - but what would she find at the Gilberts'? Uncle Grayson had left most of his vampire hunting gear at the lake house, back when Elena first entered high school. Only Damon and Elena's uncle John had the keys - and frankly, Damon wasn't keen on letting Bonnie waltz into the safehouse. Not for some dinky stakes and some old crossbows. Bonnie had to take one look at his face before she burst into giggles.
"Cat got your tongue?" She asked, leaning forward and oh-so-seductively reaching for the gunblade necklace around his neck.
Was a centuries-old high school student really hitting on him? Damon instantly recoiled. "Cat doesn't want to end up on Dateline, thank you very much."
"Why would you ever end up on Dateline?"
As always, Jeremy Gilbert had the world's worst timing. Appearing right behind Bonnie, he casually approached Damon as if everything were normal. Even now, dressed in a black hoodie and ragged jeans that reminded Damon of Linkin Park and terrible high school life choices, Jeremy was a welcome distraction. Grinning at Damon, he whispered, "That's Bonnie. She says she really likes me."
Damon only had to take one look at Jeremy's eyes before he internally groaned. If Elena and Stefan starred on network television, Jeremy and Bonnie would star in their very own HBO show - and Jeremy was way too young for sex and violence. Mostly sex, but violence for good measure. Protectively taking Jeremy's arm, Damon narrowed his eyes at Bonnie. "It's a long story. Better question, why is she here?"
Bonnie frowned innocently. "Why, Damon, I thought we were friends." Maybe if she didn't work some mind magic on his little brother!
Jeremy's confusion only gave way to bewilderment. "How did you two even meet?"
Damon started, "An even longer sto---"
"He helped me with directions when I first got here," Bonnie sweetly finished for him.
"Okay, maybe not that long."
Jeremy snorted, looking back and forth between them as if they were an enthralling tennis match. "Are you doing that thing again where you're trying to protect me because of what happened with Vicki?"
"Nnno?" Not quite. Vicki Donovan was a hot mess - no pun intended - because of the circumstances of their relationship (an older girl angling for easy drug access). If Jeremy attempted to pursue anything with Bonnie, it would also be a hot mess that would end with a premature death or two. Damon wasn't so sure his heart could handle it. "I just need to talk to Bonbon for a minute, okay? Tell Jenna that Stefan and I are coming over for Taco Night."
"Ugh," Jeremy groaned, turning to head back towards the kitchen. "I swear, you and Elena are the only ones that actually enjoy it."
Damon waited until the kid stomped out of sight (and hearing range) before he hissed, "Seriously, what are you doing here?"
"I heard the kid's parents were vampire hunters," Bonnie said, folding her arms as she studied Damon up and down. "Just making sure that they're not in the business either. It wouldn't be all fun and games if they tried to hunt me down the same way you did."
"They weren't exactly Van Helsing." Damon narrowed his eyes. "They hated them, yeah, but they wouldn't go out of their way either." It was more of a 'if a vamp attacks, then stake them on sight' kind of thing. "Does this mean you're not trying to kill them?"
"I don't exactly believe in the killing game... but I might make an exception for you." When she directed all of the intensity of those green eyes at him, he could hear his heart racing just a smidge faster. Damon would've felt guilty, had he not already hated vampires to the core.
If she was one of those hippie vegetarian types, he didn't exactly need her in his life. They weren't much better than the real deal. "So that's it? You're here, in this sleepy little town, just to make sure some doctor's kids aren't into the vampire game?"
Her face held the tiniest hints of a smile. "Sounds about right."
"What kind of idiot do you take me for, Bennett? If that's even your real name?"
Her smile only grew wider. "I see you're quick on the uptake. I expected no less from Zachary's oldest boy."
"You knew Dad...?" Damon's voice grew quiet. Dad had never mentioned her. There was no record of her in the Grimoire. Hell, he couldn't even remember a dusty photograph. "How...?"
Just then, Jeremy returned with a slightly disgruntled expression. "Jenna says you'll have to help her. She almost burned the water. Again."
Dammit Jenna! Just when the questions started getting good, her poor cooking skills had to interrupt him. Bonnie couldn't hide her relief - not when it was as plain as day - but Damon's smirk only soured as he headed inside. "How does your aunt even manage that?" He grumbled, mostly to himself. "Must not be cleaning the pots right..."
"Hey!" He could hear Jenna call from the kitchen. "I heard that, Day!"
"Day?" Bonnie looked quizzically at him. "That a family nickname?"
"Kind of." Jeremy's frown only intensified, no doubt from Bonnie's newfound interest in his older brother. "Damon's family, but he's not blood related to us. He and Jenna were really close, and he and my dad were close, so they just kind of started being family too."
Had it come from any other emo-punk teenager, the explanation might have sounded bitter. Despite Jeremy's appearance, grumpy expression and all, his respectful tone spoke volumes. The kid loved Damon, even when it seemed like Day wanted his girl.
So Damon lightly elbowed his kid brother. "Hey. Life too hard for you again?"
"Nnnno," Jeremy responded, rolling his eyes in the over-the-top manner only teenagers could pull off. "It's just... she bought some stuff from me, and I kind of ran out so I brought her back here and then you just kind of came in and..."
"She bought 'some stuff' from you."
Damon must've said it more harshly than he realized, because Jeremy's eyes widened before the kid ducked his head. "Nevermind. You wouldn't get it, anyways."
"Try me." Damon pulled on the kid's arm even harder, turning so that he could slam the poor kid against the wall. "Let's start this conversation again. What did Bonnie Bennett buy from you today?"
"Iiiii think I'm going to go." Bonnie gestured awkwardly towards the door. "I can always come back later--"
"DON'T." Both shouted, in an eerie unison that didn't quite match their rage. Damon extended an arm - not that he needed to - and calmly waved a hand in her face. Bonnie staggered back, leaning on the nearest table for support.
Jeremy instinctively reached for her, only to be stopped by Damon's iron grip. "Whoa. A-are you okay?"
"She'll be fine," Damon's voice deepened as a growl escaped his lips. "Again, what did she buy? Because I swear to god, if it was pharmaceuticals...."
"It wasn't," Bonnie interjected, with genuine concern in her voice. "I just compelled him to think it was."
Damon turned his head to face her. "Oh?"
"Just--just let him go, Damon. I know you care about him, but this time, it was entirely my fault." There was an unspoken statement - that she wasn't out to hurt an innocent - and it was enough for Damon to temporarily drop his guard.
"Did you ask him because you thought he might lead you to something?"
"Yeah." She stepped closer, almost stumbling over the nearest family portrait of Jeremy and Elena. The guilt was only barely gnawing at his chest. "And he did," she said, with another glance at the picture, "so please don't beat him up over whatever stupid drug deals he thought he made today."
Damon silently looked her over, before he finally acquiesced and let Jeremy go. "Fine. Are you...?"
Jeremy stared at them with quiet terror in his eyes. "What are you two talking about?"
Bonnie stepped between them and stared directly into Jeremy's eyes. Watching as his pupils dilated, she then calmly stated, "We were arguing over the game. You've never seen me before. We've never met. If you even see me after we leave, I'm one of Damon's friends." She gestured towards Jeremy, as if to silently ask if Damian had anything to add.
Damon shook his head. He had never been a fan of mentally altering someone's memories, even if it was for a greater cause. "Leave him alone. Get whatever info you need and leave town, or else."
"Or else you'll make my brain go pop?"
He snorted. "Much worse than that." Still, she had actually expressed concern for a mere muggle like Jeremy. Not many vampires wandered around with their souls laid bare for the world to see. "You may not be here to kill people, but I'm not entirely convinced you're good either."
"That's your choice to make," she said softly, releasing Jeremy from her gaze and turning on her heels. "I just hope it's a good one, for your sake."
Just as she headed out the front door and closed it behind her, Aunt Jenna peered up from the oven. "Was that Jeremy's friend? Shame she had to leave so early."
"Yeah," Damon tepidly agreed, his gaze more focused on the (clearly confused) Jeremy. "It really was."
Other than Jenna burning the hot water, Taco Night was a smashing success. Stefan and Elena came through the back door halfway through; Jenna had prepped her famous cheesecake; and Damon had only finished half a bottle of whiskey. Jeremy, of course, had stolen the bottle and stashed it in another part of the house. It had taken one hell of a locator spell to find it again because that boy was becoming more thorough than a hibernating squirrel.
"I don't know how you do it," Jer groaned, watching as Damon had unearthed yet another bottle from the bathroom cabinet. "Day, I'm seriously starting to worry about you."
Stefan, on the other hand, was impressed. "If you sign him up for the 12 Step Plan again, he might win an award for the most attempts in a year."
"Yeah, because you idiots keep giving me pamphlets!" Damon heaved the loudest groan he could manage, which was hard, considering his kid brothers had just burst into laughter.
"Maybe these idiots wouldn't give you pamphlets if you didn't have a problem," Elena lightly teased, leaning over to grab his plate. "After all, isn't the first step acceptance?"
He nearly swatted her in retaliation. Jenna just tsked at him, like she wasn't the one who encouraged his boozy habits in high school, before she too burst into uncontrollable laughter. Some nights, Damon would whine about what he did to deserve these losers - but now he wasn't so sure they deserved him.
Stefan rose to his feet to help her with the dishes. "I'm gonna head out later. Damon, you can go on ahead."
Damon grinned. "Okay, but you're not allowed to spend the night over either." Jeremy and Jenna just exchanged knowing glances, as Damon finished off his glass of water and reached for the keys. As much as Damon loved his kid brother, boundaries were kind of appropriate at this age. "Trust me, I'll know."
Stefan just shook his head in mock exasperation. "How considerate of you."
"I know, right?" Damon lightly ruffled Stefan's hair before he headed out the door. While he had no doubts that the kid would come home eventually, he also figured this would be a good time to rummage through the basement archives. Clearly, Bonnie had done her homework on him, so it was only appropriate for him to do the same in turn.
If she was a Bennett, her records would be somewhere in the 'B' section. Dad had been particularly meticulous about his files - moreso than Stefan sometimes - so locating each one on his tablet wasn't hard. Damon hadn't thought to scan every volume, so after he had exhausted his hard drive, he reached for another set of keys and headed downstairs.
They had just recently renovated their basement so it less resembled old slave quarters and more a family den, with an extra counter bar and stove for visitors (and alchemy). Dad had said they should enter the 21st century with grace, but if Damon were honest, he was certain Dad wanted to assuage the family's White GuiltTM. The Salvatores had kept thorough, detailed records of every white settler that had crossed this town - but as Damon slowly realized, every other race might as well have not existed. Which was increasingly problematic when the girl he was chasing also happened to be black.
Not even the slave purchase receipts yielded much. Their messy handwriting didn't help, and Damon didn't know how much Giuseppe penned about the family slaves. The Salvatores had owned a decent-sized plantation, after all. Giuseppe wasn't exactly close with any of them - or so Damon had thought.
A couple of old photos, tucked away in a weather-worn journal, had yielded him some clues. One picture showed Giuseppe playing the piano with great gusto, with his "handmaiden" Miss Bonnie holding the piano pages for him. Even though they must've been standing still for hours, Damon could see the faint traces of smiles on their faces. Miss Bonnie - the slave in the photo - had perfectly resembled the girl in the town square, right down to the dimples in her cheeks. The other, slightly torn on the edges, was Giuseppe holding some young lady's arm. Dust obscured her face, but they seemed relatively happy, from the tightness of her grip on his arm. Thinking nothing of it, Damon pocketed the journal and photos, locked the files, and headed upstairs.
Just as he was about to lock the basement archives, he noticed Stefan precariously watching from the corner of his eye.
"Did Dad ask you to get something?"
Of course. It must've been the only reason Damon dared to venture into the scary archives, to grab one of Dad's old tax returns. How many years had he spoon-fed that stupid lie to his brother? Damon wasn't sure, and he wasn't certain he wanted to know.
"Um, yeah," Damon said slowly, taking care to tuck the photos into his inner coat pocket. "He said he needed me to scan it before I headed to bed."
Now daring to properly face his little brother, Damon could only guess as to the reason Stefan was here, with Damon's favorite lemon bars and decaffeinated black tea. Stefan wanted something big; the question was just what he wanted.
"Do I need to sign more papers for Model U.N.?" He asked jokingly, staring at the homemade lemon bar. "Because I think I can kill two more trees for you."
Stefan cracked a hint of a smile, despite the obvious worry in his eyes. "No, not at all... though I'm gonna hold you to that one." He'd better; Damon's tree-killing skills didn't always come for free. "I actually wanted to ask you about something. You know a lot about psychics and magic and stuff, right?"
Uh-oh. Damon braced himself for the inevitable - for the lies he'd have to utter just to keep Dad's promise - before Stefan goes, "Because I was reading this novel about alchemists, and I swear, their powers don't sound right. Can you... hear me out a little?"
"Yeah." Damon's shoulders sagged with relief. "Come on, I've got to re-read a paper, but you can tell me all about it in the den." As much as he hated grad school, he didn't have to face the real world while he attended seminars. He could pretend - for just a few years - that he didn't have greater responsibilities like raising a 17 year old boy.
Stefan followed him into the den, set Damon's late-night snack on the table, and relayed him the plot of this new novel he was reading. "There's this guy," Stefan began, lightly tracing a spiral pattern on the table, "This guy who's descended from a family that practices alchemy. He's not one," Stefan said quickly, noticing the look of horror that must've registered on Damon's face, "Or at least, he doesn't think he is.
Then he starts having these really weird dreams, you know? He sees these numbers popping up in his head all the time - 8, 14, 22. I've read a lot of crappy alchemy novels, Damon, and I can't remember a single one where a budding one gets premonitions."
Stefan was right about one thing: typically, alchemists didn't receive omens about the future. That was a warlock's (or wizard's) territory. Dad had hoped that the gene would skip Stefan, that somehow he and Mom wouldn't pass down their gift for magic down... but Damon was starting to wonder if the gift had simply chosen to manifest itself later.
"Alchemists don't, yeah," Damon replied slowly, reaching for the mug of tea. "Psychics get dreams, and sometimes, wizards do too. It kind of depends. Did this guy end up not being an alchemist?"
"Uh..." Stefan's eyes widened, as he stared up at the ceiling, at the clock, at anything that might give him inspiration. "You know what? I have no idea. I didn't exactly get that far."
"You might want to come back to me after the story's over," Damon said with a small chuckle, taking a sip of his tea. Mm, Stefan was getting good at brewing it. "I can't really help you with their skillsets if you haven't gotten halfway through."
"Y-yeah, I guess you're right." Stefan cautiously rose to his feet. "Just out of curiosity, what do you think numbers like that mean?"
In his case? "They're important somehow," Damon ventured to guess. "I don't really know how without any kind of context, but I'd be careful. That character should keep his eyes peeled, because a detail like that isn't put into the narrative for no reason."
Stefan nodded, with the urgency that almost made Damon wish he were testing his brother on this information. The kid should've had a notebook, from the way he was soaking in every word. "Yeah, definitely. You... you don't think the psychic or wizard or whatever's going crazy? That may he worked himself too hard trying to stay ahead in school?"
"No." Damon's entire expression softened, as he broke off a piece of his lemon bar and handed it over to Stefan. "I don't think so. The kid's confused, and scared, but I think those numbers keep popping up in his dreams for a reason, and he should listen to his gut instincts. Those don't usually prove him wrong."
"Thanks." Stefan accepted the lemon bar, taking care to bow his head in gratitude towards his older brother. As much as Damon loved to complain about Stef, he had to admit, his kid bro usually had a good head on his shoulders. "I... uh, I'm sorry if I kept you from working on your thesis. I know it's important."
Damon snorted softly. "Not like I was going to get much done anyhow. You gave me my favorite distractions."
Stefan's smile grew wider, as if Damon had just praised him to the moon, before he turned to leave. Just then, Damon thought he could hear the kid sigh with relief. He must've imagined it, because when he looked up at his brother's retreating figure, all he could sense was the kid's typical brooding attitude. Maybe... maybe he had just misinterpreted the kid's blooming gift for a crappy YA novel.
"Hey! Stefan?"
"Hm?" Stef stopped at the railing, leaning forward to look at his brother better. "What's up?"
"What's the title of the book you're reading? I want to take a crack at it later."
Stef laughed nervously. "You sure? It's not that great."
"Very sure." At the least, it'd be good for a laugh.
"Um... The Pulse Towards Tomorrow." Stefan's shoulders tensed as he gripped the rail just a bit tighter. "I think? I'm remembering the title wrong."
"It's cool." Damon jotted the title down, more for show than any actual intent to find the book. As most grad students knew all too well, he didn't have time to read books for pleasure. "Thanks for the heads-up, bro."
"Sure." Stefan headed into his room and gently closed the door behind him.
Damon took one look at the paper he was supposed to be reading, before sighing and impatiently closing the tab. Stefan might have apologized for distracting Damon, but honestly - after the whole ordeal with Bonnie - anything would've been better than some boring article on Jungian psychology. Facing Your Inner Shadow, bah. With the way his life was going, there'd be more problems than his darkest thoughts by Saturday.
Two days later, Damon finally found the time to run the title through a Google search. As he suspected, The Pulse Towards Tomorrow wasn't a novel about a budding alchemist. It wasn't even a novel: it was a song from some Japanese video game Jeremy liked. While it was certainly catchy - and his Japanese coworker was thoroughly befuddled - the discovery didn't surprise Damon. Stefan didn't lie without some kind of purpose. Those numbers must've meant a lot more to him than he was letting on.
When Damon had first discovered his powers, he was an angry high school sophomore who desperately wanted acceptance. He had this massive crush on Sheena McCullough, this girl in his History class, and he wanted her to like him so badly that he had dark, desperate thoughts about the poor girl's beau. While everyone has dark thoughts every once in a while, Damon wasn't justifying the pain he wanted to inflict on the kid. Especially not when he woke up one morning and heard that Mr. Logan Fell had harrowingly escaped death. The cause - an explosion from his new, shiny car - had shaken Damon to the core. He had dreamt of hot-wiring that car; of ensuring that Logan would never worm his way into Sheena's heart; and snatching Sheena as his very own at Prom.
His dreams were dashed when in his haste to get to school, his hands had slipped and he'd set the kitchen table on fire. Mom only had to take one look at the fire and the horror in Damon's eyes before she calmly closed her eyes and quenched the flames with her willpower.
"It's going to be okay, gattino," she had told him, holding him in her arms and letting him cry on her shoulder. "You're going to get through this. Everything will be alright."
At the time, he hadn't felt like it. He almost killed Logan Fell over some stupid girl! What more proof did he need of his incompetence, if he couldn't even land a date? Yet when he walked into school the next morning, smug Logan had just sneered at him in homeroom, and Mason had tripped the kid over without another word.
"He deserved it, man," Mason had said, as their teacher furiously scribbled down their detention slips. "Don't regret it one bit." His silent support had encouraged Damon to not only stay in school, but also continue to participate in varsity soccer. Without friends like Mason and Jenna, Damon wasn't so sure where he'd be today.
Mom would've known what to tell Stefan. She would've known that her little Stefanizo was growing up, and that he could wield his powers responsibly. She would know to look at him and tell him that he was the strongest little fighter she'd ever seen. Dad may not have vocalized his support, but he would have given Stefan a blank leather-bound journal and told him to start writing his own spells, in the exact same manner he had told Damon. Stefan deserved that kind of moral support. It was a damn shame his parents weren't around when he needed them most.
Damon stared at his phone blankly, hovering over his parents' European number. Logically, he should call them. They'd appreciate a heads-up. Heck, maybe Mom could tell him what to do! After a whole minute of hesitation, he dialed their number. Unsurprisingly, he got their voice mail.
"Hey, Mom and Dad. Just wanted to say that Stef's been feeling kind of crazy lately. I think he might be developing you-know-what, so call me whenever you're free."
He hung up, only to stare straight at his coworker's face. "What?" Damon mouthed at her. "First you question my taste in Japanese music, and now you think my bro's got a STD or something? Deal with it, Misao."
Misao's eyes widened, but she said absolutely nothing as she disappeared back under mounds of paperwork. God, he'd just made a fool of himself again, but at least it wasn't for a stupid cause.
Stefan had sent Damon a text halfway through the school day.
Car broke down. Elena has a cheer competition so I can't stay with her. Mind giving me and Tyler a ride home after Model UN?
Damon only took one look at the text before he sighed. As much as he loved his brother, Stefan had terrible taste in friends. Mason Lockwood may have been high most of the time, and occasionally he made poor life choices, but Mason had a good heart. Mason's kid nephew Tyler, on the other hand, lacked that sound moral judgment. Not like he expected anything better from Dickwood's only son.
Stefan saw something - some diamond in the rough - that needed a bit of polish, and for better or worse, the two had remained fast friends. Tyler often defended Stef from bullies, and in exchange, Stefan tutored Tyler in various school subjects. Their friendship had systematically broken just about every high school clique barrier known to mankind. If Damon hadn't witnessed it himself, he would've claimed that it was straight out of some kids' TV show.
sure. i get out at 5, so see you around 5:45?
Sounds good. We'll see you then. :)
Right at 5:45, Damon parked in front of the main entrance of Mystic Falls High and watched as Stefan and Tyler Lockwood walked through to meet him. Tyler lacked Mason's height - he was about four inches shorter - but what they didn't share in stature, they shared in facial features. Tyler was growing into that Lockwood jaw, and for a brief second, Damon was briefly reminded of his athletic best friend who didn't give a damn about the world.
Then Tyler gave Damon a casual salute, and the moment was broken. Stefan greeted Damon warmly, with his body leaning slightly forwards as he approached his older brother. "Hey. Sorry, I should've told you I gave Tyler a ride this morning."
"It's cool." Damon shrugged, opening the doors for them. "What happened to your car?"
"I'm... not really sure." Stefan pressed his lips together. "It kind of spontaneously combusted from the inside."
"He saw that new girl make a move on Elena, all lesbian-like," Tyler said with a chuckle, licking his lips as he tossed his backpack inside. "And then bam! The car's engine and tires melted - like, onto the ground - and the parking lot starts to crack, like there's a big earthquake. I figure it was a freak heatwave kind of thing." Noticing Damon's concern, Tyler then added hastily, "No one was hurt, man. Only a melted engine and some Quarterbacks unable to take their cars out of the lot."
Just like when he'd watched Logan mack on Sheena one too many times... except worse, because Logan's car had never melted into the asphalt. Damon cast a wary glance towards Stefan. "New girl?"
"Yeah, she was all up in Elena's face." Stefan's face darkened, hunching forward to hide his disgust better. "Asking her about the classes they shared, wondering if she was free after school... I know you're supposed to be nice to the new kid, but she took it to a new level. Like, almost-asked-her-out kind of level." Jealousy was a new look on Stefan, and Damon wasn't certain he liked it. His baby bro was better than this, in every sense of the word.
"She says she's Mrs. Bennett's grandkid," Tyler added after a moment, his glance moving from Stefan to Damon. "Do you know her? Bonnie Bennett? I haven't seen Ms. Abby for a couple of years, but... I think we would've known if she had other kids."
So Bonnie was planning on staying in town for a while. Great, just what Damon needed: a centuries old high school student actually following through on her job description.
"I... maybe?" Damon strained to affect some confusion in his voice, as if the name came as a total surprise to him. "I'd have to double-check. How'd Model UN go?"
"Eh." Tyler pressed his lips together and quickly but casually shook his hand from left to right multiple times. While Tyler had never been the best at school, he had usually enjoyed the grand game of politics - even if it was pretend. "I managed to join Security Council, but Stefan was assigned to the Press this year."
Stefan rolled his eyes. "Better than being on General Assembly. Remember when we had to represent Malaysia, and you didn't realize it was a Muslim country for two whole months? Right up until we were about to leave for Richmond, and then Mrs. Smallwood asks if we thought about dietary restrictions..."
Blood immediately rushed to Tyler's face, causing his cheeks to burn a bright red. "How was I supposed to know?"
"Gee, I would've guessed the call to prayers five times a day made it obvious."
Damon snorted. Sometimes, the Lockwoods seemed so distantly related, and sometimes, they were two identical peas in a pod. God bless that family and their astounding ignorance of world affairs. Blatantly ignoring that he had no idea of how Model UN actually worked, he scanned the parking lot again. "Stef, when did you call the shop? I don't see your car here."
Stefan relaxed his stance slightly, leaning back in his seat. "During lunch. Elena offered us a ride home, but they've got a competition in Whitechapel." The unspoken sentiment - that he didn't want to stick around after the embarrassment of his combusted car and crackled asphalt - said enough. Matt Donovan the star Quarterback wouldn't mention it, but shallow cheerleader Caroline Forbes might. If she spent any more time with Damon, he swore, he would lose more brain cells in a month than most people did in a lifetime. "I would've stuck around, but..."
But Elena thought he needed to take the night off. Any sane person would've insisted on Stefan going home. "But you promised me you'd keep me company at our first meeting," Tyler said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really don't know why Dad insists I do all of these politic things."
"Maybe because he thinks you'd be good at it?" Stefan's expression looked almost hopeful for a second there.
Tyler snorted. "After the Malaysian debacle? It's a miracle I'm still part of the delegation."
"Hey, you used debacle correctly," Damon responded cheerfully. "Maybe there's hope for you after all." Even from the rearview mirror, he could see Tyler scowling at him like some angry puppy. "So what're your plans for tonight, guys? Wild homework parties?"
Stefan shot him a mystified look. "On a Friday night? More like wild sleepover parties with thrilling action flicks."
It was Friday already? No wonder Misao had rushed out of the office in a hurry - she must've had a hot date. For the first time this month, Damon had no big plans for the weekend. Some weeks, he and Mason had Skype dates with an episode of some random police procedural; others, he and Jenna would hit Richmond and for just one night, they could pretend they were two normal 20-somethings out on the prowl. Occasionally, Damon relaxed with a good action thriller and some popcorn.
Before Bonnie waltzed into town, Damon would've said that he wanted something more exciting. He wanted to have lived in New York or LA or Boston or just - or just somewhere that entertained him at all hours of the day. Now, however, a movie sounded like the low-key kind of evening he needed.
Damon snorted. "Like the time you marathoned an entire season of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"
"Those turtles were slamming," Tyler said just as cheerfully, holding up his fingers in an outdated 'cowbunga' motion. "If I remember correctly, a certain someone stuck around for a couple of episodes."
Yeah, against his will!
Completely ignoring Damon's insult towards his show, Stefan released his grasp of Tyler's hand and looked back at his older brother. "Well, do you have plans? If you don't, you could watch something with us. I was thinking a Charlie Chaplin, but Tyler wants something made in the last decade. You'd be the tiebreaker."
"Aw, you sure you wouldn't be up for a good Disney movie? I hear all the girls loved Tangled. Or Snow White, if we're gonna live in 1935."
Stefan smothered a smile, despite his current frustration at the world. "Didn't Elena have to drag you to the theater by the arms?"
Tyler chuckled, hiding his amused expression behind a hand. "He's got you there, man."
Busted by the one girl on Earth who managed to make him a weak kitten when she wasn't even trying. While Jenna had boosted his confidence, 'Lena had been his adorable little sister who tried too hard to grow up (and even when she tried to act sexy, she just couldn't). Damon shook his head, "Then something made in the last decade. We've seen Modern Times way too often."
For a teenage boy, Stefan's tastes sure strayed towards the ancient. No wonder he got along so well with Dad! Just when Damon was certain that his evening plans were cemented with babysitting the boys, his phone buzzed. Stefan reached for it - and in that instant, his eyes widened.
"Wh-what is it?" Tyler peered, snapping in front of Stefan's face. "Earth to Stefan?"
"Oh." Stefan listlessly stared down at Damon's phone. "When I touched you, I saw... a streetlamp. I saw fog, two girls, and those numbers again. 8, 14, 22."
"Hoookay, I think you're out of it." Tyler furrowed his brows in deep thought.
Those words were Damon's cue to drive home faster. Whatever plans he had with the boys could wait. Right now, he needed to drop them off and then figure out just what the hell fog, a streetlamp, two girls, and the numbers 8, 14, and 22 had to do with each other. "You might want a nap first, Stef. Who texted me?"
Stefan shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Uh, Jenna. She wanted to know if you could join her at the Grille tonight before she leaves for her big psych conference."
"Depends. Do you guys want me to stick around or not?"
"Go ahead." Tyler nodded fervently, watching as Stefan typed back a reply. "We'll still be here when you get done." The boys had a point. Usually, when Tyler came over on a Friday night, Tyler just crashed on Stef's bed and didn't leave until mid-Saturday morning (or earlier, if there was sports practice). He paused for a second. "No booze for us either. Not with Stefan being this out of it."
"I'm not going crazy," Stefan protested quietly, placing the phone back in Damon's pocket. "At least, I don't think I am."
Damon could feel his heart slowly crumbling into pieces. "Of course you're not," he replied just as softly, taking care not to affect his usual sarcastic tone. "You're going to be alright, Stefanizo."
The use of his childhood nickname snapped Stefan back to attention. He sat up straighter, staring at his older brother with grateful eyes. "Thanks."
"It's the truth." Even as Damon kept his eyes focused on the road ahead, he couldn't help sneaking a peek at Stefan. The kid was genuinely shell-shocked, like he couldn't believe his older brother's affection for him. Gee, maybe Damon should've made it more obvious over the years. (Or not.) "Just text me if you losers need anything before I get back."
Parking just outside the Manor, Damon unlocked the door and watched the boys pile out with their backpacks. They waved at him before heading back inside. Damon waited until they locked the door before driving off. Normally, he wouldn't have left Stefan in Tyler's hands... but something about Tyler tonight was different. Maybe Dickwood Jr. cared more for his friends than he let on.
Every Friday Night, the Grille bustled with activity. Nearly everyone came to hang out here, when they didn't feel like staying at home with popcorn and a movie. As Damon stepped through the front double doors, he'd almost forgotten why he hated this town. He recognized everyone - and he did mean everyone, from Logan Scumfell to Mr. and Mrs. Dickwood - and the room started to make him feel suffocated.
Since there wasn't a game tonight, most of the high school set was also in attendance. Damon could see some of Stefan's classmates playing a game of pool - though strangely, he saw Jeremy's best friends sans Jeremy. Hopefully the kid had a hot date with a Japanese video game and not some girl wanting more drugs.
Damon didn't have to wait more than a couple of seconds for a waitress to come forward. "Hey."
Damon glanced over at her, pursing his lips when he realized just who was serving him tonight. Vicki Donovan wasn't exactly someone Damon wanted to be around. Sure, she meant well, and Damon felt pity for any child of wild Kelly Donovan, but she had hurt Jeremy badly in the past three weeks. Not only had they gotten into some wild relationship involving drugs but now she refused to acknowledge his very existence. Anyone that hurt Jeremy was on Damon's instant blacklist, no questions asked. Maybe that's why Jeremy stayed home - he must've memorized Vicki's shift schedule.
"Hey, Vick." Damon gave her a polite nod of acknowledgement. "What's good tonight?"
She shrugged, affecting as much apathy as she could, considering that she was stuck here on a Friday night. Most kids would disappear to some wild party after dinner - Damon knew from experience - and as much as he loved some underage booze, he knew these kids needed something better in their lives. Couldn't they have a Battle of the Bands or something? Kids liked those outside of bad movies, right?
"The burgers, I guess?" She reached forward and grabbed him a menu. "You'll probably get the usual."
"But of course." Damon smirked, waving the menu away from his face. As much as he loved food (mainly, cooking food), he was pretty peculiar about how it was prepared. As long as the Grille didn't stray from it - or "forgot" to serve him some bourbon - he would be a happy camper.
Vicki glanced cursorily at the tables. "You sitting alone?"
"I'm... actually with Jenna." Now Damon was scanning the tables too. In true Sommers fashion, his girl still hadn't arrived yet. Maybe the traffic up by Whitmore was worse than usual. He wouldn't be surprised; Fridays tended to wreck havoc on the highway. "Or well, I will be as soon as she gets here."
He heard the door click, and an all-too familiar voice calling, "Here! Sorry! I'm right here!"
Damon held his tongue, desperately biting back the first witty thing that came to mind. "Hey, Jenna."
She tugged at her cardigan, stepping forward so that she was right beside him. "Table for two, Vicki?"
Vicki's entire face lit up the moment she saw Jenna's hand brush against his. For not the first time that night, Damon swore, if anyone thought they were a couple again, he might actually hex someone. "Sure thing. Follow me!"
She ushered them to an empty booth, setting the menus down as they sat down. As usual, Damon ignored the menu, telling her, "Can you get me a Coke and Jenna an Iced Tea with lemon?" Vicki nodded, heading back towards the bar.
Jenna raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed."
"You really shouldn't be." Damon leaned forward on the table, resting his elbows as he better looked at her. Jenna must've been worried about her presentation, to dress her hair up in a loose bun and cake on an additional layer of make-up. Not that she really needed it; she was pretty even in her kitty pajamas. "We've known each other for how many years now? I'd be more surprised if I didn't know what you liked."
"Yeah, well, I don't see you ordering drinks for Mason."
"Mason also lives in Florida." Damon shot her an exasperated look. "Maybe if we were at Disney World, I'd surprise him with a Sprite on the rocks..."
"He seriously still orders that?" Jenna giggled, leaning back in her seat and reaching for a menu. "You'd think one of his girlfriends of the year would've taught him better."
"Apparently not."
The noise level around them was starting to slowly fade. Damon had noticed the various cliques running in and out: the cheerleaders were at a competition, so they weren't around; the geeks had commandeered a table for some card game; the drama club was arguing passionately about a script; the jocks had seized the pool table for a game; and some group Damon couldn't identify was by the dartboard.
He recognized the girl with the darts before he recognized her clique. She narrowed her eyes, holding her arm steady before throwing it squarely in the bullseye. Her companion, one blond jock, held his arm up for a hi-five. "Bonnie, that was awesome!"
"Aw, thanks!" She returned the hi-five, turning to grab another set of darts. Just as she got the box, her eyes met Damon's.
Damon hastily tore his gaze away from her. As much as he hated the bloodsucker, she wasn't actively killing anyone, and he was technically here to give Jenna moral support. If it weren't for Jenna, he'd be home, making sure that Stefan took the nap he so badly needed. Just in case, Damon sent Tyler a text. If Stef's napping, help yourself to whatever. I'm not sure when he'll be up.
In a few seconds, he got Tyler's reply (thanks bro. stef's been asleep for a while. if he's not up by 7 ill do it myself), and his shoulders sagged with relief.
"Checking up on Stefan?"
Damon nodded. "Yeah, Tyler's babysitting him tonight." Which sounded kind of weird coming from his lips, considering how much Damon hated Tyler, but Tyler was also Mason's kid nephew. If Damon couldn't trust Dickwood Jr. with his brother's life, then by extension, he didn't trust Stefan's taste in friends.
Jenna nodded in understanding. "Tyler's a good kid. Jeremy went to Whitechapel with Elena. They said they wouldn't be back until 7:30 or 8:00."
"He did?" Damon blinked back surprise. As far as he'd known, Jeremy had never been particularly interested in dance competitions - even if the girls were hot. Whenever Elena had dragged him to a show, Jeremy had protested so vehemently that he had once gotten himself banned from a high school. (It was an impressive feat, in hindsight.)
Jenna's smile disappeared. "He didn't go, did he."
Damon pressed his lips together. "Probably not. You miiiight want to see where he is."
"Dammit." Jenna sighed, pulling out her own phone. "Speaking of locations, have you seen Vicki? She normally doesn't take this long for drinks."
She really didn't, especially when she indirectly supported a couple. Damon turned his head towards the bar. He recognized the bartender, Ben, from various school functions, but Vicki was absolutely nowhere to be seen. "I'll check up on her." He rose from his seat, heading back towards the front of the restaurant.
After a quick survey with the other waitresses on duty - none of which had seen her in the last ten minutes - Damon decided to head outside. With his luck, she'd decided to take a smoke break without asking someone to cover her section. Typical.
He glanced around the quiet front entrance. No Vicki in sight. There were other entrances, so he then headed towards the alleyway behind the restaurant. As he approached, he could hear a high-pitched wail.
"D-don't you dare...!"
Then even more wailing before something - someone? - slumped to the ground. Damon hastened his pace.
The night air was strangely foggy. It hadn't rained enough - Damon would've remembered it - for the clouds to start to mist around him. If he hadn't left Stefan at home, he would've sworn his kid brother's powers were acting up. The kid had seen fog and a street lamp... Damon warily stared at the Grille's lights. In this fog, they were indistinguishable from the lamp posts.
Well, he was certainly where he needed to be. He inhaled sharply and clasped his hands together to disperse the fog. Just as the mist subsided, he bumped straight into someone else.
Damon stepped back, holding his arm out to steady the other person. "Sorry about that."
"I-it's okay." A shaky - and kind of unfamiliar - voice called in return. Damon didn't exactly recognize the kid. He was tall and blond, built like a typical high-school jock, but his blue eyes were shaken with horror. "I... my sister..."
Then the kid involuntarily looked back at her and rushed back to her side. Gently scooping her into his arms, he motioned towards Damon. "We need to call 911. Now."
Damon could only stare at the blood streaming down from the girl's neck. Vicki Donovan was lying there, unconscious, in what could have been a pool of her own blood.
She tilted her head, as if crashing into solid brick was no big deal, before lunging forward and seizing her attacker. They wrestled on the ground for a few seconds, alternating between punches and dodges, before one of them noticed the looming warlock behind them. Instantly, they pulled themselves apart.
"Aw," one of them said, turning to face Damon oh so innocently. "Did we interrupt your dinner?" She was also high-school age, but with absolutely none of the innocence he expected from that age group. Coyly brushing back her long, wavy black hair, she then quietly took a step towards him.
There was a large '14' embroidered on her shirt, as she stood before a flyer notice for some nearby concert... held August 22nd. Damon's eyes almost gouged out of his head. Shit. Shitshitshit, this was so not what he envisioned when Stefan had lost his marbles. Cautiously, Damon reached for his phone and mentally recited a protection ward.
"Damon?" The girl's sparring partner had a higher-pitched voice he would've known anywhere.
He cast his gaze towards the source of that voice, cloaked by shadows. "Bonnie?"
"Oh?" The newcomer said, her lips widening as she licked them with the tip of her tongue. "You know this guy, Bon?"
"Not really." Bonnie nervously rubbed her elbow, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. Damon could see the pulsing veins under her eyes, the heightened tension in her muscles.... they were going at it full-strength. "Give it a rest, Anna. He's not your next meal."
Damon instinctively stepped back. If he had really just interrupted a vampire catfight, he - and the rest of the Grille - was an easy target by extension. "Ladies, let's not get too hasty."
Anna's entire face lit up. "Hasty? What do you mean? I mean, you already know who we are, so why can't we speed things up a little?"
"Beeecause I'm pretty sure us rednecks aren't fine dining. We kinda like our squirrels too much 'round these parts."
That elicited a laugh from Bonnie's lips. "You're not a redneck."
"No?" Damon turned to face her. "Ain't that a damn shame."
Anna growled. "Seems more like I'm interrupting you two lovebirds. Do me a favor, Bonnie, and stay out of my way."
Without another word, she brushed past Damon as hard as she could. The second her arm contacted his skin, it started to sizzle. Anna yowled, side-stepping him and crashing into the wall again. "Ow!" Staring at her bruised and burnt skin, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Bonnie, you should've told me he was a warlock."
Again? Was he truly the only male magic-user
"Again? I told you, I'm a wizard." He stepped back, narrowing his eyes as he concentrated on her brain. Watching as she sunk to the floor, Damon kept stepping further and further away from them. "BonBon, I don't know who your friend is, but you'd better keep her in line."
"W-wouldn't be so hard if you didn't inter...fere..."
Bonnie sighed, running down to her friend. "Salvatore."
"Nope." Not until he was safely inside. Damon waited until he was safely near those double doors before he released his grasp on Anna's brain. The second he let go, Anna staggered back before making a mad dash into the forest, leaving Bonnie to stand alone in the middle of the deserted alleyway. "Who was she, anyways?"
Bonnie laughed hollowly. "The reason I'm in town in the first place."
[END CHAPTER THREE]
"The reason you're in town in the first place? Her?" Damon felt like a parrot, gesturing wildly to the spot where Anna had once been. He knew that vampires had their own covens sometimes, but actually seeing it in person was another thing. He had always figured those thirsty bloodsuckers had a 'every woman for herself' agenda.
With each passing moment with Bonnie, Damon was starting to learn a lot more about the species he hated the most - and he wasn't liking the twisted perspective. If some vampires were good, then how could he determine which ones he could kill on the spot?
"Yes. Her." Bonnie inhaled sharply. "Anna has some unfinished business, and I'm here to make sure she doesn't kill everyone in the process."
"Vampires can have consciences?"
"Not all of us are coldhearted, Salvatore."
Damon pressed his lips together, tensing his shoulders tighter as he turned his back on Bonnie. "Could've fooled me."
"Could've fooled whom?"
Damon blinked, staring as he saw Jenna peer from inside the Grille's doorway. Had those five minutes already passed, or had Jenna just snuck in when neither of them were looking? "Jenn?"
"Didn't think I'd actually beat you this time, Day." Jenna motioned for him to come inside.
Damon glanced over his shoulder, to see if Bonnie was still around, but only a shadow and shards of broken glass remained. For her sake, he hoped that she found a nice source of blood soon. "Uh, yeah. Looks like traffic was on my side."
=> Damon demands more information on Anna, bc he did not see her in the records
=> Bonnie makes a race remark ("you didn't see me in those files either, did you?")