Chapter Three

Damon Salvatore was big trouble. There was nothing little about his brand of trouble, and yet, knowing he had returned was like hearing the trumpet sounding the assembly of the old guard.

Damon’s face was the usual impassive nonchalance that they were all familiar with. Arrogant was probably the first word to strike a person's mind when seeing him for the first or second time. It oozed in the set of his shoulders and look in his eyes, just as strong as sensuality did.

Elena knew better. Damon Salvatore might look the part of the big bad vampire, but it was to protect his heart from getting hurt. Maybe it was Katherine that caused the first pain and earned this resolve, but she doubted so. From what she knew, Elena suspected the premature death of his mother was the fertile ground that brought forth this hard cold man.

"Damon." Her head inclined regally in greeting as their small group entered the old barn on Mrs. Flower's property. The old woman never seemed to notice or mind their comings and goings, which was a good thing, given the circumstances that brought them here.

"Elena." Just as regal, he gave her a glance, before sliding on to watch each of them find a seat. Sardonic amusement seemed to hang around his mouth as he stared at Meredith and Alaric sitting close together with clasped hands.

For a moment, Elena feared he'd make a comment on the lost baby, but it passed as his eyes turned to study Matt before coming to rest on his brother.

"You look better." The comment held two messages to it. The first was obvious, after the scuffle the night before, Stefan had looked like a drowned rat. Were it not for Damon’s sudden appearance and aid, Elena had no doubt that Stefan would have been considerably less than ‘better’.

Of course, the other implied message wasn't so nice. It was Damon's snarky way of declaring awareness for Stefan's changed diet.

"You haven't changed." For all that Stefan might have a noble streak, he was still a brother. Sibling rivalry wasn't a new invention by any means.

"Touché, little brother." Damon applauded. Perched almost precariously on a rail, he seemed as at home here as in his car. Leather jacket shone with a black sheen and suited the perfect black pants and the crimson sweater beneath. "So. Your little gang seems shy a few people. Running late?"

Elena sucked a breath in, and shot Matt a desperate look. Everyone here knew exactly who he was referring to, especially Matt.

Oddly enough, Matt's face reflected cynical amusement. "Bonnie's gone, Damon." There was no mistaken the dark humor in his voice, the kind of hidden jibe against Damon's alleged superiority... and a rather malign sense of self-defeat.

Maybe it was her imagination, but a shadow rippled across the vampire's face. "Gone?" He asked sharply, his head turning to give his brother a piercing look. The sardonic laziness, the upper-hand displayed in his body language dissolved away instantly. Bonnie was obviously the necessary key to all of this, and her absence unnerved Damon's pre-arranged plans.

Stefan shrugged. "Day after you. She became very sick, collapsed and disappeared from the hospital less than twenty-four hours after..." What happened after was left unsaid. After Klaus was destroyed, after Elena restored, after Damon had said adieu, after so many things had happened. "We can only assume she's dead after so long and no luck with our searches."

"She was sick, immediately after Klaus' was defeated?" Damon asked. "How so?"

"Sensory deprivation chills, raging fever, nausea, bloodloss from accidentally slicing herself on glass, fatigue, arrhythmia... sick." Meredith's voice was tart but still cool and controlled. "You might have been familiar with the concept, albeit several hundred years ago. Now, you're just dead."

"This isn't going well." Muttered Elena softly. Hostility towards Damon wouldn't help the situation. They had a problem and only together could they do anything about it.

Damon's lips set into a thin line, dark eyes flashing to her face for just a scant moment. "No, it isn't." He growled in agreement. "I'm not playing gallant knight for you all. I have no wish to see Klaus returned as my brother and I are pre-emanate on his most wanted destroyed list. I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine, and that is the way this will work."

"Fair enough." Meredith agreed calmly, like a professional negotiator who had no personal investment in the outcome. "What do you know?"

It was like watching a poker game between two card sharks. Both savvy, both witty and both not giving an inch to the other player as they strived to prove one were better than the other. Coolly Meredith dealt her hand and waited for the return.

"I know the vampires encountered last night are Klaus' childer." Damon folded his arms across his chest, imperiously gazing down at his verbal sparring partner. "They are here to avenge and free their sire. Much like Katherine, they've been groomed and infected with some form of hysteria or insanity towards doing so." He shrugged, tossing Stefan a pointed look. "They've also enjoyed a very stable diet over the past centuries, but recently have been fed something better to cause such a maturation of powers in all. I suspect some Ancient’s are involved, though I’ve encountered none and have no evidence to support my theory."

Meredith nodded, satisfied with his contribution. "Okay. So, we have a pack of vampires at full strength bent on revenge and possible some of Klaus’ kindred waiting in the wings. How do we stop them?" The question was open to the public, she truly wasn’t expecting an answer, just suggestions.

Damon shrugged, indifferently. "We don’t stop them. Or rather, we wouldn’t have to, in other circumstances. Your little friend would have."

Matt made the connection first, but of course, Matt was hyper aware where Bonnie was concerned. "Bonnie?" he lunged forward, not threateningly but with a rather avid interest. "You mean Bonnie. What's she got to do with this? She couldn't kill a fly, much less a vampire or a whole pack of them. News update: Buffy the Vampire Slayer was just a TV show.”

"She stopped Klaus." Damon answered as if that would explain everything.

"Elena did that." Stefan argued.

Elena shook her head. "No. I didn't." She corrected softly. "Not really, did I?” Damon’s hard gaze settled on her once again, this time with grave appraisal. “Bonnie summoned me and the host. She stopped Klaus. We acted using her power." It had taken a few years to look back on that night with any sort of rationality, but as time passed it was easier to recall her existence as a spirit summoned to this plane by a greater power.

"Precisely." Damon nodded in satisfaction, rather like a teacher well pleased with his student.

Matt's mouth trembled, his eyes dancing with laughter. "Oh, that's good. Well then." He stood up, brushing his thighs up to dust off hay and imaginary dirt. "Jerk out the Ouiji board. We'll just give Bonnie a call in the great supernatural beyond and we can clean this up before dinner. Thanks so much! Christ, people, she's dead! Bonnie’s dead! She can't help us!"

Elena winced, shuddering away at the thought and vaguely alarmed that Matt who could have sworn he'd seen Bonnie would give up on her so easily. “We don’t know that for sure!” She protested half-heartedly.

Damon cut into her voice with a growl. "Use your brain, idiot. Your friend is not dead!" He snarled, first at Matt and then at them all. "She can’t be, or things would be much much worse. That girl is the guardian to Klaus' prison. It's her power that sealed him in and it's her being that has to keep him in. If she were dead, he would be free. Fighting the childer hand to hand is not her task; it has nothing to do with what she is meant for. She has to prove her cage is stronger than whatever it is they're trying to do."

"And the childer?"

Damon shrugged, casually indifferent and as if faced with a redundantly obvious question. "We kill them. They aren't originals, they’re just average run of the mill vampires. They can be destroyed. If the Originals involved step in, then we have bigger problems than the childer altogether." It went unsaid, that if the Originals were involved, being destroyed would be a mercy. Despite his cavalier attitude and the alleged superiority he claimed, Damon was of the same blood as Stefan, and he was happy to be destroyed before allowing Klaus claim on the Earth again.

"Just like that, hmm" Matt retorted irritably. "Find Bonnie wherever she is, sic her on the childer, and then kill them. Gee, sounds simple enough. Too simple." His face twisted sourly, eyes rolling up as if to say he knew it was never going to work out so straightforward. “Oh, wait, here’s the twist: if Bonnie’s not dead, why can’t anyone find her?”

"Because she doesn’t want to be found." Meredith sighed. "And I’m guessing finding her just became our first priority, didn’t it?"

"Si." Damon nodded, the arrogance sliding from his face and leaving behind a weary traveler. "Although, this illness of hers… this is not auspicious."

“She felt different.” Stefan offered softly, quietly into the lull that descended over the barn. “That last day I saw her… when we took her to the hospital.” His eyes flicked first to Elena, then Meredith as if entreating them to remember that day and contribute.

Damon and Matt both stared at Stefan transfixed, neither of them looking at either of the girl’s as they spoke up in turn.

“She was so out of it, really disjointed and weird.” Elena breathed, a fist rising to her mouth as the memories rushed painfully in.

“Her heartbeat was erratic, and sluggish. Typical symptoms for bloodloss or aggravated heart disease.” Meredith splayed her hands out flat on her thighs, not even aware of when Alaric took her left hand in his right to reassuringly squeeze. “The bleeding had almost stopped when we got there, and then started again. I don’t even want to know how much blood she lost. The hospital gave her two units while we were there…and after…” She shrugged helplessly. “There’s no way Klaus could be imprisoned if Bonnie were…?”

“None.” Damon bit the word off savagely. “Different how, Stefan?” The gibing tone of voice they’d always known was absent. His brother’s name was spoken without the usual mockery. “In what way did she feel different? Scent? Power? As potential prey?”

Stefan grimaced at the last. “No, never… I never…" He shook his head, refocusing. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I felt her powers changing, of that I’m certain. But, scent? There was so much blood I couldn’t smell anything else. So much blood and power.” He sighed.

“Did you hunger for it?”

Stefan blinked. His jaw opened and closed as a sort of wondered amazement crept across his features. “No. I didn’t.”

“At all?” The eerie earnestness in Damon’s eyes was alarming, persistent and frightening in its dedication.

“No. Not at all. I remember giving her some of my power to rouse her from a torpor, and then… after she mindspoke me, I had to shield my thoughts and hers, she was too disoriented to do anything else.”

Eyebrows arched all around the room. “You never told me that…” Elena gasped.

Stefan shrugged. “At the time, beloved, you couldn’t handle the information, and afterwards, it didn’t seem to matter.” The wry smile softened the words considerably, as did the tender touch of his hand on her cheek.

“What does that mean?” Matt interrupted their moment. “Does it mean anything? Stefan? Damon?”

Damon shrugged, a more dramatic echo of Stefan’s own confusion. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” The older Salvatore answered. “And my little brother’s dietary habits left him poorly suited to sense anything, now didn’t it.” The sour twist of his lips spoke even more disparagingly against Stefan’s humanitarian urges.

“What does it matter.” Alaric spoke his first contribution. “What happened then doesn’t answer where Bonnie is now.”

Damon’s dark eyebrow arched, an enigmatic smile touching his mouth. “Very true.” He praised softly, goadingly. “So, Herr Docteur, where do we start in your opinion?”

“We have two choices.” Alaric took the opportunity unwittingly offered and gave his opinion unstintingly. “Or rather, two ways to approach the question. Either, a) Bonnie was taken from the hospital by force, or b) she left of her own volition. If a) then we need to figure out who would have seized her and where they would have taken her. If it was b) then we can only assume she went to ground for a reason and if just have to figure out where she’d go hide.”

“Scotland.” Elena shot out. “She’d go to Scotland. She loved visiting there, and kept telling us that a person could go to Scotland, find a small town and become anonymous and invisible in their small societies.”

Meredith nodded, casting a radiantly pleased smile on her husband. “I agree.”

“And if she was seized?” Alaric persisted.

“She wasn’t.” Damon’s eyes were distant. “The only individuals with any potential motives are Klaus’ childer. They’re here trying to find a key to release Klaus. If they had Bonnie, they’d have that key.”

“Scotland, then.” Matt breathed, looking up at the ceiling of the barn. “Anyone know a good travel agent?”

“We can’t all go.” Meredith countered. “If attacks are going to start in town, some of us need to be here to keep an eye on the situation.”

Damon’s derisive snort was ignored.

“Agreed.” Stefan folded his arms across his chest. “I propose Matt and Damon go to Scotland. The rest of us, we do what we can here.”

“I hate and loathe Great Britain, little brother.” Damon shot in loftily. “Why don’t you and Boy-Wonder go to the great wet rusty isle and I’ll stay here.”

Stefan’s smile was as unpleasant as it could get. “Why, big brother, to do that would infer that I trusted you not to play mind games on my wife. And I don’t.”

- - - - -

"Passports, please?" The customs agent was a graying woman, the crows feet about her eyes and the lines around her mouth gave all the testimony as to what she thought about her job. It didn't require any degree of genius to measure the sheer boredom and blasé interest in her work from her voice alone.

Of course, Damon noticed a million other details that Matt, his delightful traveling companion on this expedition, missed. Such as the yellowed nails, and the brown tinge to her gumline. "Cancer." He advised sotto voice to Matt. "Of the lungs, most likely. I give her two years at best."

Matt rolled his eyes, pocketing his passport into his jacket. "Charming, Damon. Do you go around accessing everyone's lifespan's with such tender concern for our wellbeing?"

Midnight black eyes stared fathomlessly into the distance. "Not everyone's, no." The vampire replied, almost as if not paying attention. "There are some whose lives I can not read."

"Really?"

"Yes." Damon glanced over at Matt, the direct nature of his gaze disconcerting to anyone. However, Matt had sworn never to let Damon's predatory nature put him on edge. Damon had sworn a blood oath to his brother not to harm a hair on Matt's head, or touch a drop of Matt's blood, and if anything, he had to depend on the strength of the Salvatore's love for oaths.

He would not, no matter how hard the urge was to fight down, ask about what the elder Salvatore brother read into Matt's own lifespan. Knowing Damon, the answer would be 'It depends.' Sighing, Matt hefted his carry-on bag, ruefully chiding himself for the millionth time on not taking Meredith's kind offer and borrowing hers. "There's got to be an easier way to do this." He muttered.

Damon didn't say a word, he just casually strode on past customs and boldly towards security. With the slick grace of a panther on the prowl in his movements, he was disdainfully arrogant, strolling past the admiring glances of the women, and men, around him.

'A prince amongst us mere mortals.' Matt's lips twitched with dark humor. 'Of course he would notice the cattle around him. That would be like a farmer developing feelings of love and tenderness for old Bessie.' So amused with the thoughts, but still keeping general tab on Damon, Matt trudged behind.

The ten-hour flight to Glasgow with Damon as a seatmate was likely to be incredibly trying. Matt had long established that simple tricks like anti-nausea medication that in theory caused drowsiness didn't work on him, so instead he'd brought along his Economics textbook from first year. Nothing like this textbook had been as effective at putting him out.

With his football physique and constant pressure to stay fit for the next season, Matt abstained from the confectionery counter that preceded their gate area. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of water and a Sports Illustrated and then wandered ahead to join Damon.

The vampire was sprawled in one of the black vinyl covered chairs, ankles crossed boldly in the seat of a matching chair opposite him. With his dark shades down, arms folded and face completely relaxed but impassive, a passerby would think the young man was insolently sleeping without consideration for other passengers.

Matt, however, played poker with some of the best and knew a pose when he saw it. "I don't see why you and Stefan couldn't have both stayed in Fell's Church. Elena and I could have made this trip." He commented sourly.

"My little brother doesn't trust you with his wife, either." Damon retorted.

Matt just snorted. "If all these childer are hunting in the Fell's Church area with the goal of raising Klaus, wouldn't Stefan rather you and he were here to deal with it, and Elena safely elsewhere?"

"Have you ever played chess with Stefan?" The sunglasses were lowered, eyebrow raised inquisitively. Matt shook his head. "Do, sometime. It's enlightening as to how Stefan foolishly plots his battles."

“What?” Matt frowned, confused by the reference.

“To protect the Queen, he will sacrifice not the pawns, but the Bishop, the King, everything that leaves the Queen utterly vulnerable.” Damon hadn’t opened his eyes yet, he still looked recumbent, but his tone of voice wasn’t so casual. There was actual concern lying below the surface bite.

Matt briefly closed his eyes, easily understanding everything Damon had implied, and realized that somehow as unpleasant as this trip would be, it would be the safest forty-eight hours of his life. “And I’d choose now to regain nicely suppressed memories. More the fool am I.” He muttered under his breath.

“Indeed.” Damon drawled.

And that was the perfect example of why traveling with a snarky vampire was not mentally healthy. Matt groaned silently inside his head. He wasn’t sure he could do it. “I’m going to get food.” He decided, taking refuge in avoiding the vampire until the flight was boarding.

Damon snorted. “Were it that I could.”

“If you want a burger, I’ll bring one back. Anything other, you’re so on your own.”

Damon’s responding smirk wasn’t comforting, and Matt scurried off.

The waiting room was buzzing with the noise of travelers, equipment operating the terminal, and the steady hum of the ventilation. All in all, sleeping in this ruckus seemed impossible for Damon. In many ways, he missed the centuries preceding this. They were, universally, much quieter times.

Yet, time stood still for no man, even for a vampire and Damon had learned to adapt. He had seventy minutes until the flight should board, and by damn he was not enduring that time watching the cattle or talking to the linebacker he was being forced to travel with. Sleeping through the wait was oh so much more pleasant a concept. With that in mind, he committed his consciousness to ignore the world around him, and let his attention draw deep within.

A rarity for him was to dream. Since his body was technically un-dead, it didn’t channel the electrical impulses in the brain in the same fashion as the living, and REM sleep just didn’t happen. If a medic were to examine him while asleep, the word “dead” would be the first thing to come to the mind. Damon didn’t care, either way. Dead, undead, asleep, awake, the sheer peace of not being fully aware of the cattle around him made the ‘unconscious’ state endearing.

But dreams? Those he sometimes yearned for, but feared all the same. Most occasions when a vision hit him while in his restful state were less ‘dream’ than precognizant warnings of trouble. He was a creature of the night, both a hunter and the hunted at the same time. Precognitive instincts were important for both aspects.

“Even if they’re not all about you?” A warm amused voice chided his mental ramblings. “You care far more than you ever let on, don’t you, Damon. Especially about what kind of crap your little brother will end up rolling in while you’re on a goose-chase.”

His eyes popped open, and despite his best effort, his jaw dropped open. This wasn’t the airport, and that wasn’t Matt sitting across from him. “Bonnie. What a delightful surprise. Where are we?”

She shrugged, her long straight hair cascading like a silken sheet from her shoulders down her back. “It’s your head. You tell me.” She looked around at the dark paneled wood, and the marble floor, her hand stroking the velvet settee she was perched on with appreciation for the softness. “I’m not here, if that’s what you’re asking. And no, I’m not telling. If I wanted to be found, I’d just show up. I don’t.”

“Even if your friend’s could die?”

Brown eyes sparkled. “They’re fine. Klaus’ childer can try all they want, but even if they freed him, it wouldn’t change a thing. In fact, I can guarantee that the last thing Klaus wants is freedom right now.” Her smile widened, teeth pearly white. “Trust me.”

“They are hunting them.”

“Tell them not to go out at night. Take the welcome mat off the front step, and especially tell Meredith and Alaric to keep their dog close to them. Dogs are first warning systems when it comes to the supernatural. Klaus had forty-three children. I’ve destroyed about twenty two of them. Give or take a few surviving… but the odds aren’t favorable. I think what you really need to be doing is finding out where Tyler is hiding. He’s your big problem right now. Vengeful little alliance making Tyler Smallwood. Get some silver bullets. They’ll come in handy, especially tonight during the full moon – just behind Mrs. Flowers place. Don’t get on the plane, Damon. They need you tonight.”

“They want you.”

There was sorrow in her expression then, “No. They don’t. And it’s better this way for all.”

“Bonnie…”

A sudden kick to his leg made him jump, and this time when his eyes truly opened it was Matt’s less than pretty mug frowning down at him. “She was in my head.” He spit out before he could saddle up his aloof.

“They’re calling us to board.” Matt blinked. “Who was in your head?”

“Bonnie. Grab your stuff. We’re not going. She’s not in Scotland. And if she were, she wouldn’t be by the time we got there.” He slung his carry-on bag over his shoulder, and started moving towards the exit, long strides eating the distance. He could hear Matt scrambling to grab his stuff, struggling to catch up.

“What’s going on…?” Matt gasped, his contempt for Damon momentarily gone.

“Bonnie. Had a little chat with her in my head. She doesn’t want to be found, and will go out of her way to make sure she won’t be found. We have a bigger problem, she said. A fuzzy rabid mutt problem by name of Tyler.”

“Oh shit.”

Damon glanced at his watch. It was an hour to sunset. “If we hustle, we can get back just in time for the wolf to start hunting. Was your little coven of friends meeting at Mrs. Flowers tonight?”

“Yes.” Matt groaned. “They are… sitting ducks there. Crap.” His muscled body started to move faster, outpacing the vampire in his haste to get to the exit. “Anything else?”

Damon smiled wolfishly. “Your little friend isn’t so smart.” He stopped at the curb and looked for a cab, before continuing. “She knew too much about what’s going on in Fell’s Church. The reason she can hide so well from us? It’s because she’s already here.”

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