Sprinting Fox: Unwritten

OC x Enzo St. John

This chapter is for my OC, Mallorie Whitmore, who would have been paired with Enzo St. John.

_

October 6, 2011

Damon was afraid to click the 'call' button.

Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes had acquired for him the phone number of the woman he was trying to reach. All he had to do was press the stupid button, tell her what she needed to know, and everything would be fine.

He wasn't sure he believed that.

He already felt like crap. Just last night, he and Elena had broken up, with Damon proclaiming she needed to stop defending him, that he didn't want to change her, that he preferred to let her go. It killed him inside but he knew, he just knew it was what needed to be done.

Damon should have been feeling happy considering that today, Katherine was on her deathbed. Today, the woman who tormented him and his brother would die and he'd have some peace. He would have loved to be at her side, tormenting her, but Liz had asked him to give her a break when she handed the papers detailing the contact information he requested.

He might as well face his fears.

The button was pressed. He waited. Waited some more. At last, he heard her soft voice, "Yes?"

"Hey," he said, as gently as he could muster. "Hey, Mal."

There was a beat of silence. "What the hell are you calling me for?" she sneered, voice laced with a venom he'd never heard from her. "Fifty years after you ruined my life, just the way yours was ruined, and you have the audacity to try and bother me? You know what, fuck you–"

"Wait," he blurted out before she could hang up. "It's about Enzo."

"Oh," she replied coldly. "So you want to talk about Enzo? Yes, Damon, let's talk about Enzo, the friend you left to die in that horrible, horrible building."

"He's alive, Mal."

Another beat. "That's impossible. I don't appreciate prank calls and you digging up old history just to hurt me."

"It's not a lie. I saw him with my own eyes. Heard his voice. He's alive. Does the name Wesley Maxfield ring a bell to you?"

"Maxfield," she repeated, tone much different. "It was my mother's maiden name. The Maxfields were long-time friends of the Whitmores."

"Yeah, well, turns out the Maxfields were running Augustine these past few years. Someone saved Enzo that night. And they've had him in that same cell ever since. You interested now?"

She hesitated. "You killed almost my entire family that night, Damon. And since then, I've heard you killed my brother, his wife, his twins, their spouses. Why the hell should I believe you?"

"You're going to have to trust me on this one. Come to Mystic Falls. You won't regret it. You can show up at the Boarding House whenever you're ready."

She hung up, and left him wondering if she was still calling bullshit, or beginning to have her doubts.

"Here," said Damon, offering Enzo his few drops of the week to ensure he didn't desiccate.

"Thanks, mate," said Enzo, reaching around the bars to accept the droplets onto his fingertip, then placing it in his mouth. "Only one more month of this and we will be free. I can smell it already."

They heard footsteps overhead. The door to the dungeon opened, and Dr. Whitmore trailed in, though he wasn't alone this time.

"Woah," said the young man behind him. "That is insane. This place is so cool..."