𝕍𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕊𝕦𝕔𝕜 ⦉ᴛᴠᴅ⦊

Ch 26. Miss Mystic Falls 👑

The room was cloaked in shadows, the dim lighting casting an almost ethereal glow over Stefan's glistening form as he pushed himself through another grueling set of push-ups. The muffled baseline of an indie track pulsed through the walls, its driving beat echoing the intensity of his exertions.

The door flew open, the sudden intrusion of light from the hallway causing Stefan to squint. Damon swaggered in, a crystal tumbler clutched loosely in his hand, the deep crimson liquid inside sloshing dangerously close to the rim with each cocky stride. A smirk played across his lips as he appraised his brother's regimented routine.

"Need to turn that up a few notches?" he drawled, nodding towards the stereo. "It's not quite annoying me yet."

Without breaking his rhythm, Stefan paused the music, sweat glistening on his furrowed brow. "Sorry," he mumbled, his focus laser-sharp as he powered through another set of reps.

With a flick of his wrist, Damon clicked off the speakers, saturating the room in tense silence, punctuated only by Stefan's controlled exhalations. He sauntered closer, eyeing his brother with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"So," he began conversationally, "When are you going back to school and leave me in peace?"

Stefan's muscular arms strained with the effort of propelling his weight. "Soon," he grunted between breaths.

Rolling his eyes, Damon drifted closer until he towered over Stefan's prone form. He extended the glass towards him with an exaggerated flourish. "Just have a drink already, would you? This self-detox act is not natural."

Stefan's eyes flitted towards the proffered tumbler, pupils dilating almost imperceptibly as the rich, cloying scent of blood teased his senses. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Get it out of my face, please," he bit out, quickly redirecting his focus.

Leaning nonchalantly against the wall, Damon scrutinized his brother's strained movements. "How long did it take you to wean yourself off it the last time you indulged?" Each word dripped with casual indifference, masking his intent study.

"I'll be fine; it just takes a little bit of time," Stefan assured, defiance hardening his voice as he refused to falter in his routine.

Damon sighed, his eyes narrowing as he studied Stefan's unwavering form, muscles straining with each push-up. "I don't get it, brother. You don't have to embrace the ripper within to survive. That's what blood banks are for." A wistful look flickered across his features. "I haven't indulged in the hunt in...God, far too long."

Stefan's gaze remained locked on the hardwood floor, his focus indomitable as he powered through the set. "Oh, I'm impressed," he countered, sarcasm lacing his clipped tone.

A sardonic smirk played across Damon's lips as he swirled the deep crimson liquid in his glass. "Purely selfish motives, I assure you. Can't have Blondie unleashing her wrath upon me." His expression morphed into one of amused frustration. "I'm trying to divert this town's attention from our supernatural brethren, which is no easy feat with an entire tomb of vampires roaming about."

His brother paused mid-push-up, finally meeting Damon's penetrating stare. "What are we planning on doing about that?" Concern etched his chiseled features.

Damon propped himself against the wall, arms crossed. "We're not going to do much of anything if you don't have your strength." He extended the glass, the rich scent of blood wafting enticingly. "There's nothing wrong with indulging in a healthy vampire diet courtesy of the blood bank's supply. You're not actually killing anyone."

Pushing himself up from the floor, Stefan swiped at the sheen of sweat on his brow. "I have my reasons," he asserted, his resolve as indomitable as granite.

Damon's eyes glinted with mischief as he attempted to chip away at Stefan's resolve. "Well, do enlighten me on these holier-than-thou reasons of yours. We've never actually discussed the juicy details." He leaned back, feigning an exaggerated curiosity. "I'd love to hear this fascinating tale."

With an effortless, nonchalant grace, Damon sank into the worn leather of Stefan's couch, a sardonic smirk playing across his lips. "You're really savoring this moment, aren't you? Delighting in my struggle?" Stefan accused, pausing his workout to lock eyes with his brother, challenge simmering beneath the surface.

"Very much so," he admitted unabashedly, reveling in the unfolding drama like an indulgent spectator.

Swiping at the sheen of sweat on his brow, Stefan's tone carried an undercurrent of defiant frustration. "I hate to break it to you, brother, but I actually have this under complete control."

Undeterred, Damon stood and sauntered towards the door with a practiced nonchalance. "Is that so? Well then, by all means, carry on making the rest of us vampires look reprehensible." The teasing lilt in his voice hung heavily as he left the crystal tumbler filled with crimson temptation on the table.

"Have a splendid day, Stefan," he quipped, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

Stefan's gaze lingered on the abandoned glass, the rich scent of blood beckoning like a siren's call. The silence that blanketed the room seemed to underscore the friction between the glass and Stefan.

The door flew open again, Damon reappearing with a sly grin. "Ah, I nearly forgot something. How careless of me." He snatched up the glass, crimson liquid sloshing precariously. Bringing it to his lips, he savored the forbidden taste with an exaggerated display of pure indulgence. His piercing gaze held Stefan's for a beat before he spun on his heel and swept out, the door left ajar in his wake.

♤♤♤♤♤

Caroline's bedroom was a whirlwind of activity as she flitted about, meticulously laying out potential outfits and accessories for the evening's Founders' Day 150 Year party. Her phone was cradled between her ear and shoulder as Bonnie's familiar voice filtered through the line.

"This party is going to be utterly boring without you," Caroline lamented, holding up two dresses in front of the mirror for comparison.

A week had passed since Stefan's kidnapping and the gruesome discovery of Vicki's lifeless body. Amidst the wreckage, the only silver lining was Bonnie answering Caroline's call. The memory of that night lingered, and Caroline admitted in a hushed tone, "I'm really going to miss having you here, Bonnie."

"Well, you were the mastermind behind the whole thing," Bonnie pointed out with a small laugh. "If it's lackluster, you'll only have the tragically uncultured residents of Mystic Falls to blame."

Caroline rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Fair point. I suppose I shouldn't be held responsible for their lack of sophistication." She tossed one of the dresses aside decisively. "Are you still not speaking to Elena?"

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line before Bonnie responded. "You know how it is, Care. It's just...easier to talk to you right now. Even with your twisted entanglement with Damon, you at least never bring him up."

Sinking down on the edge of her bed, Caroline's expression softened with understanding. "Elena's worried about you. She misses you."

"I know," Bonnie's voice was tinged with a melancholy resignation. "I just...I can't deal with her right now. Not with everything revolving around Stefan and the supernatural drama."

Nodding slowly, Caroline bit her lip. "Okay, I get it. Just...when are you coming back home? I need my partner in crime."

A soft chuckle filtered through the line. "Don't worry, I'll be back in Mystic Falls tomorrow. You can count on seeing my face at school."

Despite the lingering unease surrounding recent tragic events, Caroline managed a small smile, reassured by the familiarity of Bonnie's voice and the promise of her friend's impending return.

♤♤♤♤♤

The grandiose ballroom buzzed with the refined revelry of Mystic Falls' founding families gathering for the Party. Stefan and Damon made their entrance, the Salvatore brothers cutting dashing figures in their immaculately tailored suits.

"Oh god, I really shouldn't be here," Stefan murmured, anxiety woven into the taut lines of his expression as he surveyed the well-heeled crowd.

Damon regarded his brother with a roguish grin, clapping him on the shoulder. "Come now, don't be such a downer. It's a celebration for the founding families - ergo, us. Skipping out would be dreadfully rude."

A derisive scoff escaped Stefan's lips. "I really did prefer you when you simply hated everyone."

"Oh, I still do, rest assured," Damon countered breezily. "I've just learned to relish in their adoration of me." A dark chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest as his piercing gaze raked over Stefan appraisingly. "How are you faring, brother?"

"I'm good. I'm fine," Stefan insisted, the words clipped and resolute despite the tinge of desperation that clung to them.

One immaculately sculpted brow inched upwards in patent disbelief. "No cravings? No urges simmering just beneath that carefully composed surface?" Damon's expression morphed into one of sardonic amusement. "Is that whiskey you've been knocking back all day actually subduing the beast within?"

Stefan's laugh was hollow, devoid of true mirth. "We are who we are, Stefan. Nothing will ever change that fundamental truth."

Challenge flashed in the younger Salvatore's eyes. "Ah, so nothing would make you happier than to simply see me surrender, is that it, Damon?"

A tight smile played across Damon's lips. "It's inevitable, dear brother."

"Well, I'm going to go find Elena." Stefan spun on his heel and strode away.

His brother just couldn't help tossing a parting quip. "Try not to embarrass me too thoroughly, young man."

As he wove through the throngs of party-goers, Stefan deftly snagged a glass of whiskey from a passing tray. With an easy, practiced flourish, he plucked out the straw, downed the contents in one smooth motion, and set the empty glass aside without breaking stride.

♤♤♤♤♤

The older Salvatore's piercing gaze roamed over the glittering crowd until it settled on a vision of effortless elegance - Caroline, radiant in a stunning dress, deftly directing the wait staff with an air of practiced poise. A slow smile stretched across his lips as he began weaving through the throngs of Mystic Falls' elite towards her.

"Well, well, well," he purred as he sidled up alongside her, "if it isn't the belle of the ball herself. Tell me, what's a gorgeous girl like you doing in such a stuffy place as this?"

Caroline rolled her eyes, but there was no malice behind the gesture - only a sort of exasperated affection. "Oh, you know, just making sure this party doesn't completely derail into a disaster zone." She eyed him skeptically. "You're not planning on causing any trouble tonight, are you, Damon?"

"Me?" He affected an expression of wounded innocence, one hand fluttering over his heart. "Why, I'm crushed you would even entertain such thoughts, Caroline. Trouble is the farthest thing from my mind this evening."

"Sure it is." The lilting sarcasm in her tone made it clear she didn't believe that for a second. "Save the charming act for someone who doesn't know you half as well as me."

"You wound me, gorgeous." Damon's smirk suggested he wasn't wounded in the slightest. "I'm simply here to enjoy the festivities with my perpetually brooding little brother. Speaking of..." His gaze raked over her slow and deliberate. "Any chance I could convince you to take a break and share a dance with me?"

A delicate flush tinged Caroline's cheeks, but she rallied quickly with a teasing smile. "Sorry, Romeo, but unlike you, I actually have a job to do here. Keeping this party from going off the rails." She pretended to consider for a moment. "Maybe later though?"

Damon's grin widened as he took a deliberate step closer, invading her personal space. "I'll be holding you to that, sweetheart."

♤♤♤♤♤

The Kick-off bash was in full swing, the grandiose ballroom alive with the effervescent energy of Mystic Falls' elite mingling over champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Caroline, resplendent in an elegant gown, glided through the crowd with effortless poise, her discerning gaze sweeping over every detail to ensure the event ran flawlessly.

However, her attention was drawn to the bar where Stefan stood, shoulders tense and eyes distant as he nursed a glass of amber liquid. A tiny crease furrowed Caroline's brow as she studied him surreptitiously. "Is Stefan okay? He seems...really drunk." Her murmured to herself, words tinged with concern. "Can vampires even get drunk?"

She watched, transfixed, as Elena approached and Stefan's demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly. A small, strained smile played across his lips as he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. But there was something profoundly off about the entire interaction that set Caroline's nerves on edge.

As Stefan melted back into the crowd, Kelly Donovan arrived, catching the tail end of a conversation about the "god-awful" music selection. Caroline couldn't help but silently agree - that was one aspect she had regrettably relinquished control over.

Her reverie was broken as Stefan, with a subtle flex of mind-control, compelled the DJ to switch to a decidedly more upbeat, lively playlist. The atmosphere seemed to pivot on its axis, the energy in the room becoming downright electric as Kelly's relief was palpable.

"Thank God!" She crowed, a bright peal of laughter escaping her lips as she allowed herself to be swept into an impromptu twirl with Stefan.

Damon materialized at Caroline's side, his piercing gaze tracking his brother's uncharacteristic antics. "Have I slipped into some bizarro alternate universe where Stefan is actually...fun?" He quipped, a roguish smirk playing about his lips.

Concern for her friend won out over amusement as Caroline stole a sidelong glance at Damon. "Is he going to be okay?" The worry was obvious in her soft tones.

Damon's expression shifted almost imperceptibly as he watched his brother get caught up in the electric pulse of the party. "Eventually," he replied cryptically after a beat. "One way or another."

Their eyes met in silent understanding before returning to the spectacle of Stefan, momentarily untethered from the weight of his demons. Damon's smile was indecipherable, layered with meaning Caroline couldn't begin to unravel as the music swirled around them.

The pulsing rhythm of the music surrounded them in its hypnotic embrace until Damon abruptly extended his hand in an unmistakable invitation. "How about that dance, Barbie?"

The blonde's breath hitched ever so slightly at the unexpected offer. After holding his stare for a heated moment, she found herself nodding in acquiescence despite her earlier protestations. "You know what? Sure, why not?"

As Damon's strong hand found the curve of her waist, pulling her into his orbit, Caroline couldn't deny the thrill of anticipation that suffused her being. The energy between them was electric, charged with an undercurrent of heightened tension. His hand found the slender curve of her waist as his other captured her hand, their fingers intertwining in a way that felt somehow profoundly intimate despite the crowd swirling around them.

For a suspended moment, the world seemed to still, narrowing down to just the two of them locked in this heated tango of wills and wants. Caroline's breath caught in her throat as Damon's hypnotic gaze held her captive, his unique woodsy cologne enveloping her senses. She was abruptly, viscerally aware of every point where their bodies brushed together through the diaphanous fabric of her gown.

Then, without preamble, the first sultry strains of the next song began to bleed through the speakers. Like a switch being flipped, the spell was broken as Damon took the lead, guiding Caroline into an intricate series of steps in time with the rhythm. She followed his motions fluidly, surprise giving way to instinct as months - years - of formal dance training took over.

They moved in perfect synchronicity, two celestial bodies caught in one another's orbit, pushed and pulled by the gravity between them. Here, on this dance floor, Caroline forgot her myriad responsibilities and the weight of the expectations constantly bearing down on her. Here, it was just her and this beautiful, infuriatingly complicated man who had somehow slipped past all her carefully constructed walls.

As the beat enveloped them, Damon pulled her flush against him, his unique forest scent overwhelming her senses once again. His lips brushed the delicate shell of her ear as he murmured, "I didn't accept that you would agree so easily, Barbie. I thought that I would have to work for it."

A delicious shiver traced its way down Caroline's spine at his heated words and the devotional press of his body against hers. "Don't get used to it," she countered, though her breathless tone belied the flirtatious rebuff.

He merely chuckled, the rich timbre seeming to reverberate through her very core as they swayed together. "We'll see about that."

In that endless moment, suspended between heartbeats and wrapped in Damon's intoxicating embrace, Caroline could admit to herself that she was utterly, irreversibly lost to this mysterious, captivating man. And perhaps, just perhaps, she didn't truly want to be found.

♤♤♤♤♤

After the dance ended Caroline excused herself from Damon's hold, stating that he had work to do. So he began weaving through the glittering crowd, his gaze roving until it landed on Sheriff Forbes. A slow smile curved his lips as he approached her. "You know, as much as I love a woman in uniform, I have to admit - this evening look suits you exquisitely, Liz. You look absolutely smashing."

A melodious laugh escaped the sheriff's painted lips. "Well, you can thank my daughter for that. Caroline had every detail chosen for me. I couldn't possibly go against her wishes." She arched an immaculately groomed brow. "I don't think the uniform would have passed her discerning eye."

"In that case, I can certainly see where Caroline gets her impeccable taste and good looks from," Damon rejoined smoothly, his gaze dancing over the sheriff in a once-over.

Sheriff Forbes chuckled again, not immune to his roguish charm. "Why thank you, Damon." She lifted her glass in a playful salute. "I needed that. Cheers!"

As their glasses clinked together, she leveled him with a sobering look over the rim of her drink. "I have to admit, I had my doubts about you at first. But like everyone else on the council, you've won me over. I'm also very grateful you keep my daughter out of harm's way."

Damon's expression shifted briefly, reminiscent of a fleeting shadow across the sun, before his trademark smirk reasserted itself. He muttered under his breath, too low for human ears, "More like she keeps me out of trouble."

Meeting the sheriff's gaze once more, he raised his glass. "Thanks, Liz. It's been really nice how welcoming the council has been. I'm starting to feel at home here in Mystic Falls again."

Sheriff Forbes' features softened momentarily before her expression turned grave. "Well, I'm afraid you're not going to like what I have to tell you." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Jonathan Gilbert's claims have checked out. The blood bank thefts, the missing persons - all of it's true. We might just have a very serious problem on our hands."

Their tense exchange was interrupted by Jeremy Gilbert's approach. "Excuse me, Sheriff." His voice was tinged with a fragile hope. "I was wondering if there's been any more information about what happened to Vicki Donovan?"

Sheriff Forbes' features softened with compassion. "It was an overdose, Jeremy."

But the young man wasn't dissuaded so easily. "Yeah, but her body was buried. Somebody must have done that."

"We're aware of that," Sheriff Forbes replied evenly. "The investigation is ongoing, but there's nothing more I can tell you at this time. I'm sorry."

Jeremy's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, defeat etching his features. "It's okay," he muttered before turning to shuffle away, the weight of his grief like a cloak around his shoulders.

"Poor kid," Damon murmured once Jeremy was out of earshot.

Sheriff Forbes shook her head grimly. "I still can't believe that one of my own trusted deputies would up and steal Vicki's body, only to bury her out in the woods like that."

Damon affected a casual shrug, but his eyes flickered with the barest hint of smugness. "Yeah, so weird."

"Well, that's my cue." The sheriff excused herself with a tight smile, as she noticed Carol waving for her.

Once she had melted back into the crowd, Damon muttered under his breath, "Actually, not so weird. I am the one who compelled the deputy to do it after all." His gaze sliced towards Jeremy's retreating back. "Can't have the council dissecting the body and finding all our vampire secrets now, can we?"

♤♤♤♤♤

Seeking a respite from the lively chaos of the party below, Caroline retreated onto the balcony, sipping slowly on a crisp apple fizz cocktail. The cool caress of the evening breeze danced over her flushed skin as peals of distant laughter and music provided a muted backdrop to her contemplative thoughts.

"What's the town's favorite blonde doing out here all alone?"

The rich, provocative timbre of Damon's voice shattered the tranquility like a stone rupturing a crystalline pool. Caroline stiffened imperceptibly, every nerve ending alive with sudden awareness as he materialized beside her, his mere presence seeming to catalyze a ripple in the atmosphere.

Schooling her features into an expression of nonchalant ease, she shot him a coy smirk over the rim of her glass. "Just enjoying the view, Salvatore. It is a party after all."

Damon braced his forearms against the ornately carved balustrade, gaze sweeping over the revelry unfolding below them. "You know, I find parties tend to be somewhat overrated." He angled himself incrementally closer, the potent wood-smoke-and-bourbon scent of him invading her senses. "Sometimes it's the quiet interludes that render a night truly...memorable."

A delicate shiver traced her spine at the undercurrent of suggestion lying just beneath his velvet tones. Refusing to be cowed, Caroline arched a finely sculpted brow. "Are you trying to be profound? Or is this just your latest ploy to bewitch the ladies into succumbing to your charms?"

The corners of Damon's lips twitched with the ghost of a smile as he turned to face her fully. "Why can't it be a bit of both? You know how I adore cultivating an aura of delicious mystery." His eyes danced over her bare curves with unveiled appreciation.

Caroline felt her pulse kick up a staggering notch, the fine hair along her nape prickling as if charged with static electricity. She forced a teasing lilt into her responding quip. "So what is this magnetic aura you're so fond of brandishing, Damon? Do tell."

With a deliberate, slow-burn intensity, he leaned in until his lips were a scant breath from brushing the delicate whorls of her ear. When he spoke, his words emerged in a molten, velvety rasp that stole what little breath remained in Caroline's lungs.

"I could tell you...but then I fear I'd have to compel you to forget." There was a dangerous undercurrent beneath his tone.

She swallowed hard against the sudden tightness gripping her throat and managed a breathless laugh. "Compel me? I don't think so. Getting shut down once was more than enough of an ego-bruising for you, wasn't it?"

The intensity in Damon's steel-blue gaze ratcheted up another searing degree. "You never did tell me how you managed to escape my compulsion that night."

Every molecule within Caroline seemed to hum and thrum with awareness as she met his stare unflinchingly. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She heard the husky purr coloring her own voice and didn't care. "Some secrets are simply...meant to be kept."

Damon's sensual smirk deepened to sinful depths. "I thought we trusted each other, gorgeous."

Colored lights from the ballroom flickered over them, their shadows melding and distorting in a mesmerizing facsimile of the intoxicating dance they were locked in. Caroline's laughter mingled with the perfumed night air in a crystalline peal. "Oh, I do trust you, Damon." Her lips curved impishly. "I just love watching you try to unravel me and my secrets."

His answering look was one of pure, molten sin as he closed what little space remained between their bodies. "Is that so?" Damon's voice plunged to a rugged rasp that sparked liquid heat low in Caroline's belly. "In that case, allow me to endeavor to render you...deliciously, undone."

The heated tension between Caroline and Damon crackled through the air like a livewire as they remained locked in each other's smoldering gazes. But the spell was abruptly shattered by an unexpected intruder.

"Caroline, it's so wonderful to see you." John Gilbert's voice sliced through the charged atmosphere like a blunt blade. "Look at you, all grown up into a stunning young woman."

The blonde startled, instinctively putting a sliver of distance between herself and Damon as she spun to face Elena's uncle. She willed her features into an expression of polite surprise despite already being well-versed in the morning's events courtesy of Damon's briefing.

"Uncle John! It's been quite a while." She affected a warm if slightly strained, smile. "What brings you into town?"

A calculating look flickered across John's austere features before he replied, "Let's just say there are certain...matters that require my attention."

"Well, it was lovely seeing you," she rejoined, eager to extricate herself from the conversation and the unstable variable Elena's uncle represented. "But I really must be getting back - can't have the caterers fouling up the night, now can we?" She risked a furtive glance at Damon, who regarded her with an inscrutable look that clearly communicated his displeasure at her departure and forced proximity to John. Ignoring the silent plea in his arresting eyes, Caroline spun on her heel and beat a hasty retreat.

John turned his assessing gaze upon Damon, seeming to study him like one might a specimen under a microscope. "Damon Salvatore, I presume?"

The vampire inclined his head ever so slightly in a subtle acknowledgment of having the upper hand wrested from him. "John."

"We didn't get the chance to meet at the council gathering the other night." A hint of something dark, something shrewd lingered beneath the surface pleasantries.

One side of Damon's mouth quirked upward in a semblance of an ambivalent smile. "Yes, it's been a genuine pleasure getting to know the esteemed Founders' Council during my time in Mystic Falls."

"Indeed." John mirrored the jaded amusement poorly concealed in Damon's mien. "I'd forgotten just how entertaining these quaint small-town celebrations can be."

"Of course." The subtle challenge wasn't lost on Damon, nor was the underlying keenness in John's assessing stare. He refused to be cowed, however. "When was the last time you indulged in such...provincial festivities?"

"Not since my brother's funeral, I'm afraid." The words twisted like a barb between them, a thinly veiled insinuation of unfinished business and unresolved strains. "And yourself? You've been in residence here for...?"

Damon allowed a perfunctory pause to stretch into the void between them, letting the unspoken implications and faint sense of menace gather weight before replying in a tone of disquieting nonchalance, "Oh, not terribly long at all."

John studied him with an intensity that bordered on confrontational. "So tell me, Damon, you're aware this vampire situation in Mystic Falls is quite real, are you not? A potential bloodbath waiting in the wings."

Damon met the other man's stare with a look of studied indifference. "I wouldn't go overreacting just yet, John. No need to damn the entire river over a few stray drops."

"Oh, I think this has all the makings of 1864 repeating itself," John countered, his tone taking on an ominous timbre. "Vampires running rampant, a scourge we'll be forced to hunt down and burn to ash, just like we did by trapping them in the church."

A muscle ticked in Damon's chiseled jaw, but his expression remained impassive. "Is that the story you're peddling?"

"It's part of the story," John allowed with a serpentine smile. "But there's so much more, you see. For instance, the tomb - the underground holding where those vampires festered, waiting for some poor, deluded soul to release them upon the world again." His gaze bored into Damon with an accusatory weight. "But then, you knew all about that already, didn't you? Considering you were the one who set them free."

Damon didn't so much as flinch, his stillness that of a coiled serpent studying its prey. When he spoke, his voice was a calculated rasp. "And you're telling me this...why, exactly?"

"I simply thought we should get the introductions out of the way." A sly smile curved John's lips. "You know, before things become...unpleasant."

In a movement too fast to follow, Damon suddenly crowded into John's personal space, their faces a hairsbreadth apart as he growled, "You know I could rip your throat out before anyone here even noticed, don't you?"

To his credit, John didn't so much as blink. "Yeah."

An ominous quiet stretched between them until Damon's lips peeled back in a mocking smile. "But then, I'd wager you ingest vervain, making such an attack...problematic."

John arched an eyebrow in silent challenge. "Why don't you take a bite and find out?"

They studied each other, predator and prey, in a loaded tableau that hung suspended by a slender thread of tenuous control. Then, finally, Damon uttered a soft chuckle and began backing away. "It's simply not worth my time."

But the instant John turned away, presenting his back in a show of vulnerability, Damon struck with blinding speed. His hand lashed out, gripping the other man by the throat and wrenching it savagely to the side with a sickening crack. As John's lifeless body crumpled to the balcony floor, Damon didn't hesitate - he snatched it up effortlessly and launched it over the railing in a graceful underhand arc.

As the body dropped, Damon's expression remained one of cold indifference, devoid of remorse. When he finally spoke, his words were velvet-wrapped steel.

"I think that's quite enough introductions for one evening, don't you?"

♤♤♤♤♤

Elena joined Caroline where she had retreated to the fringes of the ballroom. "Hey, I feel like I've barely seen you all evening. Where have you been?"

The blonde offered her friend a slightly strained smile, her mind still preoccupied with the simmering tensions of her earlier encounter. "Just...got a bit preoccupied with hostess putting her duties on to me, you know how it is."

Before Elena could respond, Matt approached, his expression cautiously upbeat despite the lingering shadows in his eyes from recent tragic events. "Hey guys."

"Hey Matt," Caroline managed, tamping down the pang of residual guilt that still lanced through her whenever she saw her friend and was reminded of her role, however unintentional, in his sister's death. Facing him after her mother delivered the devastating news ranked among the most difficult experiences of her life.

"You two haven't seen my mom around, have you?" Matt asked, oblivious to Caroline's inner turmoil.

Elena shook her head. "No, not for a little while now."

"I saw her ducking out the back door earlier though," Caroline supplied.

Without another word, the trio made their way towards the exit, emerging into the halogen-lit back parking lot. It didn't take long to register the heated scene unfolding before them.

"Oh my god, gross!" Caroline blurted before she could sensor herself.

Matt's widowed mother Kelly was in an undeniably compromising situation - locked in a heated liplock with none other than Tyler Lockwood. At Caroline's outburst, Matt snapped into motion, a righteous fury burning in his eyes as he stalked over and grabbed Tyler by the shoulder, wrenching him away.

"Mom!" His anguished bellow sliced through the night like a dagger.

Kelly's eyes went wide with shock and mortification. "Matt?!"

"What the hell are you doing, man?" Matt growled.

Tyler instantly went on the defensive. "Whoa, dude, calm down!"

But Matt was too far gone, hurt and anger rendering him blind to reason as his fist connected with Tyler's jaw in an explosive retort. Within seconds, the two descended into an all-out brawl, grunts and thuds punctuating the night as they grappled viciously. In the chaos, Kelly was inadvertently shoved to the ground with a pained cry.

"Hey, guys, that's enough!" Caroline shouted over the discord, panic lacing her voice as she watched her friends tear into each other with disturbing ferocity.

Elena rushed forward, desperation etching her delicate features. "Matt, stop it! Tyler, please stop, you're hurting him! Somebody help us!"

That's when Alaric Saltzman, burst onto the scene and waded into the fray, hauling Tyler off Matt with an impressive display of brute strength before slamming the younger man against the nearest wall. "What the hell is going on here?"

♤♤♤♤♤

The Lockwood mansion buzzed with refined frivolity as Mystic Falls' elite celebrated. Stefan Salvatore stood apart, tumbler in hand, unable to share in the revelry. His vampire nature warred constantly with his desperate desire to cling to his humanity. The rich bouquet of blood permeated the air, torturing his senses.

"You want to hear the bad news or the really bad news?"

Stefan turned at the sound of his brother's voice, Damon slouching against the wall with a wolfish grin. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly against the onslaught of tantalizing aromas.

"I don't want any news, Damon," he gritted out.

Damon's grin widened as he pretended to consider. "Alright, let me rephrase. Do you want to hear how the Founders' Council is back to hunting vampires? Or how I just killed Uncle John Gilbert?"

Stefan's eyes flew open, aghast. "What?"

But Damon had already pivoted, distracted by Caroline Forbes' disheveled entrance. "Great party, huh?" he smirked, brushing past him without a backwards glance.

Fury simmering, Stefan moved to pursue his cavalier brother, but stopped short at the sight of Kelly Donovan crumpled on the floor, sobbing brokenly. A gash above her eye oozed thick rivulets of blood down her ashen face.

He swallowed hard against the monstrous hunger unfurling within him. "Is everything alright?"

"No!" she wailed. "I ruined it, like I ruin everything! What's wrong with me?"

Drawn inexorably by the scent of her life's essence, Stefan slowly dropped to one knee before her. His obsidian gaze bored into the seeping wound as his fingertips grazed the sticky crimson trails.

Kelly jerked back, alarm replacing anguish. "What are you doing?"

Stefan blinked, the blood's siren call still ringing in his ears. "I'm sorry," he muttered hoarsely, stumbling back to his feet.

He burst through the terrace doors, gulping in ragged breaths of the cool night air. But the damage was done. Raising a shaking hand, he swiped his tongue along the smear of red, powerless against the demon raging within.

♤♤♤♤♤

The antique camera flashed, immortalizing Caroline and Damon in a freeze-frame of studied elegance. Caroline's pearl white dress sculpted her curves to perfection, while Damon looked dangerously handsome in his classic tuxedo. But it was the charged eye contact and the intimate way his fingers traced patterns on the bare skin of her back that truly captured the electric chemistry between them.

Just as the photographer lowered his camera with a satisfied nod, Damon went rigid beside Caroline. She followed his suddenly thunderous glare to the grand entrance, where John Gilbert had appeared, surveying the glittering crowd with a look of undisguised scorn.

"You've got to be kidding me," Damon growled, the words a ragged rumble in his chest.

Before Caroline could demand an explanation for his reaction, Mayor Lockwood's booming voice commanded the ballroom's attention.

"Thank you all for joining us to kick off this very special 150th anniversary celebration for our beloved Mystic Falls," he called out over the microphone to a smattering of polite applause.

Sweeping her gaze across the opulent venue, Caroline's eyes snagged on the telltale glint of metal on John Gilbert's right hand. She felt the blood drain from her face as recognition set in. No...please, not that. Her desperate gaze found Damon's, but he was already stalking forward, powerful shoulders tensed for confrontation.

"I'd like to welcome back our own John Gilbert to ring the official charter bell and do the honors," Mayor Lockwood continued, oblivious to the borderline murderous vibes crackling.

With an audible crack, John's sickening smile sliced through the crowd as he accepted the brass bell. His cold eyes locked on Damon's in an unmistakable challenge.

"One hundred and fifty years of community, prosperity...family," he intoned in that insultingly superior tone that never failed to make Caroline's blood boil. "We take care of each other, we look after each other...protect each other."

The vaguely threatening double meaning hung heavy in the air. She shivered, her bare arms prickling with goosebumps despite the ballroom's temperature. She placed a steadying hand over Damon's tightly clenched fist as the sinister reality hit her - John knew about Salvatores.

A smattering of polite applause filled the opulent ballroom as John Gilbert flashed an infuriatingly smug smile and rang the brass charter bell with a theatrical flourish. Caroline felt Damon tense beside her, his fingers unconsciously tightening around her own like a lifeline, in a grip that bordered on painful. Without a word, he pivoted on his heel and began parting the crowd, hauling Caroline along in his wake as he closed in on Alaric Saltzman.

"Look at his right hand," Damon bit out through clenched teeth, not even sparing Alaric a glance as his molten glare remained trained on John's retreating back.

"Whose?" Alaric asked in clear bewilderment, following Damon's line of sight.

"The town's favorite son," Damon snarled, the words dripping with derision.

"Look at his ring, Mr. Saltzman," Caroline insisted, feeling a sliver of dread pierce her perfectly constructed mask of nonchalance.

The teacher watched in silence as John made a hubristic show of clasping Mayor Lockwood's hand, the heavy ring on his right finger glinting under the crystal chandeliers.

Alaric's brow furrowed as identical realization seemed to dawn on him. "Well, it does look exactly like mine."

"Yeah, and that would be one hell of a coincidence if he didn't just come back from the dead five minutes ago," Damon stated flatly, his piercing blue eyes never leaving John Gilbert.

Caroline's blood turned to ice in her veins as the implication hit her like a freight train. "What do you mean he came back from the dead?" she asked, the words catching in her suddenly constricted throat. "Damon...what did you do?"

"What else could I have done, Blondie?" he countered without looking at her, his voice a barely controlled rasp. "He was airing out threats against all of us."

Finally tearing his smoldering gaze from John's ring, Damon rounded on Alaric. "Where the hell did you get that ring?"

"Isobel," Alaric replied tightly. "My wife."

"Your vampire wife who just so happened to give birth to Elena under the medical care of her own brother, the esteemed Dr. Grayson Gilbert," Damon finished, his tone laced with accusation.

All three pairs of eyes swiveled back towards John Gilbert, who was soaking up adulation from the town people with sickening ease.

"Do you think John knew Isobel?" Alaric asked in a low, worried tone.

Damon's mordant chuckle was devoid of any mirth. "I think John knows a hell of a lot more than any of us ever did."

♤♤♤♤♤

The crisp night air cleared Stefan's head as he exited the Lockwood's parking lot, the sounds of raucous laughter and clinking glasses fading behind him. He put his blazer back on against the chill, eager to put some distance between himself and the tempting thrum of human heartbeats.

A solid mass suddenly slammed into his side, nearly staggering Stefan with the unexpected impact. He steadied himself to find the drunk guy he'd compelled to leave Elena alone just hours earlier, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

"S'rry 'bout that, man," the guy slurred, bleary eyes struggling to focus. "R'lly am terr'bly s'rry."

Stefan tensed, nostrils flaring as the man's hot, whiskey-laced breath washed over him. He willed his predator's instincts into submission. "You don't want to do this."

The words had barely left his lips when the drunk's meaty palm shoved against his chest with surprising force, the bitter scent of stale beer saturating Stefan's senses.

"S'rry 'bout that too," he drawled with an insolent smirk. "All I c'n do is 'pologize. What's that about earlier?"

Stefan could feel his mask of rigid control start to slip as primal urges stirred within him, screaming to be sated. "Get out of my way. Please."

The drunken frat boy seemed to sober slightly as he sneered at Stefan, taking an ominous step forward. "No girl t' show off for now? I see how this is..."

His beefy arm cocked back but before the punch could be thrown, Stefan's iron grip clamped around his fist, slowly crushing bone and tendon. The drunk had a split second to register the inhuman force holding him before Stefan effortlessly flung him to the ground.

Finally allowing his game face to emerge, he stared dispassionately down at the whimpering human as his vampiric features contorted into their terrifying visage.

"What are you, man?" the drunk blubbered, eyes bugging in sheer terror.

♤♤♤♤♤

Stefan hovered over the unconscious frat boy, lips peeled back in a feral snarl as he drank in the scent of terror that clung to the human's sweat-damp skin. His entire body thrummed with the intoxicating rush of power, instincts sharpened to a razors edge as vicious urges warred with his fragile self-control.

One flaring nostril twitched almost imperceptibly as a painfully familiar floral scent drifted on the breeze - Elena. Stefan was out of sight in a supernatural blur just as her melodic voice pierced the night, yet not forgeting to compell the drunk.

"Stefan? Stefan?"

Rounding the corner at a human pace, Elena faltered as she took in the crumpled form sprawled in the parking lot shadows. "Hey! Are you okay? What happened?"

With an agonized groan, the drunk hauled himself upright, cradling one arm against his chest in a makeshift sling. "My arm," he grunted through a haze of alcohol and lingering fear. "I just...lost my balance and fell. I'm so clumsy."

As Elena fretted over the inebriated frat boy, neither noticed the 1963 Porsche 356B Karmann Coupe peeling out of the parking lot.

Back inside, Mayor Lockwood strode into the study to find his son nursing a crystal tumbler of amber liquid, shoulders slumped in uncharacteristic dejection.

"Let's go," he barked without preamble, leveling Tyler with an expectant glare.

Alarm flickered across Tyler's chiseled features as he struggled to compose himself. "Dad...I'm sorry. I don't even know what happened. I was drinking and I just...lost control. I can't explain it."

The meaty crack of the mayor's palm connecting with Tyler's cheek reverberated through the den like a gunshot. "That is the last time you ever embarrass this family," Lockwood snarled, towering over his cowering son with unbridled disgust.

♤♤♤♤♤

John Gilbert strode purposefully towards the exits of the mansion, riding the high of having pulled off his dramatic performance flawlessly. As he descended the front steps into the cool night air, a familiar voice sliced through the parking lot's shadows.

"Going somewhere?"

Damon melted into view, Alaric a hulking presence at his side, as they blocked John's path to his car. John fought back a smirk - he'd been expecting this.

"I've never liked being the last one to leave a party," he replied smoothly. "It reeks of desperation, don't you think? So what'll it be - you kill me again yourself, or let your hired hand Mr. Saltzman here do your dirty work?"

Alaric bristled at the insinuation but held his tongue as Damon cocked an incredulous brow.

"You obviously know who I am," Alaric stated tightly.

"That I do - Alaric Saltzman, a high school history teacher with some...secrets," John purred, relishing the way the other man's jaw ticked with barely repressed rage.

"You sure know an awful lot for someone who just got back into town," Damon observed in a deceptively mild tone that did nothing to mask the underlying threat.

John allowed his smuggest smile to stretch across his lips as he closed the distance between them, lowering his voice to an almost conspiratorial murmur.

"More than you can possibly imagine, Damon. My knowledge of this town's secrets goes far beyond anything the esteemed Founder's Council is aware of." His eyes bored into Damon's with piercing intensity. "So if you're thinking of trying some clever high-speed, snatch-the-ring, kill-the-hunter move...know that if I die, everything I know goes straight to the council."

John paused for maximum impact, watching realization flicker across Damon's features.

"Including the fascinating tale of the original Salvatore vampires and their modern-day return to Mystic Falls."

For once, Damon seemed utterly blindsided into silence. Seizing his opportunity, Alaric took an aggressive step forward.

"How did you get one of those rings? Where did it come from?"

"I inherited one, same as my brother Gray," John replied easily. "This was his." He flashed the chunky silver band as if to emphasize its importance. "Although I never would have given up mine if I knew Isobel planned to pawn it off to another guy."

"So you did know her," he stated flatly.

"Who do you think sent her your way when she wanted to become a vampire?" John taunted with relish, watching Damon struggle to maintain his unflappable facade.

Damon's brow furrowed as the implication struck home like a physical blow. "You sent her?"

"Guilty," John sang out with a wicked grin. "Did you think someone else brought her into the fold? Maybe Katherine Pierce?"

The world seemed to grind to a halt as Damon absorbed that unexpected name, his icy facade finally shattering. "How do you know about Katherine?"

Seizing his chance, John leaned in with undisguised menace. "How do I know anything, Damon?"

When no response was forthcoming, John chuckled darkly and turned on his heel, sauntering back towards his car without a care in the world.

"What do you want?" Damon growled at his retreating back, sounding utterly rattled for the first time.

Tossing a jaunty wave over one shoulder, John called back without breaking his stride. "So many questions. It was a pleasure meeting you, Rick - I've certainly heard a lot about you."

As the sleek sports car roared to life and peeled out of the parking lot, Damon and Alaric could only gape at each other in bewildered silence. Spinning on his heel, Damon swept the area until his piercing gaze found Caroline's stunned expression peeking around a shadowed column.

They had a very big problem on their hands.

♤♤♤♤♤

The crackling fire cast a warm, dancing glow over the parlor as Damon lounged on the plush leather sofa, one arm casually draped behind Caroline. She nestled into his side, unconsciously relishing their closeness as the rich, earthy scent of his cologne enveloped her senses.

Damon's free hand cradled a crystalline glass filled with a thick, crimson liquid that Caroline tried not to dwell on too much. She knew acknowledging its true nature would only reopen painful questions she'd decided were better left unanswered - for now at least.

Her brow furrowed as she registered the telling flicker of movement at the edge of her peripheral vision. "There's Stefan," she murmured, nodding towards the study's entrance.

Damon followed her gaze, his expression becoming uncharacteristically serious. "We have a problem, Stefan. And when I say problem, I mean full-blown global crisis. It seems Uncle John has..."

He paused, his steely gaze stayed trained on Stefan, mouth set in a hard line. The blonde followed his line of sight and felt her breath catch in her throat. Stefan looked utterly unraveled, eyes wild and fixated with unsettling intensity on the throbbing vein in her exposed neck. His tall frame seemed to vibrate with barely restrained tension as his hands clenched and unclenched spasmodically at his sides.

A violent shudder ripped through him as Damon set the glass back on the ornate side table with a dull thunk, the ruby liquid swirling hypnotically.

"Stefan?" Caroline tried in a small voice, feeling the first tendril of unease knot in her stomach. "Are you okay?"

Damon scoffed softly at her concern, leaning forward to better scrutinize his brother's haggard appearance.

"Look at you - you're barely keeping it together, aren't you?" His mouth curved into a slashing smirk, devoid of any mirth. "This is different, I can tell. The need is just too strong after all this time starving yourself."

Stefan said nothing, just continued to silently wage an invisible war within himself as his haunted gaze swung back and forth between Caroline's jugular and the abandoned glass of blood like a delirious metronome.

Unnerved, Caroline instinctively shrank closer to Damon's reassuring bulk. He squeezed her hand before rising fluidly to his feet, every movement exuding cool confidence.

With one last piercing look at his tormented brother, Damon turned his back, extending his other hand to Caroline in clear invitation to leave Stefan to his demons. She took it without hesitation, allowing him to tuck her protectively against his side as they moved toward the exit.

Damon paused in the doorway, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly on Caroline's shoulder as he tossed a final remark over his shoulder.

"Have a good night, brother."

As soon as they were gone, Stefan was a blur of motion, snatching up the glass and draining its contents with shuddering desperation. The blood hit his tongue like ambrosia, cutting through the raging inferno of hunger with its first intoxicating drops.

Already the mindless Need clawed at him again, more ferocious than ever now that it had been roused from its dormant slumber. Slamming the empty glass back onto the table, Stefan buried his face in his hands, overcome by panic and self-loathing.

♤♤♤♤♤

The brisk morning breeze did little to dissipate the ominous cloud looming over Damon, who paced restlessly outside the Grill, muscled shoulders tense beneath his leather jacket as Sheriff Liz Forbes arrived, her expression carved from granite. Elena's uncle, John Gilbert, shadowed her steps like a silent specter of their reality.

"There was a disturbance at the hospital blood bank last night; some of the supply was compromised," Liz stated, dispensing with preamble.

Damon's piercing blue gaze narrowed. "Compromised? You mean stolen?"

A terse nod. "We almost missed it. The inventory records were altered but when the night manager was questioned he had no recollection of changing them."

The implication hung heavy between them. John's jaw tightened. "Meaning that the vampire who stole the blood used mind control to hide the theft."

Damon flicked him a sardonic look. "I know what you meant."

"We wouldn't have noticed had John not alerted us to recent discrepancies in other hospital blood banks in the county," Liz admitted reluctantly.

A serpent's smile twisted Damon's lips. "How lucky for us, we have John."

He raked the hunter with an assessing stare. Liz pressed on, "We're stepping up security at the hospital, giving the guard vervain to prevent this from happening again."

John seized the opening. "Sheriff, may I offer a suggestion? Why don't Damon and I put our heads together? We can track down whoever is doing this."

For a beat, Liz seemed to weigh the tenuous alliance. "Truthfully I can use the extra hands. Is that something you would be willing to do?"

Loathing sparked in Damon's eyes as they met John's. "Well, of course, I mean if it'll help."

A challenging smile curved John's lips. "I think we could make a good team, don't you think Damon?"

The words hung between them, a powderkeg of enmity. Damon matched his smile, though his gaze glinted with the promise of violence. "John, whatever I can do to help keep this town safe; even if it means spending time with you."

♤♤♤♤♤

Caroline strolled down the hallowed halls of Mystic Falls High, her cherub curls bouncing with each purposeful step as she cradled her phone against her ear. "Finally you're up, sleepyhead!" she caroled in a singsong voice to her best friend Jacob.

A low grumble filtered through the line. "S'too early, Care..." Jacob slurred, still half in dreamland.

"Oh don't be such a grump," Caroline chided with a tinkling laugh. "So? Did you and Liam find an apartment yet or what?"

"Yeah, we got the keys to this awesome new place yesterday," he said, sounding more awake now. "You're gonna love it when you come visit. Huge kitchen, nice balcony, the whole works."

Caroline's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Oooh I can't wait to see it! We're definitely having a housewarming par-tay to break it in properly." Her glossed lips curved into a sly grin. "With a righteous supply of Liam's signature margaritas?"

Jacob groaned loudly. "Oh man, not you too? I'm never going to live down that one ropy night, am I?"

"Nope!" Caroline sang gleefully. "But hey, what're best friends for if not to massively embarrass each other at every opportunity?"

Chuckling, Jacob conceded, "Touché. All right, you brat, I gotta go. We'll make plans soon, okay?"

"You bet!" She beamed as they said their goodbyes and disconnected.

Still smiling, Caroline turned towards the crowded notice board, her good mood evaporating as she scanned the posted list for this year's Founders' Court. Her own name was there as expected, but so was Elena Gilbert's.

A prickle of something like resentment momentarily flickered through Caroline. Of course they had chosen the untouchable Elena too. As if the universe would dare overlook the flawless, raven-haired beauty for anything.

Tilting her chin up defiantly, Caroline squared her shoulders. She refused to let Elena's pity-vote perpetually outshine her own accomplishments. With a toss of her glossy curls, she pivoted on her heel and marched off, intent on showing the judges exactly why she deserved to be Miss Mystic Falls.

♤♤♤♤♤

The shrill peal of the doorbell sliced through the heavy silence of the Boarding House. Damon arched a brow, propriety demanding he answer though he knew exactly who would be lurking on the other side. Swinging the door open, he fixed Anna with a look of sardonic amusement. "I suppose I should be grateful you learned how to use the bell."

The vampire slipped past him into the foyer without invitation. "I'm here on behalf of my mother."

Following her with his gaze, Damon couldn't resist a jab. "On behalf of? Or in spite of?"

Anna's lips thinned, but she pressed on. "I'm sorry about what the others did to Stefan. Abducting him, torturing him...it wasn't supposed to go down like that."

"You're playing house with half a tomb of really pissed off vampires." Damon's tone dripped derision. "What did you think was going to happen?"

Squaring her slim shoulders, Anna met his stare levelly. "My mom is devastated; they tried to overthrow her."

He scoffed at her words. "Why isn't she here telling me this herself?"

"She doesn't really do apologies."

Damon barked a harsh laugh. "Well, it's a coincidence, because I don't do forgiveness." His glacial eyes flickered with subdued menace. "Just run along. And if you're going to continue playing house with these little vampire pets, you might want to stop robbing the blood bank dry because they're onto it."

For a beat, surprise flickered across Anna's delicate features before her expression smoothed. "I haven't been to the local blood bank in at least a week."

He raked her with an assessing look. "Then it's one of your others."

A flicker of unease replaced her composure. "The others are gone, Damon."

"Well, where did they go?"

Her voice was carefully measured. "They weren't cut out for this town. After what happened with your brother, my mom kicked them out and they took off. It's just us and Harper now."

The muscle in Damon's jaw ticked almost imperceptibly. His gaze strayed instinctively to the windows, knowing both Caroline and Stefan was safe at school for now. If these errant undead houseguests had gotten anywhere near them, especially Barbie...

Jerking his focus back to Anna, Damon allowed a tight smile to curve his lips. "Lucky me."

♤♤♤♤♤

Bonnie strode across the sunbaked courtyard of Mystic Falls High, her nose buried in a sheaf of papers as she tried to catch up on the assignments she'd missed. The muted thrum of student chatter faded into the background white noise.

"Bonnie!"

She glanced up at the sound of Elena's voice, papers rustling. "Hey."

Elena drew up alongside her, searching Bonnie's face with poorly masked concern. "I tried to grab you after class but you were already gone. How are you? How's your family?"

Bonnie's lips pressed together in a tight line. "We're dealing. It's been hard."

"Everyone here really missed you," Elena said softly.

With an infinitesimal shrug, Bonnie replied, "Yeah, I just had so much to deal with after Grams' funeral. And honestly, after you told me the tomb spell failed, I just didn't really want to come back."

A flicker of hurt flickered across Elena's features before she quickly schooled them. "I hope you understand why I texted you...I wanted you to know before you came home."

"I understand why." Bonnie paused, struggling to put her chaotic feelings into words. "I just...I shouldn't have had to know."

An awkward silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tensions. Elena opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Bonnie! Bonnie, thank god you're home!" Caroline swept in like a tiny blonde hurricane, pulling Bonnie into an exuberant hug. "I know we talked every day this week, but I missed you."

Elena stiffened almost imperceptibly, clearly stung that Bonnie had answered Caroline's calls but not hers. Oblivious to her friend's chagrin, Caroline gushed, "How are you doing?"

Managing a small smile, Bonnie extricated herself from the embrace. "Better. Glad to be back and trying to keep myself busy."

Caroline's eyes lit up with opportunity. "Well, I can help with that! I need you to help me prepare for the Founders' Court."

Confusion flickered across Elena's face. "The Founders' Court? Did I miss something?"

"The Founders' Court!" The blonde rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "You know, Miss Mystic Falls? They announced it today and you and I are both on the court this year."

Elena's mouth formed a perfect 'o'. "Oh my god, we signed up for that ages ago. I completely forgot."

Arching a polished brow, Caroline asked in a sickly sweet tone, "So are you dropping out then?"

Elena's chin lifted a fraction as she turned her focus to Bonnie. "I can't."

Reading between the lines, Bonnie supplied, "Her mom's the one who really wants her to enter."

♤♤♤♤♤

Damon leaned against the rough brick wall, arms folded across his chest as he studied the steady stream of students trickling out of the school's front doors. He scanned each face intently, waiting to catch a glimpse of those familiar golden locks and that radiant smile that never failed to make his day.

Before he could spot Caroline, two boys brushed past him, their conversation immediately piquing Damon's interest.

"I seriously can't believe you landed the school's queen bee as your Miss Mystic escort," the taller of the two said, nudging his friend enviously. "How the hell did a guy like you pull that off, Jeffrey?"

Jeffrey Lockwood-Hamilton, the shorter boy with an aristocratic air, flashed a smug grin. "What can I say? The Lockwood name may be fading for my family, but it still carries enough prestige to turn a few heads. That, and I like to think my charming wit played a role." He ran a hand through his meticulously styled hair.

"More like your family's money did the convincing," the first boy scoffed. "Caroline Forbes is way out of your league, dude. But hey, at least you might get lucky after the pageant!"

The two jocks snickered like lecherous frat boys. A muscle ticked in Damon's jaw as a flare of jealous irritation sparked through him. How dare that entitled little weasel make crude comments about his Blondie?

He waited until the first boy had wandered off before approaching Jeffrey, his piercing blue eyes boring intensely into the smaller boy's.

"Listen up, trust fund," Damon said in a low, controlled tone laced with subtle compulsion. "You're going to go home, call Caroline, and tell her you've fallen deathly ill. A terrible case of food poisoning - wouldn't want to risk getting your little beauty queen date sick before her big night, now would you?"

Jeffrey's cocky expression faltered, his eyes glazing over as Damon's thrall rendered him powerless against the vampire's will. He could only nod dumbly in compliance before turning on his heel and striding away.

Damon watched him go, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had plans for Caroline that didn't involve some arrogant, silver-spoon-fed little punk making a play for her. Adjusting the collar of his leather jacket, he turned his attention back towards the school's entrance, waiting to catch Caroline's eye the moment she emerged.

♤♤♤♤♤

Caroline emerged through the school's front doors, a confusion knitting her brow as she spotted Damon leaning casually against the brick wall. "Damon? What are you doing here?"

Damon flashed her a lazy smile, uncrossing his arms as he straightened up. "Well, I got bored hanging around the Boarding House," he said with an easy shrug. "And I heard through the grapevine that you walked to school today. Thought I'd save those long legs of yours the trek and give you a ride." His eyes danced over her appreciatively.

Caroline tilted her head skeptically. "And just how did you hear that exactly?" She planted one hand on her cocked hip, her cheerleader ponytail swaying. "Please don't tell me you've been stalking me again."

"Now why would I need to stalk someone as predictable as you?" Damon countered with a teasing lilt. "I have my ways of knowing things, Caroline. You'd be wise not to question them too much."

She narrowed her eyes at him but couldn't quite hide the amused smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Is this going to become a thing now? You being my personal pick-up and drop-off service?"

Damon took a few leisurely steps toward her, closing the distance between them. "And what if it is?" he murmured huskily, holding her bright gaze. "You got a problem with that, Miss Forbes?"

A pulse flickered visibly in Caroline's throat as she swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing. She opened her mouth to respond but seemed to think better of it, simply shaking her head in feigned exasperation as she brushed past him toward his Camaro.

Damon watched her go with a satisfied grin, admiring the sway of her hips before following after her. He could already envision how the rest of this encounter would play out - and he intended to fully enjoy every delicious minute of it.

♤♤♤♤♤

The kitchen was filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee as Caroline busied herself at the counter, pouring the steaming dark liquid into mugs. Stefan entered, his backpack slung over one shoulder, and shot the blonde a casual smile. "Hey Stefan, would you like a cup as well?" she offered.

"No, I'm good, Caroline," Stefan replied, setting his bag down. He was accustomed to her making herself at home in the Boarding House these days.

Damon sauntered up to his brother, studying him with a scrutinizing gaze as Stefan grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit. "How was school?"

Stefan shrugged nonchalantly. "Fine."

"Yeah?" Damon pressed, not convinced. "Same old, same old? Nothing new or interesting to report? No juicy stories to bring home from the hallowed halls of education?"

Stefan eyed his brother warily, sensing something beneath the superficial small talk. "You're making small talk, why?"

"You seem awfully chipper lately," Damon observed with a cocked eyebrow. "Less doom and gloom brooding, a little more pep in your step."

Realization dawned on Stefan's features and he exhaled a resigned sigh. Of course his newfound lightness wouldn't escape Damon's ever-watchful eye. "And you think it's because I drank human blood again."

"Well, I don't want to brag," the older vampire smirked, taking a few prowling steps closer, "But I would definitely take responsibility for this new and improved, happier version of you."

"I hate to burst your bubble," Stefan said evenly, "But I'm clean. No human blood."

Damon scoffed loudly. "Yeah, not possible. I know you too well, brother."

"Not only is it possible, but it's quite true," Stefan insisted with conviction, his jaw setting stubbornly. "I haven't taken even a single drop."

"Stefan, just be serious for a second," Damon implored with an edge of impatience. "You spent the last century and a half being a poster child for Prozac, drowning in eternal misery. And now you expect me to believe that this new, chipper, upbeat you has nothing to do with a return to human blood?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Nothing at all?"

"I'm clean," Stefan stated again, this time through gritted teeth as his grip tightened on the apple. "Drop it, Damon."

"You're lying!" Damon accused, taking another step forward as if confronting Stefan physically might force the truth out of him. "I can always tell when you're lying."

Stefan held his ground, green eyes flashing with determination and the faintest edge of hurt at his brother's refusal to believe him. "Believe what you want."

With that, he spun on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, the tense set of his shoulders signaling the death of the conversation. Damon stared after him, brow furrowed in a deeply skeptical expression.

Caroline had watched the entire terse exchange in silence, feeling the tension thick in the air. Now she turned questioning eyes on Damon. "So...what's going on? How bad would it be if Stefan did start drinking human blood again?"

Damon's jaw clenched and his gaze darkened perceptibly as it met hers. "Honestly, Caroline?" His voice took on a grim edge. "You really don't want to know. Trust me on that."

♤♤♤♤♤

The blonde leaned back against the plush couch cushions, cradling her mug of steaming coffee as she stretched her stocking-clad legs out onto the ottoman. "Aren't days like this just made for lounging around and doing absolutely nothing?" she sighed contentedly, shooting Damon a sly smile from beneath her lashes.

Damon quirked an eyebrow at her over the rim of his own mug as he took a sip of the rich, bitter brew. "Spoken like someone who clearly has no concept of the meaning of boredom," he drawled, lips curling into a lazy smirk.

Before Caroline could formulate a witty retort, the shrill ringing of her phone shattered the tranquil moment. With a small huff of irritation, she fished it out of her pocket and her brow furrowed as she glimpsed the caller ID. "Why is he calling me? Don't tell me he messed up already!"

She connected the call, casting Damon a sidelong glance as she did so. "Hey Jeffrey, is your suit not done yet? Please tell me you got that maroon silk handkerchief for the blazer pocket, the one to match my dress-"

"Caroline!" Jeffrey's strained voice cut her off urgently on the other end. "I'm so sorry, but I've come down with a terrible case of food poisoning. I won't be able to be your escort for the Miss Mystic Falls pageant tomorrow."

Caroline's perfectly arched brows shot up in surprise and dismay, and she straightened attentively on the couch. "You're kidding! What am I going to do?" she exclaimed, her voice rising shrilly. "The pageant is tomorrow and you know the escorts have to be from one of the Founding Families..."

"I know, I know," Jeffrey groaned, sounding utterly miserable. "Believe me, if I could be there, I would. But I can barely stand up without..." His voice trailed off ominously and Caroline grimaced.

"Ugh, okay, enough details, I get the picture. Thanks for the heads-up, I guess." She ended the call with a frustrated sigh, tossing her phone onto the cushion beside her in resignation.

Damon watched her over the rim of his mug, eyes alight with barely-concealed amusement at her over-the-top reaction. "Well, well, looks like the drama queen has a new crisis to throw a hissy fit over," he goaded, unable to resist the opportunity to rile her.

Caroline shot him a withering glare, her eyes blazing. "This is serious, Damon! I need an escort from one of the stupid Founding Families for the pageant, and now my escort just bailed with some ridiculous 'food poisoning' excuse." She punctuated the last two words with derisive air-quotes, her glossy lips pursing in displeasure. "I mean, who even gets food poisoning in Mystic Falls?"

"Well, if you're that desperate for an escort..." Damon's voice took on a deceptively nonchalant tone as he swirled the dregs of coffee in his mug. "I could always step in and fill the role myself."

Caroline's eyes widened in surprise, her perfectly mascara'd lashes fluttering rapidly. "You? Be my Miss Mystic Falls escort?" The words came out laced with disbelief and she eyed him skeptically. "Since when do you volunteer for those kinds of lame, antiquated town events?"

Damon simply shrugged one broad shoulder, his expression infuriatingly smug. "What can I say? Maybe I'm just feeling unusually civic-minded lately." His blue eyes danced with mischief over the rim of his mug as he took another nonchalant sip.

But Caroline wasn't buying it. She knew Damon far too well to think he would willingly sign up to play escort at a stuffy Founder's pageant without some ulterior motive. Her surprise quickly morphed into outright suspicion as she studied him carefully, brow furrowing.

"Okay, out with it," she said flatly, setting her mug down on the coffee table with a dull thunk. "What's your angle here, Damon? You hate these kinds of things - the pomp, the circumstance, the nauseatingly faux heritage pride." She waved a dismissive hand. "So why the sudden eagerness to take a front row seat?"

Damon's infuriatingly cocky smirk didn't falter as he mirrored her movement, placing his own mug down beside hers before leaning back against the cushions languidly. When he spoke, his tone was a study in innocence - for someone who was anything but.

"Can't a guy just want to do a favor for a friend? Show his support in her latest... endeavor?" He let the pause hang meaningfully before continuing. "Unless you'd prefer to scramble at the last minute to find a suitable Founding Family loser to take the guy's place?"

Caroline narrowed her eyes, an internal debate clearly warring within her. As much as she distrusted Damon's motives, he did have a point - finding another appropriate escort this late could be an unnecessary headache.

"And what's in it for you?" she asked at last, her tone laced with curiosity and only the faintest trace of accusation.

The corners of Damon's lips twitched in an expression of feigned hurt. "Why, Caroline, I'm offended you would think I need an ulterior motive to want to help out a friend." His gaze sharpened with undisguised heat as it roved over her trim figure in a subtly possessive manner. "Though I certainly wouldn't object to getting a sneak preview of you in that pageant dress you mentioned..."

Caroline felt a traitorous flush warming her cheeks at the blatant innuendo and subconscious invitation in his stare. Huffing out a sigh of feigned exasperation, she rolled her eyes - but she couldn't quite disguise the reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

"Fine," she relented at last, hoping she wouldn't come to regret this decision. "You can be my backup escort, I guess. Just promise me you'll be on your best behavior?"

The wicked glint in Damon's eyes spoke volumes as his grin stretched wider. "Would I be anything else?"

♤♤♤♤♤

Elena paced the kitchen of the Gilbert home, phone cradled against her ear as she absentmindedly twisted the cap off a bottle of soda. "I'm sorry for the short notice. I didn't even know the Miss Mystic Falls was coming up, much less that I'd be selected as part of the court."

Stefan's smooth voice filtered through the line, instantly soothing her nerves. "Don't worry about it. I'll be happy to escort you regardless."

Wandering over to the window, Elena gazed out at the dusky twilight creeping across the manicured lawns. "My mom was really into all the Founders' Day stuff back in the day. She was even crowned Miss Mystic Falls herself when she was younger." A wistful smile tugged at her lips. "I kind of want to do this for her."

"Then we'll make it an event to remember," Stefan replied with conviction. "It'll be great, I promise. We'll have fun with it."

Elena's smile widened at his reassuring words. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then. I love you."

"I love you too."

The line disconnected with a soft click. Within the shadowy confines of his bedroom at the Boarding House, Stefan stared down at the bloodstained pouch in his hands, a muscle feathering in his taut jaw. Quickly stashing it in his dresser drawer, he headed downstairs toward the cellar, footsteps light against the creaking wood.

He pulled open the heavy refrigerator door, revealing shelf after shelf lined with pouches of deep crimson. The scent washed over him in an intoxicating wave. A floorboard creaked behind him and he whirled, coming face-to-face with Damon's mocking smirk.

"Well, well," Damon drawled. "Looks like my little brother's a lying thief." His eyes glinted with undisguised delight. "So when were you planning to cut me in on this lushy stash?"

Stefan's lips flattened into a grim line, but he held his brother's taunting gaze steadily. "Go ahead, help yourself."

With a disdainful snort, Damon waved a dismissive hand. "No, no, I'm talking about the fact that you're a closet blood junkie."

Tension crackled between them, thick and conspicuous. Finally, Stefan broke the loaded silence. "So I'm drinking blood again. You're the one who shoved it on me in the first place. What's your problem?"

"Under control?" Damon gave a harsh bark of laughter. "You robbed the damn hospital!"

Stefan lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "So what's your point?"

"My point?" Damon echoed incredulously. "We're trying to keep a low profile here, genius. Why don't you just walk up to Sheriff Forbes and ask her to tap a vein while you're at it?"

A flicker of something like disdain twisted Stefan's lips. "Have my actions negatively impacted you in any way? I can't imagine what that must feel like."

For an instant, Damon's flickered with something almost like annoyance before his entire expression shuttered. "Yeah? What does your precious girlfriend think about the new, improved you?"

Stefan's eyes glinted with challenge. "Nothing's changed. I'm still the same person I've always been."

"Clearly," Damon scoffed, derision practically dripping from the single word.

Squaring his broad shoulders, Stefan pressed on. "Elena doesn't need to know anything about this yet."

Damon's expression shuttered, a flicker of genuine concern creasing his brow. "You've been off the human stuff for years, Stefan. If you're having trouble controlling the cravings..."

"I'm not having trouble," Stefan cut him off, tone clipped.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Damon challenged, arms folding across his chest. "I know exactly what it's like - that Jekyll and Hyde feeling, that switch that sometimes flips and you snap." His gaze bored into Stefan's. "Right now is really not a good time for me to be worried about you losing your grip."

Stefan held his stare, jaw clenched mutinously. For a long beat, the only sound was their unnaturally still breathing. Finally, he spoke, enunciating each word with painstaking care. "I know that it pains you to see this, but I'm fine, okay? I'm perfectly fine."

Crossing the small space in two strides, he snatched a blood pouch from the refrigerator and thrust it at Damon. "So please, do me a favor and back off."

Without awaiting a response, Stefan spun on his heel and stormed out, the cellar door slamming shut behind him with a resolute bang.

Damon remained rooted in place, one hand scrubbing over his shadowed jaw as he stared at the stolen blood pouches with a calculating gleam. His brother's precipitous descent was unfolding far quicker than he could have anticipated.

If Stefan was no longer willing to heed his voice of reason, Damon would need to take more aggressive measures to keep his downward spiral in check.

♤♤♤♤♤

Caroline smoothed her pale blue dress nervously as she took her place in front of the panel of judges. Her heart raced, but she fought to keep her megawatt smile firmly in place. This was her year - she could feel it coursing through her veins like fire.

Carol Lockwood, regal as ever in a tailored blazer, gave Caroline an encouraging nod before addressing the contestants. "This year's Miss Mystic Falls will have the great honor of appearing at the 150th Founders' Day Gala. Before we announce the winner, let's hear a bit more about each of you extraordinary young women."

~~~

Elena tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her mind admittedly elsewhere as she stepped forward. So much had happened this year - losses, revelations, dangers that most couldn't even fathom. How could she focus on a pageant at a time like this?

She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers toying with the lace hem of her dress. "I recognize that I haven't been as involved this year as I used to be," she admitted, regret lacing her tone.

The ghostly memory of Miranda's warm smile beckoned, and Elena blinked back the sting of tears. She owed it to her mother's legacy to at least try to win.

~~~

Caroline stood confident, the soft chiffon swaying around her knees as she stepped forward. Her bright smile radiated confidence as she addressed the panel.

"I'm on the Mystic Falls beautification committee; I volunteer at the poor soup kitchen. I implemented this year's go green campaign at school and was in charge of this year's police raffle, as well as most of the main events in Mystic Falls," Caroline declared, her voice ringing with pride.

~~~

"I don't think it's wrong that I want to win two years running," the perfectly coiffed blonde stated matter-of-factly. "Consistency is key, and I have the track record to prove my dedication to our community."

~~~

"My community service hours were court-mandated because of my DUI," another contestant Tina, stated with a toss of her hair. "But that doesn't mean I wasn't fully committed."

~~~

Amber shifted uncomfortably, all too aware that she was the outsider here. "I was surprised to have been selected, not being from one of the founding families," she admitted. "But I'll work hard to make you proud if I'm chosen."

~~~

Caroline tucked a stray curl behind her ear, her movements poised and elegant. "Mystic Falls means everything to me. If selected as your Miss Mystic Falls, I vow to uphold the values of community, family, and honor that make our town so special. I'll be a queen you can be proud of."

~~~

Elena lifted her chin, her brown eyes shining with renewed determination. "But I'm aware of what an honor this is and I want you to know that I take it seriously. This was really important to my mother. She believed in community, family, honor and loyalty. It's the legacy she left for me."

♤♤♤♤♤

The heavy brass knocker rapped against the thick wooden door of the Salvatore boarding house, the sound reverberating through the dimly lit foyer. Damon ambled over, expecting to find Caroline returning from her Miss Mystic interview, a coy smirk playing across his lips. But when he pulled open the door, it was not the bubbly blonde on the other side, but rather John Gilbert wearing a grim expression.

"Hello, partner," John said, brushing past Damon into the house uninvited.

Damon's eyes narrowed as John invaded his space. "What do you want, John?" he asked flatly.

"You've been avoiding my calls." John's tone was accusatory as his gaze bore into Damon.

"Most people would take that as a hint," he countered with a derisive snort.

John wasn't deterred. "Where should we start looking for the vampires?"

Damon laughed humorlessly. "What's with the act? We both know you don't actually care about catching any vampires, not if it means confronting me."

A muscle ticked in John's jaw, but he pressed on. "On the contrary, I care deeply about ridding this town of your ilk."

"Is that what Isobel says too?" Damon's voice dripped with disdain. "Or did she conveniently leave out the part where she's a vampire herself?"

The barb struck a nerve, but John stood his ground. "Isobel and I have a mutual interest in recovering a lost invention from the Fell Church massacre in 1864..."

As John recounted the tale of Jonathan Gilbert's mysterious device and its link to the church vampires, realization dawned on Damon's face. Of course - John was determined to retrieve this object, and he needed Damon's knowledge of the town's vampiric descendants to locate it.

"So let me get this straight," Damon said, his voice a dangerous calm. "You're blackmailing me, because you think I know which of the surviving vampires has this invention?"

John's smile was thin and mirthless. "I'm giving you a chance to keep your secrets, Damon. But I need that device."

"Get out," Damon snarled, his vampire face ghoulishly contorting his features as the fury bubbled over. "Get out before I show you what this 'vampire ilk' is capable of!"

Damon's startling transformation seemed to shake John briefly, but the hunter quickly regained his composure. "You'll want to reconsider that tone when the Town Council hears about what you really are."

A low, guttural growl rumbled from Damon's chest as he seized John by the lapels, hauling the human off his feet with monstrous strength. "By all means, tell them. After I've killed every last one...starting with you!"

The tension in the dimly lit foyer was palpable as Damon gripped John by the lapels, the vampire's face twisted into a monstrous snarl. Just then, the front door swung open, allowing a shaft of warm evening light to spill in from the twilit outdoors.

"Uncle John, I didn't expect to see you here," came Caroline's familiar voice as she stepped over the threshold.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she took in the bizarre scene before her - Damon looking murderous while manhandling Elena's uncle. Caroline tucked an errant blonde curl behind her ear, her pageant smile faltering.

"He was just leaving," Damon bit out through clenched teeth, his dark gaze flickering to Caroline briefly before refocusing its icy intensity on John.

The impeccably groomed Mr. Gilbert struggled to regain his composure under Damon's vise-like grip. Clearing his throat, he managed a tight smile toward the Sheriff daughter.

"Caroline, we haven't got chance to catch up. I was just--"

"Leaving," Damon ground out, giving John a forceful shove that propelled the human toward the open doorway.

John shot Caroline a plaintive look, but the young woman simply pressed her lips into a firm line, feigning confusion. With a curt nod, he straightened his rumpled jacket and stalked out onto the porch without another word.

An uneasy silence hung in the air as Caroline watched John's retreating form. Turning back to Damon, she searched his stormy expression.

"What was that about?" she asked carefully, effortlessly slipping back into the peacemaking role she often played among the supernatural factions in Mystic Falls.

♤♤♤♤♤

The blonde looped her arm through Bonnie's as they strolled down the hallway of the opulent Lockwood mansion. The melodic strains of stringed instruments drifted out from the grand ballroom where the Miss Mystic Falls pageant preparations were underway.

"The Fell cousins don't stand a chance," Caroline stated matter-of-factly. "And Amber Bradley is only on the court as a token non-founding family member to make it look less elitist, which we both know is laughable."

Bonnie smirked at her friend's brutal honesty about the town's entrenched social hierarchy.

Caroline's expression turned conspiratorial as she motioned for Bonnie to lean in closer. "So that just leaves Elena as my real competition. And you know she'll have the whole sympathy vote locked up after her parents' tragic accident."

"Wow, very sensitive take there, Care," Bonnie deadpanned with an arched brow.

A flicker of remorse passed over Caroline's delicate features. "You're right, that was totally insensitive of me. With everything that is going on, this pageant stuff must seem so unimportant."

Bonnie gave her friend's arm a comforting squeeze. "It's okay, I get it. You've wanted to win Miss Mystic Falls for as long as I can remember."

"It's just...my grandmother was Miss Mystic, and both my aunts too," Caroline explained, her voice taking on a wistful quality. "My mom is the only one who didn't get that coveted title. I guess I feel like I need to redeem the Forbes name and finally bring that crown home where it belongs."

"No one deserves to win more than you, Caroline," Bonnie said sincerely. "No one has put the work for it as much as you."

A beaming smile spread across Caroline's face as she pulled Bonnie into a warm embrace. "You're truly the best, Bon. I still can't believe the committee didn't choose you for the court this year."

Bonnie waved off the comment dismissively. "Oh you know these traditions and debutante balls were never really my scene."

As they entered the opulent ballroom, Caroline's eyes immediately zeroed in on Elena across the cavernous space. She was leaving arm-in-arm with her gallant boyfriend Stefan, messing up the dance as they do. Clearly they won't taking this seriously.

♤♤♤♤♤

The murmurs of rehearsing couples echoed through the Mystic Falls High hallway as Caroline and Bonnie made their entrance. Carol Lockwood's voice rose above the din, calling out counts as she demonstrated the choreography for the upcoming pageant. Bonnie couldn't help but notice Elena and Stefan moving towards the exit, seeming to glide through the chaos with an ethereal grace.

"Bonnie. Hey," Elena greeted warmly, her deep brown eyes searching Bonnie's face with a hint of sisterly concern.

"Hey, how are you?" Stefan added, his forest green gaze equally attuned to Bonnie's guarded expression.

An invisible weight seemed to press down on Bonnie in that moment, memories of the supernatural awakenings and loss she had faced threatening to resurface. But she said nothing, her full lips pressed into a tense line as she struggled to keep her tumultuous emotions contained.

Ever the social ambassador, Caroline swooped in with her bubbly charisma. "I begged Bonnie to fill in for my escort," she declared with a dazzling smile, gesturing toward her sullen friend. "He thinks he's too cool for this."

The words danced off Caroline's tongue with practiced nonchalance, masking the truth that Damon was meant to be at her side. She knew bringing him could incite Bonnie's lingering unease with the undead Salvatores. For now, preserving the delicate peace was paramount.

Elena's gut twisted with unease as she watched Bonnie's pensive expression. Something was clearly weighing on her friend's mind beyond the usual high school stresses. "Bonnie, do you have a minute?" she asked gently but insistently.

Bonnie avoided Elena's probing gaze, her shoulders tense. "We only have 30 minutes for rehearsal," she replied curtly, deflecting.

But Elena wasn't deterred so easily. "It'll only take a minute, please?" She widened her eyes imploringly.

Sensing a opportunity to fix the crack from between the two, the blonde chimed in with an air of nonchalance. "Go, I need to talk to Mrs. Lockwood anyways." Though a selfish part of her relished having Bonnie's undivided attention these days amid their coven's fracture.

With clear reluctance, Bonnie followed Elena out into the vacant hallway, their footsteps echoing off the lockers. Once alone, Elena wasted no time cutting to the heart of the matter. "Bonnie, you have to tell me what's wrong."

"It's not worth talking about," Bonnie deflected bitterly, her dark eyes glinting with turmoil she couldn't conceal.

Elena refused to back down. "What do you mean it's not worth it? You barely said ten words to me, and you won't even look at Stefan. Is it him? Is it Stefan?"

With a heavy sigh, Bonnie's front crumbled under her friend's loving persistence. "Listen, Elena, I can't just pretend that everything's okay. Everything my Grams did was to protect us from those vampires in the tomb. And now they're out, which means she died for nothing."

Elena's heart constricted at the depth of Bonnie's pain. "I'm so sorry, Bonnie," she murmured, wishing she could rewind time and rewrite this tragedy. "What can I do to make it better?"

"That's just it, Elena," Bonnie replied, sorrow weighing down her words. "There's nothing you can do. I know it was a cardiac arrest but I can't help but blame him, Elena, him and Damon, and I'm not gonna put you in a situation where you have to choose sides. I'm just having a hard time with it, okay?"

Unbeknownst to the friends, Stefan hovered in the shadows beyond the hallway, his keen vampire hearing having picked up every heartrending syllable of their exchange. His stomach twisted with guilty remorse.

"Why isn't Caroline held to the same standard?" Elena's brow furrowed in confusion. "Isn't she just as close to Damon?"

A resigned look flickered across Bonnie's features. "Caroline has gone out of her way to keep Damon away from me, be it in conversations or real life. She knows I'm uncomfortable around him. And I didn't even tell her anything, she just knows."

♤♤♤♤♤

Stefan strode across the campus, his boots crunching on the frost-dusted grass. The crisp autumn air should have been invigorating, but it only sharpened the hungering ache simmering beneath his surface. As he neared the basketball court, the tantalizing scent of blood bloomed in his nostrils - warm, metallic, delicious.

One of the players lay crumpled on the pavement, clutching a gashed knee that oozed crimson. Stefan's gums throbbed with searing need as his darkening eyes locked onto the glistening fluid. He could practically taste the intoxicating vital essence on his tongue. The demon within rattled its cage, begging to be freed.

So transfixed was he that he didn't notice Alaric's approaching footsteps until the teacher's hand landed firmly on his shoulder. In a blink, Stefan whirled around, fangs punching through his gums as he seized Alaric's throat in a vise-like grip. A primal snarl reverberated from his depths.

"Stefan!" Alaric choked out, his eyes widening in shock and fear.

The sound of the familiar voice pierced through the bloodlust fogging Stefan's brain. With a shuddering gasp, he released his iron grasp, stumbling back in horror. What had he almost done?

"Yes, I'm sorry," he rasped, cradling his throbbing skull. "I was just...I was feeling a little sick."

Before Alaric could reply, Stefan pivoted on his heel and fled, his vampiric face melting back to its human guise. But he couldn't outrun the self-loathing clenching his gut. He was a monster, a Ripper, constantly teetering on the edge of savagery. No matter how far he came, the demon would always lurk within.

Alaric watched Stefan's retreating form with a concerned crease between his brows. He knew there was more to the story than the vampire let on.

♤♤♤♤♤

The crisp yet humid noon air whipped tendrils of Caroline's golden hair across her face as Damon's midnight blue Camaro growled down the tree-lined streets of Mystic Falls. She brushed the stray locks behind her ear, smoothing the fabric of her dress across her lap. Her slender fingers trembled ever so slightly against the material.

"Where to, Barbie?" Damon's silky voice drawled from the driver's seat. He flashed her a lopsided smirk, his azure eyes glinting with mischief and something deeper she couldn't quite place.

Caroline swallowed hard, forcing her nerves down. "The tailor's shop. I need to pick up my dress for the pageant after the alterations."

One dark eyebrow quirked up. "And you needed me to chauffeur you because...?"

A traitorous blush crept across Caroline's cheeks, warming them to a rosy hue. "Because I'm a total basket case today and didn't trust myself not to wrap my car around a tree if I drove," she admitted with uncharacteristic frankness.

"Also, you're always pestering me to let you play driver anyway. I'm just cutting out the incessant nagging for once." She hoped the sarcasm masked her nerves.

Damon tsked lightly, but the glimmer in his eye told her he saw right through her deflection. "Now why would you be nervous? You know that Miss Mystic crown is practically sitting on your perfectly coiffed head already." He honestly didn't understand Caroline's need to win. It was obvious that she is perfect and didn't need a crown from the vanpid society to prove it.

The blonde managed a tight smile, though her stomach twisted into knots. He was right - she was the picture-perfect candidate. But something lingering within wondered if looking the part would be enough.

As Damon pulled up to the warm red brick building, he killed the powerful engine with a dramatic flick of his wrist. "There, crisis averted. You made it to the tailor's without driving off the road in a blind panic," he quipped.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he leveled his gaze at her. "No need to fret, Blondie. You were born for this vapid charade. Now let's go get your dress so you can knock 'em dead."

His particular brand of backhanded confidence was like a rope pulling her from the depths of her insecurity. Sealing her features into an inscrutable mask, Caroline gave a single nod and followed him into the tailor's shop.

♤♤♤♤♤

Caroline's room, bathed in the soft glow of twilight, was a canvas of her life-a collage of cheerleading trophies, candid photos, and the faint scent of lavender. It was here, surrounded by familiar comforts, that she would unveil the centerpiece of the evening.

The webcam flickered to life, her two best friends Jessica and Samantha appearing eagerly on the screen, who had been more than friends-they were co-conspirators in the quest for the perfect dress. It had been their shared adventure, scouring racks at the local thrift shop, where amidst the forgotten treasures, they unearthed a gown that seemed to whisper Caroline's name.

As Caroline stepped back to fit into the frame, the dress came into full view. It was a vision in burgundy. The fabric, a delicate dance of chiffon and satin, cascaded down her figure, flaring gently at her feet, as if ready to sweep across the dance floor of the upcoming pageant.

The silk bodice, caught the light with every movement, sending prisms of light across the room. The plunging neckline was a bold statement, tempered by the innocence of the spaghetti straps that rested lightly on her shoulders.

Jessica and Samantha watched in awed silence as their friend twirled slowly, the gauzy layers swirling around her calves. Pride shone in their eyes - they had helped craft this transformation.

"So? What do you guys think?" Caroline's voice wavered slightly with uncharacteristic vulnerability as she finally stilled, facing the camera. "You're the first ones to see it on me."

"Oh Caroline..." Jessica let out a long breath. "It's perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Samantha nodded fervently. "You're going to be the true queen of the ball in that dress, no question."

A relieved smile bloomed across Caroline's face at their reassurance. "You don't think it's...too much? For me, I mean?"

"No way!" Samantha's eyes were bright with conviction. "That dress was made for you. No one else could pull it off."

"Thanks, guys." The blonde smiled at the camera, her face brightened by a new wave of confidence.

"But, you know, a girl can't go to the ball without a date." Samantha's voice was light and playful.

"So whose finally your escort? What was his name again...Jerry?" Jessica teased, knowing full well that it wasn't.

A unconscious blush crept into Caroline's cheeks, but her smile remained. "Well, about that -"

A muffled knock at the downstairs door cut her off. All three girls turned toward the sound.

"Hold on a second, you guys. I will talk to you later, ok? There is someone at the door. Love you both. Bye!" Caroline blew a quick kiss at the camera and switched it off.

Caroline turned toward the door, her curiosity piqued by the persistent knocking. "One sec," she called out, gathering the skirts of her dress as she moved downstairs.

Her bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floors as she crossed the foyer. A sliver of golden twilight spilled through the narrow windows flanking the front door as the blonde pulled it open, the hinges letting out a creak of protest. But instead of a visitor, she found only a large box sitting unattended on the porch.

"What the..." Caroline's brows knit together as she cautiously poked her head outside. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Only the whisper of a warm breeze through the trees answered her call, gently rustling the neatly trimmed boxwoods lining the yard. She shivered slightly, wrapping the folds of her satin robe a little tighter across her chest.

After one more furtive scan of the deserted street, Caroline bent to retrieve the mysterious package. A plain white label was adhered to the top, a large black 'C' scrawled across it in thick, sharp strokes.

Her heart picked up its cadence as she hefted the surprisingly weighty box and tugged it inside, using her hip to nudge the door closed behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end - she knew exactly whose calling card this was.

Carefully situating the box at the foot of her bed, Caroline perched on the plush comforter and reached for the pair of scissors on her nightstand. She sliced through the tough packaging tape with a few deft strokes, tossing aside the lid to reveal the box's contents.

A small envelope nestled atop the tissue paper, the thick cream stationery unmarked except for a few words hand-scripted in an elegant yet vaguely unsettling calligraphy.

"For the future Miss Mystic Falls."

A shudder rippled through Caroline's slender frame as she read those seven words. So it was from her mysterious benefactor/stalker- the strange, anonymous person who seemed to have fixated on her. Gifts had appeared on her doorstep before, always unlabeled, always inexplicably tied to whatever upcoming event or want consumed her focus.

Part of her thrilled at the thought of an admirer cheering her on from afar. But a darker part couldn't shake the vague sense of unease that came with these anonymous offerings. Squaring her shoulders, she set the card aside and parted the reams of delicate tissue paper to reveal the latest present...

Her fingers trembled with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation as she parted the final layer of delicate tissue paper. A soft gasp escaped her lips when the hidden treasure was finally revealed.

"Moonlight Sonata", she thought, for that was the melody it whispered. Its silvery fabric flowed like liquid moonbeams, pooling at her feet. It was a dress that could have been spun from moonbeams themselves. The sleek, silvery fabric seemed to shimmer and flow like liquid light pooling at her feet. The intricate bodice was a constellation of delicate lace and beadwork - as if an celestial seamstress had woven stardust into the very fibers. Each tiny crystal embellishment along the sweetheart neckline winked and danced, refracting the waning sunlight into kaleidoscopic prisms.

Caroline was utterly transfixed, her fingers reverently tracing along the gown's ethereal fabric. Goosebumps prickled her skin at the cool, silky caress. "Why does this stalker have such incredible taste?" she mused aloud, unable to tear her eyes away from the breathtaking creation.

She knew the wise decision would be to carefully refold it and stash it away with the other ill-advised "gifts" accumulating at the back of her closet. But the temptation to try it on, just this once, was too powerful to resist.

With careful, almost ceremonious movements, Caroline slipped out of her burgundy dress, letting it puddle on her feet, before placing it carefully on her bed. She lifted the shimmering gown like a sacred offering, raising it over her head and allowing the gossamer layers to embrace her.

It molded to her figure as if it had been made for her and her alone. The delicate, embedded crystal sleeves whispered down her arms, leaving a shimmering trail of crystal accents in their wake. As she turned to face the antique mirror, Caroline felt the air leave her lungs in a sharp exhale.

She barely recognized the ethereal vision reflected back at her. Gone was the insecure high school girl fretting over dresses and dates. In that looking glass stood a celestial princess born of stardust and moonlight. The diaphanous skirt seemed to billow around her like a comet's tail frozen in sparkling trajectory, the delicate train whispering secrets of ancient ballrooms and midnight trysts as it whispered across the floorboards.

On an indrawn breath, Caroline began to spin in a slow, rapturous pirouette. The layers of the dress bloomed like a flower unfurling its petals, surrounding her in an iridescent cyclone. In that singular, breathtaking moment, she was untethered - a dancer spinning among the cosmos, lighter than a star.

Caroline was utterly entranced, losing herself in the vision reflected back at her. She twirled again, skirts swirling in an ethereal spiral, when a husky voice suddenly broke through her reverie.

"I don't think they'll be able to crown anyone else after seeing you in that dress."

Caroline startled, the layers of shimmering fabric stilling abruptly as she whirled toward the sound. Damon lounged against the window frame, his lips curved in an appreciative smirk as he shamelessly drank in her appearance.

"Damon!" she gasped, clutching the gauzy material to her chest. "What are you doing here?"

One dark eyebrow quirked upwards as his gaze slowly raked over her from head to toe. "Well, you wouldn't let me see your Miss Mystic dress at the tailor's...so I got a little curious."

Caroline rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the flush creeping into her cheeks under his bold perusal. Of course Damon would somehow insert himself into a situation he had no business being in.

Seeming to shake himself back to the present, Damon pushed off from the window and moved further into the room, circling her slowly.

"Not that I'm complaining, but...isn't this look a little over-the-top for a small town pageant?" He cocked his head, taking in the beadwork and intricate embroidery. "This dress belongs on a runway in Paris, not a Founders Hall"

Caroline's hands fluttered self-consciously over the ornate bodice. "It's not my dress, actually. It's..." She trailed off, glancing over at the innocuous cardboard box and plain envelope. "Another gift. From my stalker."

Damon's brows furrowed at that, the playful air evaporating as his eyes followed hers to the package. Without a word, he crossed the room and crouched down, examining the box more closely.

"Your secret admirer has excellent - if a bit dramatic - taste, I'll give them that," he mused, running a finger over the thick vellum envelope.

Realizing that he didn't want his Blondie wearing some creeps gift, Damon's gaze sharpened as he straightened, fixing Caroline with an inscrutable look. "Please tell me you're not going to actually wear this."

Caroline felt her cheeks warm under his sudden intensity. "Of course not!" she insisted, fingers tightening defensively around the glittering fabric. "I already have the perfect dress for Miss Mystic Falls."

She turned away abruptly, determined to shed this exquisite if unnerving garment. Grasping the ornate zipper at her back, Caroline tried to tug it downwards - but the row of delicate teeth seemed to be stubbornly adhered.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, she shot Damon a beseeching look over her shoulder. "A little help?"

He was at her side in an instant, his unique woodsy scent and the solid warmth of his body enveloping her. Caroline instinctively stilled as his calloused fingertips grazed the bare skin of her neck, seeking purchase on the zipper's tab.

Their eyes locked in the mirror as he slowly inched the zipper down in a soft rasp of parting teeth. The shimmering fabric slowly slackened around Caroline's curves, threatening to pool at her feet. Electricity seemed to crackle between them in the heavy silence.

Caroline's breath came shorter, her pulse fluttering wildly in her throat. Damon's jaw tensed, scorching her with a look of molten intensity before he finally stepped back. She clutched the bodice to her chest, keeping the ethereal gown in place as she backed toward the bathroom.

"I'll just...I need to change," she murmured, grabbing her discarded pajamas from the bed.

Damon gave her a curt nod, but his penetrating stare followed her until she'd closed the bathroom door firmly behind her.

Several minutes later, Caroline emerged clad in soft cotton, the galactic gown carefully refolded in the box. She crossed to her closet and knelt, tugging open the cavernous bottom drawer to reveal a huge wooden trunk.

One by one, she began transferring the anonymous "gifts" into the trunk's depths - jewel-toned gowns, ornate accessories, all clearly chosen with painstaking care and expense. The spectral silver dress was the final addition, coming to rest atop the menagerie of forgotten finery with a soft crinkle of tissue paper.

With a decisive click, Caroline sealed the lid, banishing away this latest symbol of her stalker's unhealthy fascination.

Then she moved over to her vanity table, where the small paper bag from the tailor's shop sat. Reaching inside, she withdrew a neatly folded square of rich crimson silk.

"Here," she said, holding it out to Damon. "It's for your suit."

He accepted the offering with furrowed brows, running the luxurious fabric between his fingers. As the material unfurled, he realized it was a pocket handkerchief to precisely match the deep burgundy hue of the dress laid carefully across her bed.

A faint smile played across Damon's lips as he tucked the silk into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. "Making sure I'm properly accessorized to escort the future Miss Mystic Falls, are we?"

Caroline felt her cheeks warm slightly at his words and the undertone of familiarity. She was clad in her soft cotton pajamas, having just changed out of the ethereal silver gown, but his comment still made her self-conscious.

"Of course," she responded airily, moving to tenderly collect her crimson pageant dress and drape it over a padded hanger. "First impressions are important."

As she fussed over the skirt's elegant folds, Damon drifted closer, openly admiring the detailing up close. "Well, you certainly look the part already, Miss Forbes."

His voice had dropped to an intimate murmur, soft with an unmistakable undercurrent of appreciation. Caroline stilled in her pale pink pajama set, suddenly hyper-aware of the slight thrum of tension, of possibility, hanging in the air between them.

Damon's fingertips skimmed a teasing path along the dress's sweetheart neckline as he stepped in behind her. So close that the subtle woodsy notes of his cologne enveloped her senses. Caroline's pulse stuttered beneath her skin, but she didn't pull away.

"An exquisite dress, fit for an exquisite queen," he purred, lips settling devastatingly near the delicate shell of her ear. "I don't think anyone will be able to look away."

♤♤♤♤♤

The Founders Hall was abuzz with activity the next morning, the stately old building humming with excitement for the annual Miss Mystic Falls pageant.

Out on the manicured grounds, a slender figure in a cream-colored sundress moved gracefully between the neatly trimmed shrubbery. Anna's dark curls were meticulously coiffed, her makeup impeccable - the very picture of refined gentility. Only the slight grimace as she adjusted the slingback heel of her strappy sandals betrayed her true comfort level.

"In the running for Miss Mystic Falls?"

Anna startled at the sound of Damon's low drawl, her head whipping around to find him leaning against a thick trellis, studying her with undisguised amusement.

Recovering quickly, she offered him a polite, if somewhat strained, smile. "Sometimes you have to wear uncomfortable shoes to blend in. I was actually meant to participate in this...back in 1864. Before everything happened."

A rueful chuckle escaped Damon's lips as he pushed off the lattice to close the distance between them. "Ah yes, nostalgia's a fickle bitch, isn't she?"

Anna's smile tightened fractionally at his mocking tone. "If you're just going to stand there and make fun, could you please move along?"

"John Gilbert seems to think your mother stole some kind of artifact from his ancestor Jonathan back in 1864," Damon replied without preamble.

The vampire's brows knit together in confusion. "What are you, his errand boy now?"

"I don't know the details," Damon said with a careless shrug of his leather-clad shoulders. "But I definitely don't want Gilbert getting his hands on it, whatever it is."

"I could ask my mother," Anna said slowly. "But you've made it abundantly clear you don't exactly trust us vampire folk. So why should I bother lifting a well-manicured finger to help you?"

A sardonic twist of Damon's lips was her only answer for a long moment as he seemed to weigh his response. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and utterly devoid of inflection.

"Because you want to stay in this pathetic little town. And with John Gilbert sniffing around, that's quickly becoming an impossibility." His ice blue gaze pierced her with quiet intensity. "Find out where this artifact is, and when he clears out...you can buy yourself a charming new welcome mat."

Anna held his stare for a calculated beat before giving a tight nod of acquiescence. Damon returned the silent acknowledgment with the barest dip of his chin before turning on his heel and melting back into the crowd without another word.

♤♤♤♤♤

The older Salvatore's penetrating gaze swept over the steadily swelling crowd gathered on the immaculate grounds of Founders Hall. The excitement was evident, buoyed by the thrum of stringed instruments tuning up and the intermittent pops of champagne corks from under the event tent.

His eyes narrowed slightly as they landed on two distinctly unfamiliar faces navigating the throngs of Mystic Falls elite. The man was effortlessly striking - chiseled features, raven hair artfully tousled, and a powerful jawline that could have been carved from granite. His companion was no less arresting, with luminous brown skin and exotic beauty. They made an undeniably head-turning pair, both radiating an almost preternatural sort of magnetism.

There was something oddly purposeful about their casual meandering, looking decidedly out of place amidst the homespun gentry. As if they could sense his intent study, the striking woman's gaze suddenly snapped to Damon, holding his stare for the briefest of moments before they altered their course - directly toward him.

The man reached him first, offering up an ingratiating smile that didn't quite extend to his pale eyes.

"Pardon me, I was wondering if you might be able to direct me to where the participants are?" His accent was crisp, cultured - distinctly out of place in rural Virginia.

Damon felt the hairs prickling on the back of his neck as the woman flanked her partner, her own smile all painted scarlet lips and razor-sharp cheekbones. Every finely-honed instinct was screaming at him that this couple was laden with secrets and potential danger. Maybe they were part of the tomb vampires who have returned for revenge.

Perhaps sensing the wariness emanating from the man before her, the woman tilted her head slightly in a birdlike gesture. "You'll have to forgive us, we're new to the area."

Her tone was colored politeness, but he wondered if she found the entire premise of their quaint tradition amusing. He couldn't lead these two straight to Caroline, not when his gut was blaring unmistakable warnings. Damon forced his features into an expression of polite disinterest as he met the woman's probing stare.

"The contestants are getting ready on the other side of the property, I believe," he lied easily. "They like to keep that Area separate from the crowd before the pageant kicks off."

The woman arched one perfectly sculpted brow, but her partner seemed to accept the half-truth with a polite dip of his chin. "Of course, makes perfect sense. Thank you for the information."

Without breaking eye contact, he flashed them a disarming grin, willing the calculated charisma he could turn on like a faucet to saturate every syllable. "I'm sure the contestants would be delighted to have two more...appreciative audience members."

There - he'd successfully misdirected. Let them interpret his evasion however they wished. Perhaps they would wander off in search of a more useful source. But he wasn't about to potentially lead these two to Caroline's doorstep, no matter how innocuous their curiosity might seem on the surface.

Just then, a familiar voice reached his ears, ragged and laced with desperation. Damon's head whipped around to find Stefan staggering into the hall, his eyes wild and face contorted. He looked well on his way to being overwhelmed by blood lust.

"Stefan..." Damon hissed urgently, his focus abruptly wrenched away from the mysterious couple.

In that split second of distraction, they seemed to simply...vanish, swallowed up by the crowd as if they'd never been there at all. Damon suppressed a muscle ticking in his jaw, eerily certain this weird encounter was far from over.

Was he being paranoid for no reason...

♤♤♤♤♤

The room was a whirlwind of hairspray, makeup brushes, and excited chatter as the Miss Mystic Falls contestants put the final touches on their looks. Caroline carefully lined her lips with a rich burgundy stain, trying to ignore the melancholy settling in her chest.

Across the room, Jenna was putting the finishing curls into Elena's elegant updo, styling tools and bobby pins strewn across the vanity. She caught Caroline's eye in the mirror, offering up a warm smile and wink before rising to her feet.

"Good luck out there, sweetie," she murmured, dropping a kiss to the crown of Elena's head.

As Jenna headed for the stairwell, Caroline felt that knot of wistfulness twist a little tighter. Only women directly related to the contestants were permitted up here for the primping process. The realization that her own mom's duties at the sheriff's office had prevented her from being a part of this special day made it lose some of its luster.

Yes, she'd dreamed of this moment since childhood. But everything felt oddly insignificant now in the grander context of the supernatural madness consuming Mystic Falls. Was winning this vapid crown really that important anymore?

Caroline turned back to the mirror, examining her reflection with a critical eye. Maybe a touch more blush to brighten up her cheeks...

Suddenly, a pair of soft hands covered her eyes from behind, unmistakably soft and carrying a familiar floral scent.

"Guess who?" The low, teasing voice was like a balm to Caroline's melancholy.

"Alexis!" She gasped in delight, spinning around to fling her arms around her soft yet firm form. She chuckled richly, squeezing her tightly before releasing her into the waiting embrace of her companion.

"Noah! What are you two doing here?" Caroline giggled, pulling back to beam at her oldest friends.

"Like we'd miss our favorite tiny blonde winning her crown," Noah scoffed, giving Caroline's shoulder a playful shove.

Her brows knit together as she glanced between them. "But how did you even get up here? Only direct family is allowed-"

Alexis waved a flawlessly manicured hand in airy dismissal. "Please, like a little rule like that could stop Noah when he turned on the charm."

"And we couldn't miss this momentous occasion," Alexis said, reaching out to affectionately tuck an errant curl behind Caroline's ear. "But I'm going to need you to shoo, Noah. A girl has to have some secrets when it comes to her pageant prep routine."

Noah raised his hands in mock surrender, lips curved into an amused smirk. "Say no more, I know when I'm outnumbered by all this feminine mystique."

He stepped forward to drop a kiss to Caroline's forehead. "Just don't go outshining me too much with that crown, Forbes. I prefer to be the hot one in this group."

Caroline rolled her eyes, but couldn't fight her grin as she swatted his chest. "As if that's even possible, Duncan. Now get out of here before I have you tossed by the pageant moms."

With one last wink, Noah turned on his heel and sauntered back toward the stairwell, looking entirely too at ease amidst the chaos of flying brushes and hairspray clouds. Once he'd disappeared down the steps, Alexis guided Caroline back in front of the brightly lit mirror.

"Alright, let's get you fully pageant-prepped, shall we?" Her voice took on a businesslike tone as she plucked up a makeup brush, spinning Caroline to face her reflection once more. "You're going to be an absolute vision when I'm through with you, darling."

Caroline felt her shoulders instinctively relax, the soothing balm of Alexis's familiarity calming her residual nerves about the competition ahead. She may not have direct family here today, but her chosen family had her covered.

Alexis's deft hands began meticulously sweeping bronzer along the enviable cheekbones she knew so well. "So... details, gorgeous. Who's this mysterious date you've been keeping so deliciously vague about?"

Chuckling under her breath, Caroline simply smiled contentedly and allowed Alexis's ministrations to work their magic. Her two friends by her side, everything else - even the looming specter of the supernatural - seemed to simply...melt away.

♤♤♤♤♤

Caroline smoothed her hands over the ruby-toned folds of her dress one last time before turning toward the door that led to the separate changing room. All the family members were told to go back downstairs, so she was on her own. A small frown tugged at her lips when she pushed it open to find Amber already inside, her face uncharacteristically pale.

"Hey, are you okay?" Caroline asked gently, moving further into the room.

Amber startled slightly at the sound of her voice, hands fluttering nervously at her sides. "I...yeah, I'm fine. I just..." She swallowed hard. "I hate being the center of attention like this. It gives me panic attacks sometimes."

Understanding washed over Caroline as she regarded the fellow blonde- of course the pressure of the pageant would be weighing heavily on someone prone to anxiety. "Then why did you sign up in the first place?"

Amber's shoulders lifted in a small shrug, her eyes skittering away. "I don't know, I thought maybe I could push through it this time. Get past the fear, you know?"

Caroline felt a pang for the other girl, recognizing the desperation to prove something to yourself - even when the odds felt insurmountable. She placed a reassuring hand on Amber's arm.

"Hey, do you need some privacy to change and have a minute? I can come back."

Sucking in a shuddery breath, Amber managed a tight smile and a nod. "Actually...I think I'm just gonna go get some air first. Clear my head."

"Absolutely, take all the time you need," Caroline murmured, squeezing her arm once more before Amber slipped past her out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

Now alone, Caroline turned toward the discreet changing room, unhooking her crimson gown's garment bag from where it had been stowed. The fabric beckoned to her like a siren song - today she would live her lifelong dream and be utterly herself.

As she turned to unzip the bag, movement in the mirror's reflection caught her eye. Caroline abruptly stilled, pulse kicking up a notch as she registered Damon's familiar form leaning insolently against the doorframe.

"Hey, you can't be back here," she hissed, clutching the dress protectively.

One dark brow quirked upwards as he blatantly swept his scorching gaze over her from head to toe. "Don't you look...good enough to eat."

Indignation swirled dizzyingly in her veins at his blatant innuendo. "You have to wait with the rest of the escorts," she insisted, fighting the flush attempting to stain her cheeks.

Damon pushed off the frame with languid, predatory grace, sauntering unhurriedly toward her. "Things are about to blow up with my brother." His tone was low, utterly devoid of inflection. "I need to talk to the duller version of my awful ex."

Caroline wet her lips unconsciously as he slowly invaded her space, the air thickening around them. "Does it have to be right now?"

His piercing blue eyes pinned her in place as easily as a butterfly to corkboard. "Stefan is losing it, Blondie. The human diet is getting to him...in a big way." There was a pregnant pause before he continued, voice dropping to a sinuous murmur. "I'm hoping that Elena might actually be useful for once."

The air seemed to thicken even further with unresolved tension as Damon slowly closed the remaining distance between them. Caroline felt her pulse kick up another dizzying notch when his cologne, rich with bergamot and cedarwood, enveloped her senses.

"Caroline? Damon?"

Elena's familiar voice sliced through the charged atmosphere like a hot knife. Caroline jumped slightly, whipping her head toward the interruption as Damon smoothly retreated a few calculated steps.

Elena hovered awkwardly in the open doorway, one hand still on the knob and the other clutching her garment bag. Her widened eyes ping-ponged between her friend and the vampire, clearly taking in their intimate proximity.

"What are you two doing? And why are you here, Damon?"

Damon's jaw tightened fractionally before he pivoted to face his brother's girlfriend, features rearranging into an expression of studied nonchalance.

"Normally I would have a completely different outlook on what I'm about to tell you," he began, tone laced with thinly veiled condescension. "But since it could seriously inconvenience me, I'll go ahead and squeal."

Elena's brows knit together in bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"

In lieu of a response, Damon's piercing stare bored into her as he allowed a calculated pause to stretch out between them. When he finally spoke, his voice was utterly devoid of inflection.

"Stefan's still drinking human blood."

A horrified silence fell over the room before Elena finally found her voice. "What?!"

Damon lifted one shoulder in an indolent shrug, utterly unaffected. "Yeah, would've been totally cause for celebration around a month ago. But with the Founders' Council back on high alert, it's really not an ideal time for Baby Bro to fly off into a ripper bender."

Caroline watched unease and anger war across Elena's features before the doppelganger lifted her chin with familiar self-righteousness.

"He told me the cravings were normal. That a little bit of edge was to be expected with him adjusting to the diet again."

"And you just...believed a vampire junkie cold-turkeying off his favorite beverage?" Caroline couldn't keep the derision from her voice.

Elena whipped around to face her, fire in her eyes. "And what else was I supposed to do, Care?"

"Not believe a junkie addicted to blood," the blonde let out.

"Especially when he becomes the worst version of himself," Damon's silky drawl cut through their confrontation like a knife.

All eyes snapped back to him as he leveled Elena with a look of patent contempt. "He's got a whole stolen fridge full of blood bags stashed at the house. Ask him about that little nugget of truth."

The muscle ticked tellingly in Elena's jaw as she processed his words. Caroline could practically see the younger girl's worldview shuddering under the weight of Damon's candor. Part of her couldn't help the tiny flare of vicious satisfaction - sometimes the unvarnished truth really did need to knock you on your ass.

Elena sank heavily onto the small sofa, the garment bag slipping from her grasp to pool at her feet. "Oh my god..."

Damon watched her impassively as the reality settled in. When he finally spoke, his voice dripped with caustic impatience.

"Stefan has no idea what 'normal' even is anymore. His entire existence isn't normal, Elena." He bit out her name like a curse. "Normal for a vampire is drinking human blood, but he spent all this time fighting that primal urge instead of learning to control it. And now?"

He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Now the human blood is controlling him instead of the other way around."

Elena's stricken gaze found Caroline's imploringly. "I can't believe this...I mean, it's Stefan we're talking about here."

Caroline leveled her with a flat look, utterly devoid of sympathy. "Oh my god, Elena, haven't we read Twilight together like a million times? It's only a matter of time before a tiny paper cut causes Stefan to completely lose his tenuous sense of control."

Damon's eyes blazed with something like vicious satisfaction as he watched the other girl crumble before him.

"Stefan. On human blood," he enunciated each word with razor-sharp precision. "He'll do anything, say anything because the cravings, the addiction - he's not going to want to stop it. Trust me."

His mouth curved in a devastatingly arrogant smirk as Elena flinched like she'd been struck.

"I'm intimately familiar with the all-consuming desires of my Ripper of a brother. You really think your pep talks and judgy frowns will be enough to make him see reason this time?"

Damon's scathing words seemed to rob Elena of the ability to speak. She could only gape at him, pale and stricken, as tears of despair began welling in her dark eyes.

"This is all my fault..." Elena's voice was little more than a tremulous whisper as she swiped angrily at the tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm the one who fed him the human blood in the first place."

Damon watched her impassively, seemingly unmoved by her anguish. Caroline, however, felt a pang of sympathy for her friend - no matter how frustrating Elena's naivety could be.

The heavy atmosphere was abruptly shattered by the sound of the door being open. All three startled as Stefan walked into the room, eyes wild but smiling.

"What's going on in here?" His tone was low, the smile not leaving his face.

Despite the scorching intensity of his stare, Damon didn't so much as flinch. In fact, his lips merely curved into a small, satisfied smirk.

"I was just filling Elena in on your...extra-curricular activities, brother."

Stefan laughed then - a laugh of denial that the blonde recognized. "What are you talking about?"

Before Damon could respond, Elena was on her feet, pale but determined as she lifted her chin to hold Stefan's gaze.

"I know about the blood, Stefan," she stated in a tone that brokered no argument. "The stolen blood banks, all of it."

Caroline felt the metaphorical temperature in the room plummet several degrees as Stefan's burning focus shifted to his girlfriend. She edged half a step closer to Damon's side without conscious thought.

There was a heavy pause as the two stared each other down, charged tension crackling between them like a livewire. Until finally, Stefan seemed to deflate all at once.

"Elena, I -"

"That's our cue to leave," Damon cut him off abruptly, voice pitched just loudly enough to be heard over the ringing silence. He cast a pointed look at Caroline, allowing the smirk to bleed back across his lips. "Let's go, Blondie."

Caroline barely had a chance to mouth a silent "good luck" in Elena's direction before Damon's hand was at her elbow, propelling her toward the exit as quickly as she could manage in her high-heeled shoes.

As the door closed behind them with a hollow thud, she couldn't shake the feeling that the other shoe was about to drop in a cataclysmic way.

♤♤♤♤♤

Caroline let out a shaky breath as Damon ushered her into the empty sitting room, shutting the door firmly behind them. "Is it really okay to just leave Elena with a ticking time bomb like that?"

Damon arched an unfazed brow. "My brother claims to love her for some inexplicable reason, so I'd say she's probably the least in danger." His lips curved in a disdainful sneer. "And even if I am wrong about that...who's really going to miss her anyway?"

"God, you're awful!" Caroline couldn't stop herself from swatting his arm, even as conflicted concern for her friend warred with reluctant amusement at his flippant candor.

Before Damon could respond with what was sure to be another infuriating quip, a brisk rapping against the door interrupted them. Caroline startled, but Damon simply leveled his signature smirk at the intruder as Carol Lockwood swept into the room.

"Caroline, we need to get you lined up. The processional is about to start," the woman stated in a tone that brokered no argument.

Anxiety spiked in Caroline's chest as she glanced down at her decidedly undressed state - clad in only a bright pink robe. "I just...I need one more minute, Mrs. Lockwood."

But Carol was already shaking her impeccably coiffed head, sweeping her sharp gaze over to Damon with obvious disdain changing to a flirtatious tone. "You're not even dressed yet? Escorts wait downstairs, Mr. Salvatore."

Without another word, she pivoted crisply on one heel and swept back out, leaving an awkward silence in her wake. Caroline couldn't quite meet Damon's eyes as she twisted the sash of her robe anxiously.

"With all this insanity, I completely forgot that I wasn't even fully dressed yet," she admitted in a small voice.

Damon's responding smirk was a catalyzed mixture of fondness and sin. "You're likely a shoo-in to win, even in this little pink number, Barbie," he purred, allowing his gaze an insolent sweep over her body. "Though I certainly wouldn't mind a private show beforehand..."

Caroline's eyes narrowed in a fierce glare, even as her traitorous skin flushed hot under the molten path of his stare. "Okay, your time is officially up, Salvatore. Get out and wait with the rest of the escorts like a good boy."

Throwing his hands up in mock surrender, Damon began backing toward the door, smirk firmly in place. "Alright, alright...I'm leaving, Miss Mystic Patience."

But Caroline's own mouth curved into a small grin at his teasing as she called after him. "You'd better not even think about ditching me, mister!"

His only response was a roguish wink before disappearing through the doorway. "Wouldn't dream of it, princess."

♤♤♤♤♤

The bathroom door slammed behind Stefan with enough force to rattle the mirror over the pedestal sink. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as he braced his hands on either side of the porcelain basin, shoulders tensed into a rigid line.

Elena's words echoed through his mind on a punishing loop. "I know about the blood...the stolen blood banks..." Her expression had been one of horrified accusation.

A guttural yell of rage tore from deep within Stefan's throat. His tendons stood out in harsh relief as his fingers curled into white-knuckled fists, spider-webbing the mirror with a dense network of cracks. The fragile glass soon shattered in an explosion of tinkling shards as his fist pounded through with brutal force.

Stefan barely registered the sting of lacerations, his entire body vibrating with scarcely-restrained fury as he struggled to regain his tenuous grip on control. The unmistakable metallic scent of blood suddenly bloomed in the small space.

"Oh god, sorry!"

Amber's awkward voice broke through the ringing silence. Stefan's head whipped around to find the girl lingering awkwardly in the open doorway, her hand clasped to her side.

There was a beat of weighted silence as Stefan's gaze landed on the human, the scent of her blood consuming him. Then, with a resonant crash of shattered porcelain and plaster, he propelled himself across the room toward her.

♤♤♤♤♤

The grand foyer of Founders' Hall was filled with an excited buzz as guests milled about, sipping flutes of champagne and chatting animatedly. At the base of the gently curving staircase, a small cluster of young men in suits stood alongside their assigned place as escorts.

Mayor Lockwood raised his hands, calling for everyone's attention. "Let me begin by welcoming you all to the annual Miss Mystic Falls!" A polite smattering of applause greeted his pronouncement. "Now, without further ado...Miss Tina Fell, escorted by Bartholomew Whitmore."

Tina descended the stairs with a brilliant smile, accepting Bartholomew's proffered arm as they joined the lineup. Carol Lockwood watched the proceedings proudly from her position at the foot of the stairs before turning back toward the pageant contestants lingering above.

"Has anyone seen Amber?" she called up, scanning the small group. "We're about to proceed."

Elena tore her anxious gaze away to look at her friend. "Do you see Stefan down there?"

Caroline leaned over the balustrade, but the sea of bodies obscured most of the foyer below. "Um...nope, I can't see Damo-My escort either."

Elena's brow furrowed. "What happened to Jeffrey?"

"Food poisoning, apparently," Caroline replied with a small grimace. "Wait, what do you mean about Stefan?"

Elena worried her lower lip between her teeth, gaze skittering away guiltily. "I don't know, he just...disappeared somewhere. I have no idea where he went." She shook her head, features creasing with distress. "God, what am I even doing here? I never should have gone through with this stupid pageant."

Caroline's brows hiked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

But Elena was already gathering the skirts of her gown, movements agitated. "I need to go find Stefan. This..." She waved a hand to indicate the production happening below. "This just isn't me anymore. I'm not that shallow, vapid girl."

"No, no, no way," Caroline cut her off firmly, grabbing her friend's arm to still her retreat. "You had plenty of chances to drop out, Elena. And believe me, I was all for it at first because there's no way I could have beat you."

She gentled her tone, searching Elena's conflicted gaze. "But you're doing this for your mom. Because it was important to her..."

Elena's shoulders slumped as the fight seemed to go out of her all at once. "I know," she whispered dejectedly. "I know... I just..."

She peered over the balcony's intricately carved railing, scanning the ballroom below for any sign of Stefan. Her boyfriend was nowhere to be found, but a different Salvatore brother had taken his place among the dapper escorts lining the staircase.

Damon. He must have realized Stefan was missing and decided to stand in, Elena mused. Her brow knitted - how incredibly...thoughtful of him?

Her internal musings were interrupted by the booming announcement from Mayor Lockwood.

"Miss Caroline Forbes, escorted by Mr. Damon Salvatore."

Elena's head whipped around in surprise as Caroline released an anxious breath and smoothed the satin fabric cascading in an elegant column over her svelte frame.

Caroline's eyes briefly met Elena's, a fleeting look passing between the two friends, before the blonde visionary moved towards the curved staircase.

The older Salvatore watched her descended the grand staircase in a stunning burgundy silk gown. The rich fabric skimmed over her curves in an elegant a-line silhouette, the delicate spaghetti straps and sweetheart neckline exuding timeless sophistication. As she floated down the stairs towards Damon, the dress's skirt cascaded behind her in a puddle of sumptuous color.

From his position on the stairs, he drank in the vision of her - his Barbie was utterly radiant in the rich, jewelstone hue that played up the creaminess of her complexio . The crimson hue made her porcelain skin glow and her blonde tresses shine like fragrant gardenias. The ruby teardrop pendant at her delicate throat seemed to blaze with an inner fire, mirroring the intense desire simmering in Damon's eyes.

Across the way, Carol Lockwood leaned in close to Elena, still waiting her turn on the balcony overlooking the festivities.

"You're next, dear," she murmured with an encouraging pat on Elena's arm. "Try to relax and enjoy this moment - your mother would be so proud."

Elena managed a tight smile and infinitesimal nod. Taking a steadying breath, she willed her features into a mask of serene grace yet she couldn't hide her panic as she prepared to take her turn gliding down those fatefully trodden steps.

Caroline felt herself floating forward in a daze, mesmerized by the way Damon drank her in with naked desire. The ruby pendant at her throat seemed to throb in time with her racing pulse.

As she descended the curving staircase, the other young women and their dates faded into the background. For that endless moment, it was just the two of them - the delicate Southern belle in her crimson gown, and the dangerously sexy vampire who looked at her like he wanted to devour her whole.

Below, the blonde had reached the landing, her radiant smile and upswept chignon exuding elegance. But it was the naked longing in Damon's eyes that truly stole the show as he drank in every exquisite detail of the breathtaking vision on his arm.

♤♤♤♤♤

Damon took Caroline's hand gallantly as she reached the final step, drinking in her vision of perfection one last time. Together they rejoined the other contestants and their dapper escorts waiting just outside the hall's entrance.

As Caroline and Damon passed by, two vaguely familiar figures lurked off to the side.

Alexis leaned in toward her companion with a conspiratorial look. "That's the guy from before, isn't it? The one who blatantly misled us?"

Noah gave an imperceptible nod, his camera aimed squarely at Caroline's radiant form as he recorded her grand entrance. "Yup, that's him alright. Had no idea he was Caroline's escort though."

"Huh, I didn't see that one coming," Alexis mused, scrutinizing Damon appraisingly. "But I have to admit, as unlikely a pair as they seem, they do look crazy good together."

Noah's eyebrows rose as he panned the camera over to linger on Damon, begrudgingly taking in the striking couple. "Yeah, I guess there's that. Even if the shady liar did intentionally send us down the totally wrong hallway."

♤♤♤♤♤

The midday sun beat down upon the asphalt, casting harsh shadows across the deserted parking lot where Stefan and Amber found themselves. Despite the brightness of the day, an air of tension hung heavy in the air, amplifying the urgency in Stefan's movements as he led Amber with a sense of purpose.

"Where are we going?" Amber's voice cut through the stillness, a note of apprehension underscoring her words as she followed Stefan's determined stride.

Stefan's response was clipped, his jaw clenched with an intensity that mirrored the inner turmoil raging within him. "I don't know," he confessed, his gaze flickering nervously around the exposed space, searching for a semblance of refuge from the harsh daylight.

Amber's brow furrowed in confusion as Stefan abruptly halted, his grip tightening on her arm as he pressed her against the sun-warmed metal of his car. The suddenness of his actions caught her off guard, and she instinctively recoiled under his touch. "I'm in the ceremony."

"Not now you're not," Stefan's voice held a steely edge, his words tinged with a hint of desperation as he compelled her, his eyes locking onto hers with an unwavering intensity. "You're standing in the parking lot with me."

"I'm in the parking lot with you," Amber's compliance was automatic, her voice lacking its previous vigor as Stefan's compulsion took hold.

Stefan's façade cracked under the weight of his inner turmoil, his vulnerability laid bare as he confided in the unwitting captive of Amber's compelled mind. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm not very good to be around right now, I'm a little bit on the edge."

The admission hung heavy in the air, a testament to the struggle he faced with the human blood coursing through his veins. The consequences of his actions loomed large, threatening to unravel the fragile peace he had fought so hard to maintain.

"She knows now," Stefan's words were laced with bitterness, his frustration palpable. "God! She wasn't supposed to find out, I didn't want her to find out, now everything's ruined."

Amber regarded him with a mixture of sympathy and apprehension, her gaze softening as she recognized the turmoil etched into his features. "You seem sad," she ventured tentatively, reaching out to offer him a lifeline amidst the storm that threatened to consume him.

Stefan's response was unexpected, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he dismissed her concern with a shake of his head. "I'm not sad," he scoffed, the mask of indifference slipping momentarily to reveal the hunger that gnawed at his insides. "I'm freaking hungry!"

♤♤♤♤♤

Elena fidgeted nervously on the balcony overlooking the illustrious Hall. The warm glow of crystal chandeliers and hum of stringed instruments drifted up from below, where a crowd of Mystic Falls's elite had gathered for the crowning jewel of the social season.

"Miss Elena Gilbert, escorted by Mr. Stefan Salvatore."

Mayor Lockwood's voice boomed out across the hushed ballroom. Elena's eyes quickly scanned the line of dapper escorts at the foot of the curved staircase, but her beloved Stefan was nowhere to be seen.

Panic seized her as the crowd began to murmur, necks craning to locate the missing Mr. Salvatore. Jenna and Alaric exchanged a worried look before Jenna's gaze landed urgently on Jeremy, slouched against the wall nearby with Anna.

"Jer!" she hissed, grabbing his arm and thrusting him toward Elena. "You need to escort your sister. Now!"

Jeremy's eyes widened in surprise, but he managed to straighten his rumpled suit and resultantly take position just as Elena turned to face him. Though her royal blue gown glittered, the tremulous smile she offered was brittle.

Mustering every ounce of poise, Elena walked towards her brother. As she began her slow, ceremonial procession down the top of candlelit staircase and into the watchful gaze of Mystic Falls's elite.

Though her smile strained to remain luminous, Elena's eyes anxiously scoured the crowd, silently pleading for Stefan to appear. Where could he be?

♤♤♤♤♤

Warm afternoon sunlight dappled the stunning grounds of the Founders estate, where a temporary parquet floor had been constructed for the Miss Mystic Falls dance. As the genteel tones of the string quartet filled the air, Caroline and Damon took their positions among the other couples.

Damon stepped forward, executing a flourishing bow. Caroline responded with a deep curtsy, the ruby at her decolletage glimmering. As she arose, their eyes met with electric intensity while maintaining a respectful distance.

Damon raised his right hand high, circling fully to the right as Caroline mirrored the motion with her left hand circling left. Then both raised their hands, turning in a full circle right before falling into the waltz.

They began to glide across the floor in perfect sync with the lilting meter of the waltz. Caroline's heart fluttered rapidly as Damon's azure gaze bored into her with a look of pure, unrestrained worship. His thumb caressed her hip possessively through the rich folds of her gown, igniting a feverish blush across her porcelain cheeks.

As the music swelled, Damon executed a dramatic twirl, allowing Caroline's skirt to blossom out in a small rippling circle. When he deftly pulled her body against his once more, her back arched as they moved in perfect synchronicity, writhing in an intoxicating rhythm.

There was an effortless intimacy to their dance, as if they had been made to waltz this eternal dance since the dawn of time itself. Damon's lips were parted, his eyes hungrily tracing every delicate detail of Caroline's flushed, ethereal beauty. In the hazy afternoon light, she was utterly spellbinding.

When at last the final, quivering notes faded away, they remained locked in their rapturous trance. Propriety be damned-in that endless moment, they belonged solely to each other in body and soul. Damon raised Caroline's hand to his lips, his hot breath caressing her wrist as he murmured something heated and inaudible to the enraptured crowd around them. As the other couples began to disband, Caroline's gaze drifted across the sun-dappled lawn toward her friend Elena.

Instead of Stefan leading her, Elena wore a strained smile on Jeremy's arm.

Frowning, Caroline murmured in Damon's ear, "Where is your brother?"

Damon's expression remained impassive, but a glint of knowing mystery filled his eyes. "I have no idea," he replied lowly.

In that endless afternoon interlude, there had only been room for their all-consuming desire. But now the outside world came crashing back with all its complications.

Still, as Caroline's anxious stare met Damon's smoldering gaze, she knew this single, transcendent dance had irrevocably altered her world's axis forever more.

♤♤♤♤♤

Stefan's words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his inner turmoil, as he grappled with the darkness that threatened to consume him. "I don't hurt people. I don't do that. I'm the good brother," he insisted, his voice tinged with a mix of conviction and desperation.

Amber's gaze bore into his. "Do you want to hurt me?" she dared to ask, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity. The compelsion in full swing.

Stefan's response was chilling, his eyes darkening with a hunger that belied his words. "I want to kill you," he confessed, his voice low and haunting. "I want to rip into your skin and I want to feed on your blood."

A shiver ran down Amber's spine as Stefan's touch trailed through her hair, his gaze fixated on the delicate curve of her neck. "Under your skin, pulsating, flowing," he murmured, his voice laced with a predatory edge.

His fingers grazed her neck, tracing the path of her carotid artery with a disturbing intimacy. "If you puncture this just right," he continued, his voice taking on a clinical tone, "you can control the blood flow. It takes practice but it doesn't have to make a mess, you don't have to waste any."

Amber's breath caught in her throat as the gravity of Stefan's words sank in, the reality of the danger she faced looming large in her mind. "What's stopping you?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Stefan's touch lingered on her face, his expression softened momentarily as he wrestled with his inner demons. "If I do this, if I give in, there's no going back," he admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his own mortality.

"Then don't," Amber said, the compelsion making her fearless.

Stefan's resolve wavered, his gaze flickering with uncertainty as he grappled with his insatiable hunger. "I just want one taste; that's all I need," he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. "I just want one taste."

His features contorted with primal hunger as his resolve crumbled, his face morphing into a visage of darkness as he finally succumbed to his primal instincts. "One taste," Amber echoed, her voice barely a whisper as Stefan's fangs sank into her flesh, the metallic tang of her blood filling the air as he drank deeply from her veins.

♤♤♤♤♤

The warm afternoon breeze carried the sweet scent of confederate jasmine as the pageant contestants assembled on the raised stage. Twinkling strings of gazebo lights cast a warm, dreamlike glow over their beautiful gowns and radiant smiles.

Caroline did a quick scan of the line beside her, immediately noting Amber Bradley's absence. She leaned over to Elena with a furrowed brow. "Where's Amber?"

Elena's painted lips pursed in concern as she too took stock of the empty space that should be occupied. "I don't know," she murmured back just as Mayor Lockwood took the microphone.

"Before I crown this year's winner, I'd like to offer a personal thank you to all of these accomplished young ladies for their tremendous efforts to better our community."

A smattering of polite applause rippled through the crowd gathered on the immaculate Estate grounds. Elena shot Caroline a reassuring smile and an encouraging squeeze of her hand as the mayor continued.

"So without further ado, it is my honor and privilege to announce our very own Miss Mystic Falls..." He opened the envelope with a dramatic flourish. "Miss Caroline Forbes!"

A stunned hush fell over Caroline as her name rang out across the museum grounds. Dimly, she registered the sounds of Noah and Alexis's raucous cheers and Bonnie's shrieks of joy. But it wasn't until Damon's striking face split into the most warm, adoring grin that the reality hit her full force.

She had actually won! After years of dreaming, scheming, and being constantly overshadowed, the coveted title of Miss Mystic Falls was finally, rightfully hers.

Breathless with shock and elation, Caroline stepped forward as the mayor draped the heavy velvet and silk banner over her shoulders. The delicate 'Miss Mystic Falls' embroidered on the pearl white fabric seemed to blaze with an inner light.

"Congratulations!" Elena pulled her into an exuberant embrace, squeezing tightly.

"I actually won," Caroline whispered in disbelief as the jubilant strains of the pageant's anthem began to swell around them.

In that eternal, shining moment, all the insecurities, feelings of unworthiness and desperation for validation fell away. She was Caroline Forbes - Miss Mystic Falls in all her glory, shining like the radiant star she knew she was always destined to be.

Catching Damon's reverent gaze from the crowd, Caroline positively glowed. This was her moment, and she had well and truly earned every second of it. And she would bask in her victory for as long as this perfect day would allow.

♤♤♤♤♤

John's gaze swept across the bathroom, his eyes narrowing as they landed on the telltale streaks of crimson staining the glass surface. "There is blood on the glass," he stated matter-of-factly, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency.

Sheriff Forbes's brow furrowed in concern as she followed John's gaze, her heart sinking at the sight of the ominous stains marring the pristine surface. "Get me Damon Salvatore," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument as she braced herself for the impending chaos that threatened to unravel within the tranquil confines of their small town once again.

♤♤♤♤♤

The triumphant swell of the pageant march surrounded Caroline in a warm embrace as she basked in her newly crowned glory. With the heavy silk banner draped regally over her shoulders, she descended the stage steps into the smattering of applause from the crowd.

Noah and Alexis were among the first to greet her, their faces split into wide, beaming grins as they rushed forward. In an uncharacteristic show of unbridled joy, Caroline threw her arms around her two friends and pulled them into a tight group hug, mindful not to crease her perfectly coiffed chignon.

"See? We told you that you would win!" Noah crowed triumphantly as they separated, his eyes shining with pride for their Miss Mystic Falls.

Caroline felt a blissful laugh bubbling up from her core, echoing across the pristine Lockwood grounds. Just a couple of years ago, she never could have imagined sharing this moment with anyone other than her longtime Mystic Falls puppy crew. But now Noah and Alexis - part from the newer yet better friendgroup from McKinley - got to bear witness to the shining culmination of her life's efforts.

"You really did," she acknowledged, giving Noah's arm an affectionate squeeze. "I can't believe it, but you guys actually had more faith in me than I did!"

Alexis looped her arm through Caroline's in a sisterly display of support. "Are you kidding? This crown was written in the stars for you, Care. We both knew it was only a matter of time before this town recognized what a total queen you really are."

Warmth bloomed across Caroline's cheeks at her friends' steadfast confidence. Their unwavering belief buoyed her through all the years of self-doubt and feeling inadequate amongst Mystic Falls' seemingly perfect founding families.

As Noah joked animatedly about selling t-shirts emblazoned with Caroline's pageant headshot, she allowed her sparkling gaze to drift over to where Damon stood watching her with unabashed smugness. Her breath caught in her throat.

♤♤♤♤♤

Damon watched the heartwarming scene unfold with an inscrutable look on his chiseled features. Caroline was positively radiant, awash in the bright glow of her hard-earned victory and the adulation of...those strangers he had deflected earlier.

So they weren't total randos after all, he mused with mild surprise. Apparently they were Caroline's friends, celebrating and basking in her crowning achievement right alongside the usual Mystic Falls elite.

A slight crease furrowed his brow as Damon observed Caroline hugging the older man - with perhaps a touch more familiarity and ease than he had expected. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly as an inexplicable flare of protectiveness ignited in his chest.

Before he could dwell further on the unwelcome pang of jealousy, Caroline seemed to sense his burning stare. Her radiant face turned in his direction, those soft golden curls framing her delicate features as a secret smile played across her lips. Damon felt his breath hitch in his throat as their locked gazed across the crowded Founder's grounds.

Suddenly, feeling very much like an intruder on this intimate celebration, Damon forced his feet into motion, threading his way through the throngs of well-wishers. As he grew closer, Caroline's eyes never left his, holding him in an ethereal trance.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your date?" Alexis prompted with a sly grin as Damon approached.

Caroline hesitated briefly, not wanting to pull her friends from McKinley into the complicated supernatural drama that seemed to follow Damon everywhere in Mystic Falls. Looping her arm through his unconsciously, she replied, "Noah, Alexis - this is Damon Salvatore. My escort for today's pageant...he just moved here a few months ago with his brother."

As Damon shook their hands, Noah's eyes narrowed slightly in recognition. "So you're the bloke who intentionally sent us the wrong way earlier when we asked about the dressing rooms."

"My apologies," Damon said easily, though a hint of steel flashed in his pale eyes. "Strangers aren't allowed in the staging areas. I didn't realize you two knew Caroline."

He pulled her fractionally closer against his side in an unmistakably possessive gesture. Caroline shot him a reproachful look from beneath her lashes, silently chastising his overbearing protectiveness.

Noah held up his hands in a placating gesture. "No need to get territorial, mate. We're just proud supporters of our Miss Mystic Falls here." He shot Caroline an admiring wink.

Damon's arm relaxed around Caroline's waist as he allowed himself to simply bask in the animated conversation. While she understood his instinct to shield her from threats (which she was now used to), keeping Noah and Alexis at arm's length seemed unnecessary.

Though her confusion over the nuances of her relationship with Damon persisted, in this triumphant moment of celebration, all that mattered was reveling in the glory she had valiantly claimed. She was snapped out of her thoughts when a familiar figure caught her eye.

Elena made a beeline straight for their group, her painted smile looking somewhat strained. As her gaze landed squarely on Damon, Caroline felt him go rigid beside her. That's when she remembered - Stefan had vanished before the ceremony, leaving Elena to be escorted by Jeremy instead.

No doubt Elena intended to interrogate Damon about his brother's puzzling absence. Caroline opened her mouth, ready to try and diffuse the situation with a friendly greeting. But before she could get a single syllable out, Damon leaned in close.

"Stay here with your friends," he murmured under his breath. "I'll handle this."

His tone made it clear "this" referred to Elena and the inevitable entanglement surrounding Stefan's disappearance. While Caroline desperately wished to remain blissfully removed from such drama on her crowning day, she knew that was unlikely. Squaring her shoulders, she pasted on her brightest smile as Elena grew nearer.

But Damon didn't give Elena a chance to actually reach their group. Moving with the same silent lethality as a panther, he smoothly positioned himself in Elena's path, not even sparing her a cursory greeting.

"If you'll excuse us," he stated flatly, his chiseled jaw tightly clenched as displeasure etched deep lines around his mouth.

Without waiting for a response, Damon gripped Elena's elbow in an iron grasp and began steering her away from the celebration, putting decisive distance between the sullen doppelganger and Caroline's shining moment.

Elena opened her mouth - to protest or question him, Caroline wasn't sure. But Damon silenced her with a single, weighted look thrown over his shoulder that conveyed the clear intention to quarantine this fresh drama away from the radiant Miss Mystic Falls's crowning glory.

♤♤♤♤♤

With a fresh flute of champagne in hand, Caroline turned back to Noah and Alexis, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I can't tell you how much it means to me that you two came all this way," she said, her tone warm with affection. "I only wish you could have stayed longer."

Noah draped one long arm casually across Alexis's shoulders as they shared a look heavy with remorse.

"You know we wanted nothing more than to be here for every second of your big day, Care," Noah replied, his rich accent thick with sincerity. "But duty calls, I'm afraid."

Alexis nodded, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. "We've got some paperwork to get squared away back in McKinley before we can kick off our next big project."

A spark of intrigue lit up Caroline's eyes at that cryptic tease. "Oh? Do tell, you know I live for juicy details!"

"Sorry, lips are sealed for now." Noah flashed that roguish grin of his. "But let's just say we have one hell of a surprise in store for you very soon, Miss Forbes. You're going to love it."

Curiosity thoroughly piqued, Caroline opened her mouth to protest, to demand they spill whatever delicious secret they were sitting on. But Alexis was already pulling her into a tight, fierce embrace.

"You earned every second of today's glory, Caroline Forbes," she murmured in her ear. "We'll be back to celebrate with you properly before you know it."

Noah swept Caroline up in an equally ardent hug, punctuating it with a loud smack of a kiss against her cheek. "Don't have too much fun conquering Mystic Falls without us, yeah?"

"I make no promises," Caroline laughed, giving them each one final squeeze before reluctantly releasing them.

With final congratulatory backwards glances and blown kisses, Noah and Alexis turned to make their way through the crowd and off the pristine Founders grounds. Caroline watched them go with a conflicting mixture of melancholy and excitement over whatever surprise her dear friends had in the works.

She was so absorbed in wondering what adventures awaited that she didn't immediately notice Damon's approach until he was nearly upon her. When she turned to greet him, her breath caught in her throat at his disheveled appearance.

His crisp tuxedo jacket was bunched and creased, the emerald tie hanging askew. But it was the faint smattering of dirt along one sharp cheekbone and the stormy intensity flickering behind his azure gaze that truly gave Caroline pause.

"Good god, what happened to you?" she couldn't help but ask as Damon drew nearer, the smoldering embers of some inner turmoil burning bright in his eyes.

"What hasn't happened would be the better question," he said dryly, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to release some of the pent-up tension.

Caroline's brow furrowed with concern. "Did you find Stefan?"

Damon's mouth pressed into a grim line as he gave a curt nod. "Alright, so picture this: Elena's freaking out because Saint Stefan is MIA, and I had found signs of a struggle and blood in the upstairs bathroom before the pageant began. That Amber's nowhere to be found."

He paused, allowing that to sink in before continuing with a sardonic quirk of his brow. "So naturally, we go searching the grounds, and boom - we stumble upon Stefan with a very human, very vulnerable Amber. He's about to take a bite out of her again when we burst in."

Caroline's hand flew to her mouth in horror. "Oh my god..."

"Yeah, it was a real party," Damon said flatly. "Elena's screaming bloody murder, I'm trying to talk Stefan down off his ripper-binge, Bonnie's flinging aneurysm spells left and right. Just...chaos."

He shook his head, a muscle ticking in his taut jaw as the memories clearly overwhelmed him again.

"Seriously, that sounds horrifying," Caroline whispered, aghast. "How did you even manage to handle it all?"

Damon gritted his teeth, his expression darkening. "Barely. With Elena screeching in my ear the whole damn time about how 'Stefan would never hurt Amber' and 'this isn't him.'"

His voice dripped with sarcasm as he made air-quotes. "But eventually, once Amber was...well fainted, let's just say she won't be returning to any pageant. Stefan snapped back to his senses and bolted, leaving me to clean up his grotesque mess."

"You must have been at your wit's end," Caroline murmured, reaching out to place a soothing hand on his arm.

Damon let out a mirthless chuckle. "You have no idea. And to top it all off, I had to wait for the cops to cover up for Saint Stefan's latest mess."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly as he reined in his anger. "Your mom bought the story, thank god. Last thing I need is Liz Forbes raiding my sock drawer for hidden victims."

Caroline's perfectly arched brows shot up. "This is insane. She's supposed to be the Sheriff - how could she be so gullible?" Her eyes narrowed as she studied Damon more closely. "Wait, is that why your suit is so rumpled? Did something else happen?"

He exhaled a rueful chuckle as he raked a hand through his inky locks. "Oh, you mean besides Stefan deciding it would be a brilliant idea to throw me against a tree trunk mid-rampage?" He gestured to the scuffs and dirt marring the fine material with a wry smirk. "Lucky for me, I've got a thick skull. Stung like a bitch, but at least I managed to keep all my pretty hair intact."

In spite of the disturbing situation, Caroline couldn't stifle a peal of laughter at his cavalier tone. Leave it to Damon to make light of nearly being impaled on a tree branch. "Well, can't say I'm too torn up about missing out on that delightful bonding experience with your brother," she quipped dryly.

Damon's gaze heated as it raked over her appreciatively. "Trust me, Blondie, the only intimate bonding I'm interested in involves a lot less clothing and significantly more-"

"Damon!" Caroline's scandalized tone was thoroughly unconvincing given the sparks of amusement dancing in her eyes. She swatted his arm in playful remonstrance. "Keep it PG, would you? We're in public."

"PG-rated is no fun," Damon countered with an unrepentant wink. His expression sobered then as the reality of the day's events seemed to catch up with him again. "In all seriousness, tonight was...a mess. A bloody, tangled, confusing mess."

♤♤♤♤♤

As Damon and Caroline made their way towards the wrought iron gates of the Salvatore boarding house, Damon juggled Caroline's duffel bags while she teetered slightly in her towering heels. A sly grin tugged at his lips as he not-so-subtly admired the gentle sway of her hips.

"See something you like, Salvatore?" she teased over her shoulder, her tone laced with flirtation.

Damon's grin widened into a full-blown smirk. "Always, Forbes. These eyes were made to appreciate true beauty."

Caroline scoffed but couldn't quite disguise her pleased smile as they approached the front door. Without warning, Damon dropped the bags and placed himself squarely in front of Caroline, his entire body tensing.

"All right, this is getting weird," he muttered, eyes narrowing at the slight figures waiting on the doorstep.

Caroline peered around him, frowning at the young woman with large, soulful eyes. "And creepy."

The girl inclined her head politely. "We're here to talk."

Another woman emerged from the shadows then, her aristocratic features both regal and disarmingly beautiful despite her casual attire. Damon instinctively pushed Caroline further behind him, his free hand curling into a fist.

"Not in the mood for visitors," he bit out.

The elegant woman held up one placating hand, her expression earnest. "Annabelle tells me you're looking for something I took from Jonathan Gilbert."

Caroline's eyes widened in recognition, remembering the enigmatic device John Gilbert had been pursuing. She placed a calming hand on his forearm, feeling the rigid tension thrumming beneath his muscles.

Damon gave a curt nod, his stance still coiled like a panther ready to strike. "I'm listening."

In one graceful motion, the woman extracted a strange, antiqued contraption from her satchel and extended it towards him. Caroline leaned around Damon's broad shoulders for a better look as he snatched it from her grasp, examining it with obvious bewilderment.

"What is it?"

Damon shot her a quizzical frown before turning it over in his palm. "Looks pretty ordinary to me."

"Jonathan was passionate about his inventions," the woman explained patiently. "He confided in me that he had created a detection device meant to track down the town's vampire element."

Understanding bloomed in Damon's glacial eyes. "It was a pocket watch..."

The woman inclined her head. "That's what it turned out to be, yes. But that's not what I stole." Her gaze turned inward, as if revisiting a distant memory. "I discovered my mistake when I saw the watch in Jonathan's hand the night they took us...its dial pointed at me."

An ominous chill slithered down Caroline's spine at the implications. A device that can find vampires?

Damon's stormy eyes narrowed to slits as he leveled an assessing gaze at the strange device again. "So what is this?"

The woman spread her palms in a helpless gesture. "I have no idea. But now it's yours."

Wariness flickered over the blonde's delicate features as she eyed their uninvited guests with unveiled suspicion. "What's the catch?"

"There is no catch," the woman said simply. "My daughter wants to stay here. I want to stay here." Her expression turned plaintive, tinged with remorse. "You refused to trust us...and for good reason. Consider this an apology."

An uneasy silence hung in the humid night air, thick with unspoken tension. Caroline's perfectly manicured nails dug into Damon's arm as they stared at the unlikely duo on the porch. With a barely perceptible nod, Damon pivoted on his heel, tucking Caroline under his arm as they made their way inside, leaving the strange women and her daughter behind without a backward glance.

♤♤♤♤♤

The tense silence outside Stefan's bedroom door was nearly suffocating as Damon and Caroline waited with bated breath, the muffled raised voices within making Caroline's stomach knot with dread. The plan had been for Elena to try and vervain Stefan, to subdue him before his blood addiction spiraled further out of control - but now that it was in motion, Caroline found her resolve wavering.

"Should we help her?" she whispered anxiously, her blue eyes wide as they met Damon's.

Damon shook his head, his expression unflinchingly calm despite the chaos ensuing on the other side of the door. "Nope. If she sees a future with my brother, she should be able to handle this, Blondie."

The sudden explosive roar of Stefan's voice made them both start. "STOP SAYING THAT!"

Caroline flinched at the raw intensity, instinctively gripping Damon's arm as her heart hammered. She exchanged a troubled look with the raven-haired vampire, her concern for Elena palpable.

"STOP!" Stefan bellowed again, the ferocity of his tone laced with an unnatural, feral edge that raised the hairs on the back of Caroline's neck.

An eerie, weighted pause followed, and then Stefan's defeated voice sliced through the quiet, softer but no less anguished. "I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay," Elena's gentle tones could be heard, doing little to soothe Caroline's growing trepidation. "It's okay."

A strangled noise, almost a sob, seemed to tear from Stefan's throat. "I don't know what's happening to me!"

"It's okay, Stefan," Elena murmured, her words laced with sadness and reassurance. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

Caroline's teeth dug into her bottom lip, her chest constricting painfully as her gaze remained locked on the door. She looked up at Damon imploringly, silently pleading for him to intervene, but he simply stared back at her, impassive.

The sudden thump of a body hitting the floor made them both start. Caroline's hand flew to her mouth to stifle her gasp as Damon swung the door open, striding inside without preamble.

Elena stood in the middle of the room, the vervain dart clutched in her trembling hand as Stefan's unmoving form lay crumpled at her feet. Dazed, she looked up at Damon and then Caroline, her reddened eyes brimming with a kaleidoscope of turbulent emotions.

Damon arched an eyebrow at Elena as she stared down at her fallen boyfriend. "You sure you want to do this?" His tone was deceptively casual, but Caroline could hear the underlying hint of concern.

Elena's dark eyes flickered up, shining with a conflicting storm of emotions. "I'm sure," she stated, her voice low but resolute. She couldn't back down now.

The three ventured in solemn silence down to the Boarding House's musty cellar, the weight of their burden made physical in Stefan's unconscious form. Damon unlocked the heavy door to the underground cell, and together they carefully maneuvered Stefan inside and onto the cot.

With a weary exhale, Damon secured the door, the clang of the bolt sliding into place sounding like a death knell. He turned to face Elena, his expression uncharacteristically somber.

"There's no guarantee this is going to work, you know."

Elena lifted her chin a fraction, her shoulders squaring. "It has to."

An uneasy silence fell, thick and suffocating in the cramped space. Caroline's throat felt constricted as she watched Damon head for the exit, casting her a meaningful look. She swallowed hard and gave a small nod of understanding.

Hovering uncertainly in the cell's entrance, Caroline turned back to Elena. "Coming?"

But Elena had already folded herself to the damp floor, resting her back against the chill stone wall directly across from the barred door. Her arms hugged her knees to her chest as her hollow, haunted gaze bored unblinkingly at Stefan's motionless form.

"I'm gonna stay here," she said simply.

Empathy twinged in Caroline's chest as she watched her friend, recognizing the guilt and anguish carved into the tense lines of her body. She hesitated a moment longer before feeling Damon's gentle but insistent tug on her hand.

With one final glance at Elena's wan profile, illuminated in the shadowy basement by nothing more than a low-burning lantern, Caroline exhaled a shuddering breath and allowed Damon to lead her away, leaving her friend to keep vigil over the vampire who had once again spun dangerously out of control.

___________________________________

A/N: So that is it for this chapter...

This was going to be weekend upload but it got pushed back with my birthday celebrations.

2 more chapters to go for season 1 to end. I am excited to start in the next season so I can go off canon 😌

The majority went with the 2nd option so that was chosen for Caroline's Miss Mystic Falls dress. How did you like the aesthetic I made for it?

Anyway, what did you think of this chapter?

What did you think of the gift 🎁😉?

How did you like Noah and Alexis coming to support Caroline?

What you think should happen to Stefan?

Let me know your thoughts and opinions ✨️

Until next time 👋🏻

✍️🏼✍️🏼✍️🏼