THE HOWLING.
13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN : you forgot about the shadows that'd follow
"What time did you get home last night?" asked Carol upon seeing Rowan propped up at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in front of her slowly cooling. Rowan didn't answer. "Okay, let me rephrase that. Why did you get home nearly an hour past curfew?"
"Are you going to keep using your 'mom voice' if I keep ignoring you?" Rowan asked flatly. She finally looked up at her mother's arched eyebrow and hand on her hip. She sighed. "My walk home took a little longer than expected."
"I've seen you leave a room, literally in the blink of an eye," Carol retorted. "What happened?"
Rowan looked down at the table. Her walk with Klaus was surprisingly pleasant. They didn't speak much, just walked, stepping in sync. And when he led her to her front door, where Rowan had a thought cross her mind about him kissing her, all he did was smile, bid her well, and leave.
"There's a murderer out there, mostly targeting the council, so when I set a curfew I expect you to be here on time!" Carol continued ranting.
Rowan suppressed an eye roll. "I can protect myself. And, besides, everyone who's been killed, they've all been human, therefore, it's most likely a human doing the killing. The guy, or girl, if they come at me, it'll be easy to put them down."
"I'd rather not have my daughter talk about murdering people at the kitchen counter."
"Is it really considered murder if they person you kill is a murderer?"
Carol didn't even try to suppress her own eye roll. "I believe so." She gathered her bag and keys. "Don't forget about the event today at the bridge. I need you to be there since your brother isn't here."
"Ah, yes. Keeping up the family front even though half of us are either gone or dead," Rowan drawled out. Her head slumped, and her chin nearly touched her chest. Carol stared at her daughter for a second, about to respond, but a car horn sounded from outside. "I do believe that's your ride," the young werewolf mused, placing her mug in the sink and walking out of the kitchen.
Behind her, Carol gathered the rest of her things, calling out a, "Don't be late," before walking out of the door.
Rowan's sock clad feet patted up the steps as she strolled toward her room. She stared at her wardrobe blankly before finally opening it up, and getting ready for the day. As she walked to and from her bathroom and wardrobe, her eyes slipped over the mirror. Tyler used to tease her of being conceded because every time she would pass by her reflection, she would look into it. But it wasn't because she was conceded, it was because, day and day, she would feel different. Like an unexplainable weirdness, and she needed some sort of proof that she was actually standing on her feet. That weirdness was creeping back slowly.
Sighing, she took one last glance in the glass and made her way out of the house and to the Wickery Creek Bridge.
Once Rowan stepped out of her car, reporters were already beginning to take flashing photos as her mom walked toward her. Forcing a smile on her face, Rowan stood next to the mayor and posed in the fashion of a good daughter.
A few hours passed with more interviews with reporters from the newspaper, and Rowan had gotten texts from everyone on their plans. She shook her head at Damon's. Basically an excuse for him to get laid. The sun had went down before her phone dinged with a message from Elena asking if she could help Meredith watch over the accidental psycho murderer Alaric. Now, having an excuse, Rowan couldn't have left any faster.
Parking out in front of the Gilbert residence, Rowan locked her doors, and took the doorsteps two at a time. She knocked twice before Meredith opened the door and gestured for her to come inside.
"How has he been?" Rowan asked, shedding her coat. She followed Meredith into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of a sleeping Alaric.
"As far as I know, he's been good. Nothing to out of the ordinary," the Fell said.
Rowan sighed and sat down. "So this is actually happening? The Gilbert ring caused all of this?"
Meredith nodded. "A person can only cheat death so many times."
"Trust me," Rowan mused, "I know."
A silence formed, aside from the occasional snore from Alaric that made Meredith giggle. "Still with me?" she asked Alaric.
Rowan smiled half heartedly when Alaric groggily replied, "yeah, yeah. I'm still with you."
"I'm half dead too," Meredith told him. Neither one of us has slept in two days."
Rowan stood from her chair. "I'll put some coffee on," she announced.
"Rowan?" Alaric questioned as he stood. "When'd you get here?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, "like ten minutes ago." Rowan watched as Meredith opened cabinet after cabinet, sighing after every one she closed. Putting her out of her misery, Rowan opened the cabinet nearest the coffee maker.
"What are you two doing?" Alaric asked as he walked further into the room.
"She's bragging because I have no idea where anything is in this house," Meredith deadpanned as Rowan snorted. Meredith reached for the creamer before hesitating and looking at Alaric sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I can't remember. Do you take cream?"
"No cream," he told her.
Meredith looked at Rowan. "Same. Black. Mason said it built character. Now I can't drink it any other way." Meredith jokingly gagged as she poured a cup, and handed it to Rowan.
"I was going to make sandwiches. I'm starving."
"If you want, I could go pick something up," Rowan offered.
Meredith waved her off. "No, it's late. Plus, I'm pretty sure I saw some meat in the fridge." Rowan nodded and went to gather it whilst Alaric watched the two curiously.
"Can I ask you a question?" he wondered aloud.
"No mustard," Meredith announced. Rowan slowly put the yellow bottle back on the shelf. "I hate mustard."
"Do you ever feel remorse?" Alaric asked. Rowan's hand floated over the ham hesitantly before she shut the refrigerator doors, hands empty. She stared at Ric as he stared at Meredith.
"Sorry?"
"Well." Rowan grew tense as Alaric grabbed a knife from the counter. "You are a council member and the Council was formed to protect the people of this town from vampires. Yet here you all are just looking the other way and ignoring your responsibilities." He met Rowan's eyes, and she knew this wasn't Alaric. This was something dark festering through his mind. "Like you and your vampire blood, and you," he pointed the knife at Rowan, "you're supposed to protect humans against these monsters, and now you starting to have feelings for one of the most monstrous. So I'm asking you, both of you, do you ever feel remorse? Because you should."
Rowan swallowed hard. "Meredith, run," she told her. Just as the words left her mouth, Alaric pounced. The knife sliced through the air and narrowly missed Meredith. Rowan gripped Alaric's arm that was holding the knife, shouting, once again to run. She pushed the older man back, causing him to fall. Her eyes turn their fluorescent yellow as she growled at the man she thought to be a friend. He was back up quickly, swinging the knife expertly, slashing across Rowan's stomach, making her cry out.
With a desperate push, Rowan sprinted up the stairs, taken by surprise when Alaric grabbed her foot, pulling her back down. Every movement made her body scream, and her legs flailed as she kicked at him, landing an effective foot in his stomach making him fall back. Getting back up, Rowan dashed for an the door Meredith was holding open, and she made it in before Meredith shut and locked the door.
"Oh my god," Meredith whispered as she watched the blood pour from Rowan's wound.
"Don't worry," the Lockwood grunted, "I'll heal."
"Well, you're not healing now!" Meredith shouted. Both women flinched when Alaric continued beating on the door. But then it stopped, and another silence grew. "Rowan," Meredith whispered. She lightly slapped Rowan's pale face. Grabbing towels, Meredith applied pressure to help stop the bleeding, but it only bled through. "Why aren't you healing?" she asked as if the unconscious girl could answer.
Meredith inhaled sharply when she heard Elena and Alaric talking, her fear of what he would do to her overwhelming. "Okay, Rowan," she continued cooing to her and applying the pressure. Meredith's stress grew as footsteps ascended the stairs. And she screamed when the door burst open.
Stefan and Elena looked in horror of the bathroom covered in the blood, and their friend lying seemingly dead in the puddle.
"She's not healing and I ‒ I don't ‒" Meredith stuttered.
"Oh my god," Elena whispered, crouching down next to Rowan. She looked at the wound with wide eyes. But when she looked at Stefan, her eyes grew wider as veins formed around his. He stared at Rowan like she was his prey, but then the veins disappeared as he knelt down and lifted her from the floor.
"Get supplies," he said, trying his best to ignore the blood on inches from him. "If she's not healing we'll have to help her."
"Can't you just give her blood?" Meredith asked, gathering towels, alcohol, whatever they needed.
"She wouldn't want that," Elena told her, following them into the guest room. Stefan carefully laid Rowan on the bed before he sped from the room, and since Meredith had a moment to catch her breath, she immediately went into action. Elena pulled a chair to the side of the bed and clasped her hand to Rowan's.
"We should call someone, let them know what happened." Elena nodded along to Meredith's words as she pulled out her phone.
☾
"Should we take her home?" asked a voice.
"She's barely even healed since last night. If anything, she's gotten worse. I don't even know if we should move her," said another.
"Bonnie may be able to help, some kind of spell."
"No, it's not that she can't heal. She's not letting herself. Whatever Ric said must've gotten in her head."
The voices made her head hurt and she squeezed her eyes shut. "For christ's sake, just take me to the boarding house," she snapped groggily. "I'd rather ruin Damon's sheets that these."
"Hey," Elena said. Rowan opened her eyes and met her eyes. "How do you feel?"
"Like death," Rowan groaned. Her face twisted as she tried to sit up.
"I think you should go home, get in your own bed."
Rowan shook her head. "No, I'll be fine at the Salvatore's. I'll tell my mom I'm here, and be there. Best for her not to know what happened until I'm healed."
"Rowan ‒" Elena tried to stop her from sitting up.
"I'm fine. I'll heal," she snapped as she struggled to stand. "Sometimes it just takes a little longer is all."
Elena and Bonnie nodded against their better judgement and spotted Rowan as she stood.
It wasn't long until Rowan was in the backseat of Elena's car, the two of the them on the way to the boarding house. When they arrived, Elena helped her to the door, but then had to leave, and Rowan opened the old door, wincing at the creak.
"You smell like death," Damon deadpanned once she was in the room. Rowan rolled her eyes.
"Shut up." Damon smirked as Rowan weakly made her way to the couch. "I may need one of you to carry me to bed." If possible Damon's smirk widened. "Not you," Rowan said pointedly to him. "I trust Stefan enough to do it without eating me." Rowan caught the younger Salvatore's eyes, and she nodded, "he's earned it."
"Well, maybe I won't tell you what I found," Damon snarked. His pout almost childlike. Rowan stared at him unamused. "Fine." With her darker that usual brown irises, Rowan watched as Damon picked up a sign from beside him. "Wood from the White Oak tree Rebekah believed she burned."
"So you're saying," Rowan said, "you're saying we can kill them. We can kill all of them."
‒ unedited, what of it?