"Damon?" I called, banging my fist violently against the large wooden door. "Damon, let me in!"
Just as I pushed out my fist to knock the door again, Damon appeared before me, and my fist brutally made contact with his nose. He toppled backwards, landing in a haphazard heap on the floor. I found it hard to supress laughter at the very sight of him laying there, but I felt the need to be courteous, so I managed not to let even the faintest of giggles escape from the small gap between my lips.
"I'm so sorry!" I gasped once the need to laugh had completely dissipated. "Do you want me to help you up or anything?"
This, of course, was an utterly pointless question, as Damon was on his feet in an instant, his hand pressing into my throat. This time I didn't hold back my snigger.
"Why the long face?" I choked, now struggling for breath. I delicately lifted one of my hands up and tugged his palm away from my wind pipe. I took in a deep breath before pushing past him and walking into the heated comfort of the Salvatore house.
"Lizzie?" a female voice called. I followed the voice into the living room, where Stefan and Elena were curled up in the small arm chair. Stefan was staring down at the phone is his hand, obviously texting someone. Elena was looking at me with wide, child-like eyes. A smile hovered on her pinched mouth.
"Did you call me?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yeah," Elena sighed, resting her chin on her folded arms. "I just wanted to ask you something."
"And that is...?"
"I was wondering if we could make amends," she said timidly. "I mean, we've both been through more than we can handle, and it would be nice if we could start over."
I was desperately longing to snap back at her and refuse her request. After all, why should I? Yes, we've both been through a lot, but that's completely irrelevant. My loathing for her had pretty much been nudged out of the picture until half a minute ago.
"That wasn't a question," I stated through gritted teeth. "That was a thought. Or a statement. Or whatever you prefer to call it. But it is most definitely not a thought."
"Lizzie," Damon growled, his hot breath making the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. His arms around my waist possessively. "Be nice, please. Miss Gilbert is only trying to be civil about all of this. There's no need to throw it back in her face." The sarcasm in his voice made me wince slightly. "Though a taste of her own medicine wouldn't be too harsh," he added to himself.
"There's hardly time to be civil," I spat, clenching my fists around Damon's arms. "Does the name Klaus ring a bell?"
The room fell silent and tension vibrated through the atmosphere. Damon's arms were like rock around my waist - this was the first time he'd seemingly taken something seriously. Stefan's eyes had moved from his phone screen to my face, his emerald green irises swimming with disbelief.
Elena, however, had her eyes on Damon. I turned my head to look up at the statue-like man holding me, and realised that he and Elena were locked in a worried gaze. Then I realised that they seemed fearful for one another.
Ugh - all of the romantic crap in my life had a habbit of making me feel thoroughly repulsed. I mean, the fact that I myself had been in many intense relationships didn't help the matter. However, the look Elena and Damon were currently sharing was wrong on so many levels.
Elena was with Stefan. Correction; Elena was in a serious relationship with Stefan Salvatore. And then there's Damon. My boyfriend Damon. Damon Salvatore, the malicious vampire who could never truly stop drinking - whether the consumed liquid be Bourbon or blood. It just doesn't make sense.
It turned out that I was the one who had to break the never-ending silence. "So, the name doesn't ring a bell? None of you have ever met Klaus?"
Stefan nodded, gulping. "Uh, yeah. We, uh, know Klaus. But, uh, how do you know him?"
"He decided to kidnap me," I said as if that fact was obvious. "Told me a bit about himself. Then he informed me of the big shocker. Gilbert?"
"Yes?" Elena stopped looking at Damon and turned to me.
"He wants you. Something to do with a witchy ritual thing. Let me know if I say anything familiar to you. At least I'll know I heard something right."
"What?" Elena frowned. "Ritual? But he's sacrificed me already. We gave Klaus what he wanted. His werewolf side is dominant. I don't understand. Stefan?"
Stefan tried to get up and shy away, but I caught onto his game before he could make his indiscreet escape. "Excuse me, Salvatore! Sit back down and answer my questions," I sighed impatiently with my hands on my hips.
He looked at me with confusion, but eventually sat down again. "What can I help you with?" he offered.
"What happened when you went on your little road trip with Klaus?" I inquired, removing the physical hold Damon had on me and pacing the length of the living room.
Stefan didn't say anything. Of course, I didn't think that he would, but there was always the faintest hope inside of me that Stefan would actually manage to conjure up some sense. I was seemingly wrong.
"What've you got to hide, brother?" Damon grinned, raising his hands in a confused gesture. "What did you and the big bad hybrid get up to in the many states of America?"
"I have nothing to hide," Stefan strugged. "But, then again, there's not much to share."
"Oh, come on," Damon groaned. "You went to Florida, Tennesee, Chicago, etcetera, etcetera. You had a blast. Got to relive you're murderous past. I hear that you and Mr Klaus became best buddies again, just like you were in 1920s Chicago. So, please do tell us what happened on your historically exhilarating little holiday. I'd love to know the details."
"I've told you everything, Damon," Stefan insisted. "Please, give it a rest. There's nothing left to tell.
I went off with Klaus, we travelled a bit, and then Klaus handed me back to you. It was as easy as that."
"Stefan Salvatore, you're not telling the truth," I said knowingly, coming to a halt by the armchair. "What happened in Bulgaria?"
Stefan was really bad at pretending to be baffled. I suddenly became glad that Stefan never began a career in acting. He would have sucked.
"Come on, Stefan," I continued. "You mean you haven't told Elena and Damon of your little detour?"
"What detour?" Elena confirmed my question. Now Stefan had to say something.
"Well, Klaus and I stopped by Bulgaria on our way back here," he began. He didn't continue.
"And?" I prompted. "What were Klaus' motives for chillin' out in a foreign, European country? Come on, Salvatore! He must have confided in you. I mean, you were his wing man."
"Okay," Stefan gave in. "His werewolf side wasn't working, because he hadn't killed the Petrova doppelganger. While on the way back to Virginia, he decided to stop by Bulgaria. Said he'd heard something about another Petrova doppelganger who was in hiding. We found her, and the ritual was complete. Klaus finally managed to release the werewolf within him. Then he let me go."
Elena took a deep breath. "So why does he want me? He's now an official hybrid. He can create other hybrids, right?"
"I believe some of Ray Sutton's pack are now hybrids," Stefan nodded. "But they aren't on his side. They went stray. Turned rabid while under Klaus' influence."
"But what does he want with Elena?" I tried.
"Klaus was having a few issues," Stefan muttered, unsure.
"Which were?" Damon pushed.
"Just before he let me go, Klaus had a few issues with his werewolf side. He would transform at the most inconvenient of times. He wanted to get a witch to limit his transformations."
An idea suddenly came to me. "Did he get aggressive with his transformations? Was he desperate to get rid of them, perhaps?"
Before Stefan could answer, there was a loud, echoing knock on the door. Damon sprinted from the living room.
"It's you again," he muttered.
"Care to invite me in?" a familiar, terrifying voice asked politely. Stefan jumped up and posed in a defensive crouch in front of Elena.
"Klaus," she murmured.
"Oh," I whined. "Fuck."
"What's wrong?" Elena and Stefan turned to me.
"I can't exactly clarify what's wrong yet," I decided. "But let's just say that I don't think that Klaus is going to be too happy with me."
"I'm not letting you in!" Damon argued, raising his voice slightly.
"Then let me talk to the doppelganger," Klaus pleaded.
"The doppelganger is dead," Damon replied bitterly.
"Damon Salvatore, you couldn't fool me," Klaus chuckled. "You're girlfriend has told me everything. Please just let me see Elena. Please."
"Is Klaus begging?" Stefan whispered.
"Elena," Damon called pleasantly. "There's someone here to see you."
Stefan reluctantly let Elena brush past him. He followed close behind her, and I was close behind him. Damon was doubled over with laughter, leaning against the wall for support.
"Elena," Klaus smiled with relief. "Please, listen to me. I need your help. I need you, Elena. Please, hear me out."
"I don't want to hear it," Elena refused. "I don't care about what you've got to say."
Just as Elena spun on her heel and started to walk away from the door, Klaus dropped to his knees.
"Please, Elena," he sobbed. "Please. I can't take it anymore. I just can't handle it. It hurts, Elena, and I can't control it. I just need your help. I need you again. You made a lucky escape the second time round, what with there being another doppelganger, but, if you just let me kill you again then I'll leave your family alone. I swear I will. Just save me from myself, Elena. Save me from myself."
And then Elena stood still and turned to face Klaus.
"Live and let die, Elena," I reminded her. "Live and let die."
"I'll do it," she nodded after a while. "I'll be the sacrifice."