⌠ 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 ⌡
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It was about 11 am when Rory Gilbert was confronted by her sister and a disturbed-looking Stefan Salvatore in her living room. She held the cup of coffee in her hand, hair in a disastrous-looking bird's nest upon being woken up out of her peaceful sleep. Apparently, both Stefan and Elena were very unhappy with her for asking Elijah to let Katherine go free.
"You do realise that you let a psychotic egomaniac out into human civilisation, right?" Stefan inquired, arms crossed over his chest. Rory yawned in response, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. Stefan didn't even bother realising that she wasn't listening. "I was okay with being stuck in that tomb with her as long as she was with me, paying for what she's done!"
Rory leaned back in the armchair, sipping serenely from her hot cappuccino. She had stayed up far too late last night turning in last minute work after emailing her lecturer that she wouldn't be able to complete it the day before, then promptly forgetting about it again, therefore she had finished it about 10 minutes before her time was up. She had slept at 6 am and was rudely awoken before she was ready to let herself be awake and handle people talking—much less yelling—at her.
"Rory," Elena waved her hand in front of the girl's face. "Rory, are you even listening?"
"Not really," Rory responded truthfully. Elena let out a sigh of disdain as Stefan gave her an incredulous stare. Rory pressed her fingers over her eyelids. "Listen, I don't know why both of you are making such a big fuss over this! I owed Katherine for giving me answers when all of you were being annoying and hiding stuff from me."
"We don't even know where she is; she could be anywhere, feeding from some innocent human," Stefan snapped.
"Well, RIP to that innocent human then," Rory sneered. She was very much not a morning person. She would probably feel bad about that comment later. Elena gave her a shocked look, whereas Stefan rolled his eyes. Rory sighed. "Okay, if there are any murders, all of you can blame me. But, for now, let's just revel in the fact that she hasn't left a dead body on our front doors."
"Why did you make that deal with Elijah?" Stefan demanded. "We can't trust him—we don't know anything about him."
Rory shrugged. "I don't know, he just seems like the kind of guy that's easy to trust. The three-piece suit and the English accent?" Rory sipped at her coffee. "I mean, I'm not a slut, but who knows?"
"Christ, Rory. You know he tried to kidnap us, right?" Elena asked.
"But he didn't. Plus, he gave me this vervain bracelet," Rory pointed to the angel wing charm hanging off her wrist. "You guys didn't even tell me that vervain was able to resist compulsion and burn vampires. Which I'm sure was on purpose, because then you wouldn't have the means to manipulate and gaslight me. Am I right?" Rory asked. No response. "Great. This has been an amazing chat, but I need to get some sleep. Let's talk later."
"Wait," Elena interjected before Rory could stand up and head to her room. Rory whirled around, giving Elena an exasperated stare. She then said, "Could you check on Rose and Damon? Rose got bitten by a werewolf last night."
"Why can't you check on them?" asked Rory.
"Stefan and I are going out to look for answers—we found out that Elijah could compel other vampires," Elena responded as she stood up. "Please, Rory?"
"I won't have to stay more than like, five minutes, right?"
"I promise. Ten minutes, tops."
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It had been an hour and Rory was still at the Salvatore house. "Ten minutes" had turned into 15, then Damon had told her to babysit Rose because her bite was getting worst and Damon needed to get help. Rory wasn't really an expert at taking care of people—she didn't go to nursing school, she was a film student—but she had known enough from babysitting Jeremy and making him stay in bed whilst he had a fever.
"I hate this. I'm a vampire; I haven't had a cold in five centuries," Rose complained.
Rory sighed, forcing her to stay back against the mattress by her shoulders. "I haven't taken care of a sick, whiny baby in a while. Don't make me pull out the storybook and start reading Sleeping Beauty," Rory responded. "Don't tell my brother I told you, but it's his favourite. He said that it's because Princess Aurora and I share the same name."
Rose's lips upturned into a small smile, "That's cute. What's your brother's name?"
"Jeremy," Rory said, pressing her hand against her forehead. "You're burning up."
"That's because I'm going to die," Rose said.
"You're not going to die," Rory countered, rolling her eyes.
"Such a human thing to say," Rose ignored her attempt at comfort, turning her head. Rory leaned back on her arms, looking around Damon's room. "You've never been in Damon's room, have you?" Rose inquired as Rory stood up, picking up a book from the shelf. Gone With the Wind. "Not what you expected?"
"I was expecting more of some chains and whips," Rory placed the book back on the shelf, "Some Fifty Shades of Grey-esque stuff. Silk sheets," Rory jumped on the edge of the bed, spreading her arms and legs out. "If I was rich, I'd want silk sheets."
"Do you have someone?" Rose suddenly questioned. Rory lifted her head up, giving her a confused look. "I mean, your sister has two someones. She's lucky in that regard. But what about you? No one really talks about you."
"Flattery, Rose," Rory responded with sarcasm. "It gets you everywhere," she tucked a pillow underneath her chin. "But, if you're wondering, I do have a boyfriend. He's back in Chicago, and he's lovely."
"That's nice," Rose smiled. "You and your sister are lucky. No one's ever loved me the way you two are loved."
"I wouldn't call what Nik and I have as love," Rory said. "I'm not really too sure about that, yet. But maybe Stefan is in love with Elena, and maybe Damon is too. All I know is that it's none of my damn business. Either way, I sincerely doubt that you've never had someone love you. What was that guy's name? Trevor?"
"Trevor was my best friend; nothing more. I spent all those years on the run from Elijah. I just never thought it was a good idea to set up roots—the whole idea of family is not exactly compatible with being a vampire. Why are you so eager to give it up?" Rose asked.
"Not giving anything up," Rory took a glass of blood provided from Damon at the bedside table. She forced herself to think of it as a strawberry smoothie or something. She handed it to Rose, "Here, drink up."
"What do you call this whole deal with Elijah, then?" Rose inquired, taking the blood from her grasp.
"I call it a deal with the devil, but better the devil I know than the devil I don't," Rory shrugged.
"Why are you so eager to die?" Rose asked suddenly. Rory blinked, not expecting the question. "The other day you told me you've wanted to die for a long time. Why?"
Rory had to fight to remember that Rose was literally 500 years old, and mental health was probably not a thing most commonly talked about in the old ages. The oversensitive, insecure part of her wanted to spit out what a stupid question that was, but she realised it was just genuine curiosity and ignorance.
Rory simply said, "When my parents died, I didn't know how to cope. I fell down a hole and I was never able to crawl back out,"
Rose nodded, before her eyes slipped shut. "I'm so tired," she whispered quietly.
"I'll leave you to it, then," Rory stated.
She stood up, prepared to leave the room, when Rose started mumbling. "No, stop, wait. Tell them to prepare the horses—"
"Rose?" Rory frowned.
"Trevor, don't be so stupid; you're never going to make it there before the sun," Rose continued to speak. Suddenly, she sat up and gasped in pain. "Rory—Rory, I need more blood."
"Um, shit," Rory mumbled to herself. She grabbed another glass of blood, handing it to her quickly. Rose gulped it down, but quickly threw it back up. Rory jumped back to prevent any of it from getting on her clothes.
Rory cursed under her breath, not knowing what to do. How do you treat a vampire that's throwing up blood? Vampires aren't even supposed to get sick according to the TV shows and movies that she's watched. Rose suddenly rushed out of bed, rushing past the Gilbert girl. Rory spun on her heel, only to see Rose standing behind her.
Rose's hand clamped around Rory's neck, putting her in a chokehold. Rory let out a muffled squeak as her back was slammed against the wall as Rose hissed in her face, "It's all your fault, Katerina. You, Katerina—you did this!"
"Rose, it's Rory!" Rory choked out, grasping at Rose's wrist, "It's not Katherine! It's me!"
"You betrayed us!" Rose snarled.
"I'm not Katherine!" Rory repeated, slamming her foot against Rose's knee roughly.
Rose released her, causing Rory to fall to the ground. She grasped at her neck, coughing as she attempted to regain her bearings. Her throat hurt, Rose's grip almost crushing her windpipe completely. Rose looked horrified, "Rory?"
"Yup," Rory managed to croak out.
"Oh my god—Rory, I'm so sorry. I don't know what's happening to me. I'm sorry," Rose rushed out.
"It's fine," Rory waved her off, "It's all good."
"My mind, I'm..."
"It's okay," Rory reassured. Despite her words, she flinched back against the wall as Rose approached her. The vampire could hear Rory's heart slamming against her ribcage, her knees tugged to her chest.
"I'm sorry. Don't be scared of me," Rose whispered.
"I'm not," Rory lied, hiding her trembling hands between her knees, "I'm not, I promise. You just need to get some rest."
Rose laid back in bed, her cheek nestled against the pillows. "Can you read me that book you were talking about? Sleeping Beauty?"
"I don't think Damon has any fairytale books in his collection," Rory gave her a sympathetic smile as she pushed herself into a standing position. Her knees wobbled, feeling like jello after the slightly traumatising experience of having a vampire attempt to crush her larynx.
"I want to go home," Rose whimpered.
Rory approached her cautiously, "Why don't you tell me about it? Your home,"
"St. Austell. Thirty kilometres south of London. With fields and trees and horses,"
"Sounds like a fairytale," Rory responded.
Rose pressed her face further into the pillow, "When you live long enough, everything disappears. So much time wasted... I just wish I wouldn't have been so afraid,"
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Rory examined the growing bruise on her neck, her fingers brushing over the tender skin. She winced in pain, knowing that she would have to cover it with foundation and concealer for the next two weeks. Vampires and their necks, she thought bitterly as she let her hair fall over her shoulders, covering the purplish-red skin.
She checked the time. Damon still wasn't home, and no news from Elena or Stefan. It had been over three hours since she stepped foot in the Salvatore boarding house, and half an hour since she was attacked by an ill vampire. She ran a hand through her hair, placing a hand over her chest to gather herself.
You'll be fine, she reassured herself, everything's going to be just fine.
She walked out of the bathroom, heading back to Damon's bedroom to check on Rose. "Rose?" Rory called, pushing open the door. She paused at the doorway, seeing that Rose wasn't in the bedroom anymore. She let out a small curse as she pulled out her phone to dial Damon's number.
It went straight to voicemail. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, leaving a voicemail, "Hey you stupid fucking shithead. You said you'd be back in a few minutes; it's been three hours. I got choked out by Rose and now she's missing. Come home or I'll set every single one of your shirts on fire,"
She ended the call, sliding her phone back into her pocket. A loud bang came from downstairs, causing Rory to whip around in surprise. She clenched her jaw, knowing that it was probably smarter to stay away from the mysterious noise coming from the basement, but she also knew that Rose was her responsibility for now.
She grabbed the poker from the fireplace, making her way downstairs, "Rose?" she called as she followed after the noise.
Please don't have a dead body in there, please don't have a dead body in there, please don't have a dead body in there.
"Oh my god," Rory whispered under her breath as she came to a stop in front of Rose, crouched over a cooler. Empty blood bags littered the floor around her, drained. Rose's chin was completely stained in blood when she whipped around to see Rory standing behind her.
"Katerina," Rose growled.
"No!" Rory yelped, whirling around to sprint up the stairs as Rose runs towards her. Rose grabbed her by the ankle, causing her to slam against the floor. Rory flipped onto her back, holding the poker out like a sword, "Rose, I am not against stabbing you right now!" she yelled. Rose continued to crawl over her. "You're hallucinating, I'm not Katherine! I'm not Katherine!"
In her last desperate attempt to escape, Rory shoved the poker through Rose's stomach. Rose let out a scream of pain, falling off Rory. The brunette stumbled onto her feet, sprinting towards the door. Rose pulled the poker out of her stomach, rushing towards Rory. She bared her teeth at the human, but Rory slammed her elbow against Rose's face, causing her to stagger back in pain.
Rory took a detour, sprinting up the stairs. Her heart pounded against her chest as she found a random room, slamming the door shut and locking it. She grabbed a chair from the dresser in front of her, placing it under the doorknob. She pressed herself against the wall, placing her hand over her mouth to prevent the terrified sob that threatened to rip out of her throat.
"Rory? I know that's you and not Katherine," Rose's voice came through the door. She coughed, before letting out a groan, "Rory, please? I need your help."
Rory placed her hands over her ears, forcing her eyes shut. Her entire body was trembling, aching. She wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up under her covers. Small, short puffs of breath left her lips as tears slipped from her eyes as Rose continued to pound against the door, begging for Rory to let her in.
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By the time Rory awoke, night had fallen. She hadn't realised she fell asleep—her body's way of shutting itself down and away from the fear and panic that crept through her body. She slowly pushed herself into a standing position. She felt so, so exhausted. Her eyes were swollen, and her throat was bruised and aching.
Realising that Rose was no longer banging on the door, Rory slowly moved the chair from under the doorknob. She pulled the door open slowly, tiptoeing out into the hallway. She picked up the poker that was laying on the ground, still stained with Rose's blood. She paused in her step as she realised that the main door was swung open, and there was no sign of the ill vampire.
"Rory?" Damon suddenly asked, making the human let out a shriek of surprise, almost shoving the poker through his chest. He grabbed her wrist before she could make any real damage, eyebrows furrowed in concern, "Are you okay? Where's Rose?"
Rory let out a puff of air, "I don't know, Damon," she shoved the poker into his hands. "You told me that you'd be back in a few minutes—it's been hours. What the hell were you thinking?" she hissed.
"Rory—"
"I'm hurt," Rory interjected, "Badly. I don't know how delusional you are to allow a human in the same house as a sick, hallucinating vampire for hours without picking up the phone, but screw you."
Damon didn't even get to apologise, Rory whirling around to storm out of the house.
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Rory watched as Rose's blood was washed from her hands, the water tinted red. She rested her head against the shower walls, exhausted and fatigued. Her throat ached, her body ached, everything about her ached. She just wanted to sleep; she needed it. She deserved it. She stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself after drying her hair haphazardly.
Her phone rang on the dresser, DAMON flashed on her screen. She picked it up, "Hello?" she inquired.
"Rose is dead," Damon stated. Rory paused in her step, pursing her lips. "I just wanted to say I was sorry. You're right—I shouldn't have left you with her. I was irresponsible."
"Damon..." Rory trailed off.
"I just wanted you to know. I was wrong,"
"I'm sorry too," Rory finally said.
Damon ended the call promptly, and all that she heard was the dial tone. She sighed, tossing the phone on her bed. She shrugged on an oversized hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts. She opened her door, prepared to make herself a cup of tea to calm herself, when she paused on the staircase. Elena and Stefan were over, but they weren't alone. They were accompanied by a man she never thought she'd see again.
"Uncle John?"
A/N: and the hits keep coming and coming. #letroryrest2k20
day 93489438, still no klaus scenes in sight. y'all are bored out of your minds. please stick with this story it's worth it i promise (and hope).