Whatever It Takes {Two | Alaric Saltzman}

Death and the Maiden

Tossing. Turning. Thrashing. A nightmare.

"Stefan!" She shook his shoulders gentler than she thought she should have. "Stefan..."

His eyes snapped open. "Abigail?"

"You... you were having a nightmare." She gave him just enough room to sit up. "I was-"

"I was driving to Portland."

She shook her head slightly. "What?"

"The night I took Silas to the Quarry," he said. "I said goodbye to Lexi, and then I decided to keep driving west."

"How do you remember that?"

"Because Tessa came here last night and she undid whatever spell fried my brain." There was too much emotion on his face to pick out a single one, but his voice leaned in one direction. "I got my memories back."

The hug she pulled him into was unlike any she'd ever given anyone. "Which is why I am going to make the same apology I did on Remembrance Day."

"No, no." His arms tightened around her. "You don't have to..."

"Yeah, I do." Resting her chin on his shoulder, she sank into him. "I am so sorry that I wasn't there when you needed me."

The Salvatore brothers were sitting on the couch opposite of the Gilbert sisters. It looked as if they were playing a game. And, in a way, they were.

"October 1852."

"You broke my nose trying to teach me how to throw a right hook."

Damon looked across the room. "Not on purpose. Just to be clear." He turned his smirk back to Stefan. "How much did you pay for that hunk of junk motorcycle you ride?"

Stefan held up his pointer finger. "That's a trick question. You bought me that motorcycle, although I'm guessing it was pretty expensive."

"So, she really just gave you your memories back with no strings attached?" Elena asked.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a gift. It was a lot to take in at once, everything from blowing out the candles on my first birthday cake to..." His glass shattered in his hand. "Drowning in a safe."

"Woah! Easy there, brother."

"All that and I still can't remember my own strength." He laughed, but Abigail could see what he was trying to hide. "What was that noise?"

"Uh, well, that is-"

Elena cut him off, "We have a situation..."

"Of the doppelgänger variety," Abigail finished for her.

Stefan furrowed his eyebrows. "Katherine?"

"No, nope," Damon said, "not Katherine."

Abigail had fallen silent as she paced in front of Stefan, Damon, and Elena; however, as all of their eyes followed her, she knew she had to say something. "We need to buy more time and protect Amara."

Elena shrugged. "Maybe we should move her somewhere else."

"That won't make a difference," she said.

"Why not?"

"Come on, Elena, you know this." Damon was laying with his head in her lap, looking up at her with an expression that was caught between two places. Alaric used to look at her like that, talk to her like that, love her like that. In a way that was many things at once. In a way that was easy to see through a joking or annoyed tone. In a way that told her exactly how his next words were going to come out. "Silas is a witch. He's a living, breathing, GPS tracking device. Which means he'll track her wherever we take her."