Whatever It Takes {Two | Alaric Saltzman}

An Eternity of Misery

The Armory was empty of anyone on its upper levels except for two people sitting on the couches in the reception area. Abigail could see them through the front windows, one moving slowly, the other moving normally, but they did not see her until the heavy doors announced her arrival. Neither of them was surprised to see her, just the white paper bag and tray of coffee.

"Morning!" She met Alaric in a kiss. "How are you feeling, Bourbon Breath?"

He tightened his arms around her. "Like I need the medicine bag."

"Here you go. And a change of clothes." She watched him walk to the bathroom before spreading the breakfast she bought across the table between her and Stefan. "On a scale of one to ten, how hungover do you think he is?"

"Oh, a solid eight." Stefan took the coffee marked with his name. "So, thanks for the coffee."

"The nanny got to the house early this morning. It gave me time to stop, and it gave me time to think of fun and inventive ways to keep the tuning fork ringing considering we've seen what Sybil can do when she gets inside your head." She pulled another set of clothes out of her bag. "I brought you a t-shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of Alaric's jeans that are a little too tight."

He laughed sweetly. "Very mom like of you."

"I'll even wash what you've got on now and send you home with a snack." The doors echoed as someone came inside, pulling her attention from the person in front of her to the one approaching. "Georgie?"

Georgie stopped next to Stefan. "Hey."

"I thought I told you not to come in today," Abigail said. "We're in the middle of a major project for the foundation. No interns. So why don't you just take the day off..."

"Major project? Sounds sketchy. Got a girl tied up in the basement?" Georgie looked from Abigail to Stefan as they shared a silent exchange. "Jokes. Okay, I'll leave you to it."

She waited for her to leave before turning back to Stefan. "Any word from Damon?"

"None," he replied. "And that's what worries me."

A keypad lock led into each concrete holding cell of the Armory. The lighting was not bright within them, but the dark hall they were adjacent from made it seem that way. An observation window gave a view into a sterile room, letting them see the only person who was in one.

Sybil was sitting on the metal framed bed with her eyes closed. They could hear her humming through the speakers, a tune that was calling out. Until Stefan tapped the tuning fork against the glass, replacing her song with groans.

"The all-powerful siren." Stefan pinched the tines, stopping the fork from ringing. "Imprisoned by a fork."

Recovered, she looked only at Stefan. "Says the man who can be killed with a stick."

"What is it about that thing that hurts you so much?" Abigail asked.

Alaric crossed his arms over his chest. "And why does it hurt our kids?"

"And here I thought you had me all figured out." Sybil pursed her lips. "Guess not."

Stefan rang the tuning fork again. "If this disrupts your psychic ability, then why is Damon still your puppet?"

Her voice came out strained, "I tinkered with the deepest reaches of his subconscious. If Damon's still serving me, it's because, deep down, he wants to."

"Why are you doing this to him?"

"It's all Damon, Damon, Damon." Floating toward them, she observed the way they were standing with Abigail between them but she settled on Stefan as she met the glass. "Aren't you even a little curious about who I am?"