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RHYSAND ABERNATHY

"What made you hate him?" Stefan asked, pressing his back against the cell wall. "What happened to you that day, Rhysand? Why haven't you told anybody?"

Rhysand laughed, pressing his back against the door frame. "Getting right into the nitty gritty, Stef?" He asked, holding out a glass of bourbon. Stefan stood, walked up to the cell door and took it from between the bars before sitting back down. 

He and Rhysand were on opposite sides. Stefan was in the cell, Rhysand leaned against the wall across it. 

"You call it the nitty gritty, I call it curiousness and concern. What was so bad that even Damon, the cause of that pain, doesn't know about it?" Rhysand looked down at the ground beneath his feet for a moment. It was a question that he did not want to answer, though he'd always known Stefan would ask eventually. He knew, in companion with that fact, that he would need to answer. 

He'd always meant to tell Damon what happened, but after a point, after a lot of hatred and a lot of anger, he remembered that Damon was next door while it happened. He remembered that Damon had screamed alongside him and wondered if Klaus had compelled Damon to forget that, much like he would've compelled him to forget of Rhysands existence, had Damon not snapped at him and caused all that'd come of it. 

"Werewolves," Rhysand said, closing his eyes. It was better than having to see his best friend as he deteriorated in the rocky walled, dirt floored, six-by-nine foot cellar. "Do you know what has to happen in order for a werewolf to transition?"

"Not nearly as much as you seem to, no. Why?"

"The day that Damon snapped at Klaus was the day it happened to me," Rhysand said. "Now, vampires heal. Our bodies heal, so the breaking of bones is an injury from which we're easily able to recover. Unless, of course, there's intervention from a witch, a spell that puts the healing process to a halt. Klaus kidnapped a witch from a powerful bloodline and threatened to kill him and his family unless he did Klaus' bidding."

"Who was it?" Stefan asked. "Do you know?" 

"Joshua Parker," Rhysand said. "Some guy from the Gemini Coven, I think. Threatened to kill his family if he didn't comply though, so I don't blame him for what he did. I've also heard he was quite handsomely compensated so I don't even think he regrets it," Rhysand said. "I blame Klaus. He threatened his life, made him do a spell to keep me from healing, and then made him preform another spell. One that would put me through the breaking of every single one of my bones. He was forced to do it four times before he was let go. I've never made a point of seeking him out and apologizing on Klaus' behalf, but I have long decided that I am not responsible for apologizing to anyone on the behalf of Klaus' misgivings." 

"Klaus—" Stefan started, pausing for a moment thereafter. "He did that to you because of Damon, correct?"

"He was going to make us forget each other. Damon and I didn't like that idea. The only difference between how we both behaved that day was that Damon fought against it, and I did not. I had to talk Klaus down from killing us both, and he let us keep the memories as punishment for a relationship that'd been left in ruins."

Klaus' goal had been to ruin their relationship, to destroy it, if he couldn't erase it completely. He'd done what he'd set out to do, and both Rhysand and Damon had been reaping the consequences for it in the decade that'd passed since then.

"There's a chance for you two," Stefan said. "There has to be."

Rhysand allowed himself a laugh. "Stefan, don't worry about me. If anyone, I should be concerned about you. How're you feeling?"

"Guilty," Stefan said, taking a sip of the bourbon that Rhysand had gotten for him. "Tired. Hungry. I've also been overcome with the sudden urge to track Klaus down and punch him in the face, but I do suppose that such thing is something you get used to."

"It really is, innit?" Rhysand laughed at himself, sighing as he pushed himself off the wall. "All right. Your girls got your daylight ring, and I think it's time that she talks some sense into you. Goodnight, Stefan."

"Sleep well, Rhys." With the words, Rhysand left, walking up the stairs and into the living room.

--

Rhysand found himself in the Mystic Grill later, nursing a glass of brandy, much as he had been for the thirty minutes prior to then. Alaric Saltzman was sat to his left. 

He'd forgone his usual attire and was at the Grill wearing a simple pair of jeans, a button down shirt that had the top two buttons undone to showcase his daylight ring and collarbone. 

He'd gone to the grill in search of something fun, a distraction from his feelings for Damon and the overwhelming amount of shit that was going on, but he'd had yet to find it.

"You're a vampire, correct?"

"Correct indeed," Rhysand said, nodding slightly. "Before you even think about it, know that I'll use the chain around my neck to kill you before you can even so much as pull out a stake, which you'll then drive home, into my chest. I respect you, Saltzman, but I'm perfectly capable of killing you if you cross me."

Alaric laughed. "You really do sound like him," he said. "Klaus. What he's rumored to sound like, anyway."

Rhysand ignored the resentment that showed itself with the mention of Klaus' name. "I do not," he said. "If you think that a threat such as that one is one that Klaus would make when angered, you've sorely misinterpreted whatever it is that you've heard. Klaus does not make threats, he simply kills. He is not a man who threatens destruction, but rather one who creates it."

"I'm not afraid of him," Alaric said. "Nor am I afraid of Katherine."

"You should be. The moment you hear Klaus' name, you should be debating running for the hills," Rhysand said. He merely shrugged as he spoke. "Though I do suppose that the reality of such will set in soon enough." He slammed his brandy and stood, making his exit thereafter.