Family Above All

52. By the Pricking of my Thumbs

Pairing: George/Nessie (M/f) wooden spoon

Cutting prompt for Raven/Damon horses prompt for Channelle/Damon New Moon prompt for Jade

"By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes."

-Shakespeare, Macbeth

Friday, April 6, 2012

Mikaelson Mansion

Night

An Hour Before

Damon needed privacy. Lucy was trying to get Dorian settled in Damon's room as the poor guy had just gone through hell. It was horrible to see Lucy and Bonnie trying to lift the Strix compulsion from Dorian's mind, he couldn't imagine going through that.

Damon didn't feel like talking to Enzo and he didn't know where Klaus was. Elijah and Rebekah were with the kids in their room. Stefan was no where to be found. Ric went home for dinner...Damon figured he'd use Elijah's bathroom. He just needed a minute.

Damon went into the pristine room and stumbled into the large bathroom. He splashed his face with some cold water, spraying the mirror in the process. It didn't help. Damon stared at himself in the mirror. Who was he now? A fucking freak. Though the full moon didn't seem be affecting him, the magic was. He could feel it coursing through his body and mind. He couldn't lose control of it again. He had barely spoken to Kol about biting him. Kol had assured him that he didn't blame Damon, but at times Damon felt that Kol was frightened of him. Maybe it was just in his head? Damon needed a drink, he thought...He crouched down to look for some mouthwash, that had alcohol in it, didn't it? But what Damon found was better. A straight razor.

Damon remembered Giuseppe having a similar one. He used to watch him sharpening it on the leather strop. That sound...

The man servant would shave Giuseppe and let Damon put some soap on his face and pretend to shave until his nurse chased him out. He would sneak in and play with the razor when he was older, sometimes cutting himself by accident. Then he started to do it on purpose. The sight of his own bright red blood thrilled him. It gave him a release somehow. Maybe he had always been destined to be a vampire? Damon grabbed the razor and rolled up his pant leg.

Slice...the sharp pain, the blood.

Damon exhaled, finally feeling some relief. He cut again, this time deeper, watching his blood drip down on the cream-colored tiles.

"What are you doing?" Elijah exclaimed, vamping to grab a towel.

"Oh, um," Damon stammered, ashamed to have been caught slumped on the floor.

"Damon," Elijah said, pressing the towel to his cut calf. "Are you hurting yourself on purpose?"

Damon shrugged, "I was looking for mouthwash. Ah, Dorian's in my room."
Elijah pulled the towel away as Damon's wounds healed.

"That was a deep one. Now, tell me what's going on," Elijah demanded, kneeling by his nephew.

Damon focused his bright blue eyes on Elijah, figuring he couldn't lie. He was too exhausted to even try.

"I don't know. It sometimes helps," Damon admitted. "I used to do it when I was human with my father's straight razor. Seeing the blood and feeling the pain calms me. Then, I turned to booze, but you don't want me getting shit-faced so..."
Elijah leaned against the wall. He was horrified, but understood the sentiment. He cleared his throat.

"Did you father ever speak of Tatia? She was the first doppelgänger in our lives. She must have been some ancestor of Katerina, but to us, she was just a beautiful young widow with a child," Elijah mused.