Rational Thinking {Kol Mikaelson}

Chapter Twelve: Lines in the Sand

With a single-mindedness you'd never had the luxury of experiencing before, you raced back to that dingy bar where Kol had remained to prepare the backup plan. Throwing open the doors of the freezer, you were met with a rather pleasing sight.

Damon sat on a metal chair in the center of the room, almost as if he were glued to it. His hands were wrapped around what looked like a yardstick that was half impaled through his body. If the raven-haired Salvatore's body language was anything to go by, that makeshift stake must have been uncomfortably close to his heart and as such was likely to be causing him excruciating pain. His electric blue eyes were locked on Kol's, unable to look away though he was undoubtedly trying. The Original vampire stood over him, grinning like a cat does as it plays with a dying mouse.

"Very good, darling," Kol appealed, his voice was that honeyed, penetrating tone you'd come to associate with compulsion. "Now, stab yourself a little bit further."

Damon screamed as his own hands, having no choice but to obey, pushed the jagged wood closer to his heart. Blood seeped from the gaping hole in his chest and you found yourself tempted to smirk. His pain - his suffering - felt good, you realized. This man had hurt you, he deserved to hurt in return. That was only right. It may have been wrong to enjoy the agony on his face, but you found yourself caring less than you had before. Why should you bother yourself with feeling guilty? Why not just feel good? Was that so bad?

"Awww, Damon-bow-bayman, does that hurt?" You sneered, moving to stand beside Kol. He glanced up from his work.

"Ah! You're here!" He said. His smile fell just a little as he took in your narrowed eyes and the twitch at the corner of your mouth. "I take it things didn't go over too well with Jeremy, did they?"

You shook your head. "He misses his sister more than he remembers her and thinks that if he destroys himself, he can bring back a person who was never there in the first place," You observed coolly. You blinked and peered up at the boy who'd said he loved you. "We'll just have to fix that."

Kol nodded and leaned down. His arm circled your waist and he pressed a soft, tranquil kiss to your lips. Somehow you felt just a little bit better.

"We'll work on it," He promised with another kiss. "For now, however, you're just in time. I was just about to get started."

"If you're gonna... kill me... do it like a... man," Damon panted, in what was clearly a desperate attempt to keep up his self-imbued tough boy persona. His eyes flicked to you. "Or run... like the cowards... you are."

You glared at him, lips curling with disgust. "The greatest cowards are those who run from the truth," You hummed. Kol's hand stroked your side and you leaned into him.

"We don't want to kill you," Kol continued. You nudged him and he amended himself. "At least, I don't - not at the moment. I just want to make sure you can be compelled."

"I'm gonna rip out your spleen," Damon threatened. It was a little pathetic in his current state.

Kol laughed at his attempt. "You ought to be thanking me," He reasoned. "You don't really want the cure found. I mean, you fancy Elena! Even more now that she's a vampire, admit it!" He kicked a stray arm from the pile of corpses out of his way as he leaned over Damon's right shoulder. "The last vestige of her humanity is her annoying little brother Jeremy... and deep, deep down, I bet you want him dead, don't you?"

You made no move to speak up. You knew what Kol was doing.

You hadn't thought to include psychological warfare in your backup plan, but his method was certainly a welcome addition. Mixing the older Salvatore up in the head just a little would probably help the compulsion stick that much better.