The Bourbon Diaries ✢ The Vampire Diaries FanFiction ✢ TVD FanFic ✢ TVDU FanFic

Chapter Twelve - Damon Salvatore

Three and a half years ago

Mystic Falls, VA

New Year's Day, 12.05am

Damon pulled the burlap sack from Phoenix's head, continuing to hear fireworks in the distance. "Of all people I didn't want to see in the New Year with, it's you."

Phoenix shook his ruffled hair back into place. "Was the sack really necessary? It smelled like potatoes in there," he complained.

"That's because it's a potato sack, moron," Damon shot back. "Yes, it was necessary, you think I can concentrate on driving with you leering at my neck all the way here?"

Despite Damon having explained what he was going through in the car, Phoenix had yet to be convinced. Of course he'd rather be a vampire than die, but this wasn't what this was. This was... he didn't know what this was. He lifted up his bound wrists. "Why do you own three pairs of handcuffs?"

Damon pointed to each of the two heavy-duty cuffs around his wrists. "Vampires. Vampires." He stopped at the flimsy, fluffy pair. "That one's none of your business."

Phoenix sniffed, his nose still irritated from the fabric of the sack, and looked around, taking in his surroundings. For the most part, it seemed like any other regular neighbourhood basement. Except for the weapons. There were a lot of weapons. Stakes, crossbows, knives, axes, guns, and bullets lined up in ammo holders, all gracing the walls. Phoenix tested the ropes that were securing him around the chest to the chair. He felt stronger now than he used to feel, he was sure he could break out of them if he tried. Then he watched Damon take a wooden stake from off the wall. Something told him he shouldn't try. "Your basement looks like a torture chamber."

"Oh, it can be," Damon confirmed, heading towards some large cardboard boxes. He placed the stake under his arm, opened a box and removed a worn stuffed dolphin and a photograph. He strolled back, smiling down at the toy, then held it out to show Phoenix. "I had to win this for Stefanie when she was four years old. She had stubbornly insisted on going on this fairground ride on her own, and it looked like the slowest ride ever, so I let her."

"She cried because it was too fast?"

"No, don't interrupt," Damon snapped. "So anyway, she was in this little blue teacup with two other boys, a year or two older, when the one next to her started pushing her and pulling her hair. There I waited, ready to give this little brat an earful the moment he got off the ride. Then the little plastic door opens and out he's about to step, when Stefanie taps him on the shoulder. He turns around and she punches him square in the face." Damon clasped the dolphin to his chest, sighing in reminiscence. "I was so proud. But of course, being only four, I hadn't taught her how to properly punch yet." He held up his fist, his thumb tucked underneath his fingers. "She hurt her thumb, started crying and didn't stop until I'd won her this dolphin."

Unsure if Damon was about to make a point, or if he'd missed it, Phoenix just nodded appreciatively. "Cute story."

"Stefanie loved dolphins as a kid. She's got this fear of drowning, you see. Wouldn't go near a pool of water until she was seven, not even a bathtub." Damon turned and placed the dolphin back in the box, still keeping hold of the photograph. "That little stuffed dolphin couldn't go in the water either, but it wanted to---at least I assume so, it's a dolphin, right? Sometimes we want to do things but we can't, and sometimes we want to do things but we're scared. Stef didn't want to be scared anymore. That toy taught her to be brave; taught her to keep fighting; taught her to feel invincible." Damon's expression turned vicious as he charged up to Phoenix, yanking him by the hair and glaring into his face. "And you nearly took that away from her."