Bloodlust → Stefan Salvatore [1]

The Hybrid

I watch Damon's steps as he paces his living room, waiting for me to speak. I called him. If Stefan really did call me last night, than maybe there's hope that he hasn't flipped his switch. Or that he's still alive.

"God, Blake. Just tell me already. Your silence is impeccable." Damon rolls his eyes.

"He called me, Damon. Stefan called me. Last night." I throw it all out there. He stops, taking everything I just played out for him.

"Last night? Was that before or after you got drunk and ditched your own birthday party?" He asks, crossing his arms.

"After. It was the middle of the night." Damon stands there, examining my answer.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. But it's him. Liz traced the call's origin. It came from Tennessee."

"Where he's binge drinking on the country folk..." Damon mumbles.

"What? How do you know that?" I ask, standing up from the couch.

"Me and Rick went to check out the old farm in Tennessee. The people killed were werewolves."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd react this way, Blake. All summer you've done nothing but track Stefan's every last move, and I'm just trying to make sure you don't get killed!" Damon shouts. "He's gone. And I don't mean geographically."

"Damon, if Stefan was gone than he wouldn't have called." I point out. "If he was gone, he wouldn't care." Damon turns away, ignoring me. He's not going to help, which means there's only one person who can.

I bang loudly on Rick's apartment door. He swings it open with a groan. He rubs his eyes, adjusting to the light from the hallway. "Elena says your not staying at the house anymore." I walk past Rick, entering his home without consent.

"Please, Blake, come in." Rick jokingly sighs, shutting the door.

"I need you to tell me everything you know about Stefan in Tennessee." I demand.

"I checked out of all of this. I'm done." Rick sighs.

"Rick. Whatever you know, Damon knows. And Damon isn't in any mood to help."

"Stefan is off the rails. Damon has a good reason." Rick says, reaching into his fridge and pulling out a can of milk.

"But he hasn't flipped his switch. We can still save him."

"But why do you have to be the one to save him?"

"I'm not the kind of person who checks out." Rick stays silent, leaning down on his counter. "He never gave up on me, so I'm not giving up on him. So, please, tell me what you know." I demand, once again.

"They've been tracking werewolves, all over the Eastern seaboard. We thought we found them outside of Memphis, but we lost them." Rick gives in.

"That explains the two dead werewolf girls you guys found in Tennessee." I say. "I have an idea." I say, grabbing Rick's jacket and throwing it at him.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"We are going to the grill, and meeting someone there."

I slide down into the seat across the table from Tyler. He looks up at me, and around the room. "No one else is here." I assure him.

"Okay. So, what are you looking for?" Tyler asks.