Day 51: Arts and Crafts [Second Shift]

[gald_digger]

They actually listened to some of the suggestions people put in that box? Anise thought the Head Doctor had to be joking when he said that, but she soon heard him mention something that she herself had suggested: sewing supplies. They were really going to get some? Anise could finally get a real needle, so she could make repairs to Tokunaga whenever she needed to. She swiped one of their blunt, plastic needles before, but using that just left big holes in the fabric. Using it on Tokunaga made her feel bad, like she was hurting the poor doll.

"Isn't that nice, Dolores?" The nurse must have caught Anise's hopeful look. "But remember, you'll need to be on your best behavior until then."

"I know, I..." Anise began with her usual dismissive reply, but quickly remembered that the intercom had said 'behavior and attitudes', and instantly changed her tune. "I'll do my very best! Hee hee!" She forced a smile for the old hag.

Unfortunately, the sewing supplies weren't here today, so Anise had to find something else to do for now. Stepping inside the Arts and Crafts room, she quickly found that several tables already had paper craft ('origami,' they called it?) supplies laid out for them, so she guessed she'd just occupy herself with that. The girl sat down at one of the tables, opened up one of the books, and started looking through it.

Cranes, frogs, horses, turtles... There were lots of familiar animals, and a few unfamiliar ones, too. The rabbits looked kind of cute.

[For Ilia!]

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[sainted]

Even fifteen years apart hadn't been enough to make Stefan forget the sarcastic cadence of his brother's voice, but still he spun around to face him, not believing until he saw it for himself. "Damon! What are you—?" One hand went out, as if he thought to reach for him, but Stefan quickly pulled it back, instead propping both his hands on his hips instead as he eyed the origami sheet between Damon's fingers.

If it were anyone else, he might have wondered for a split second whether his nostalgia had summoned a hallucination in the shape of his brooding thoughts. In strange times, people's minds reached for familiar things, even if those things were... Damon. But Stefan didn't wonder. For better or worse, he believed in his brother's unerring tendency to turn up like a bad penny, no matter where Stefan was. Even death or kidnapping probably wouldn't stop him. Well... permanent death, that was.

But evidently Damon was the normal kind of dead, and Stefan's mind fumbled for a second over the relief that flooded him when he saw him. Luckily, like most positive emotions attached to his brother, this quickly gave way to frustration: for someone who'd recently escaped a fire and had now been kidnapped and attired in a ridiculous grey uniform, Damon didn't look the least bit concerned. The way he referred to Elena seemed to indicate that she was okay, but also that Damon knew a lot more than he did.

"What's going on?" Stefan asked, not a little accusingly.

[saviored]

Of course Stefan would ask the most obvious question. It was usually...fun, the way his brother always seemed to believe he had all the answers (which Damon often did, so he could hardly blame Stefan for thinking that all the time), but there was a presumptuous note to it this turn around that Damon couldn't say he appreciated. Not least because it was entirely misdirected in this case.

Predictable. But what did he care, what his brother chose to assume about him by default?

Damon slapped the folded sheet of paper against Stefan's chest and circled around him without a glance back. Whether Stefan chose to take it or let it fall was of no consequence to him.

"What's going on," he said, hooking his fingers beneath the backrest of a chair and carrying it back to the middle of the room with complete disregard as to its blatant misplacement, "is that we've been abducted by some unknown means, stuck in the Wal-Mart production of Gothika, and inexplicably stripped of anything useful that comes with being dead." He straddled the chair, chin propped on the back of his hand. "Does that answer your question?"

If not, too bad, because that was all Damon had to offer. Well, and that thing with the girl earlier, but he didn't feel up to explaining that right now. He preferred to know exactly what it was he'd be trying to explain before he launched into it. So it could wait.

"Oh, and FYI. Elena? Yeah, we have a serious problem. Apparently, she doesn't remember anything beyond that time you were..." He waved a hand, dismissive. "Normal, for once. Her locket is conveniently vervain-free."

He sounded no less casual than he had from the start, but his eyes were pinned on Stefan now and the faint smile had disappeared. He wasn't so much curious about Stefan's reaction as he was simply waiting for it. He knew how Stefan would react, even if he hadn't already know everything about Stefan, period, in the first place. They could agree on Elena, the both of them. It was the only thing.

To a certain extent, anyway. Maybe Stefan didn't quite agree with their little budding friendship, but in that case, further satisfaction could only be gained from such circumstances. Damon still counted himself as coming out ahead.

[sainted]

Stefan took the folded sheet of paper, of course, less because of anything to do with Damon than his own sense of order. Of course Damon didn't care about other people's things, be they other people's books, blood or free will; Stefan, by contrast, could show basic human consideration and not enter his brother's room without warning or leave mess after mess for his brother to clean up. Well, with the exception of his recent... episode.

Maybe it didn't matter. Whatever happened, Damon was still his only brother, and perhaps Stefan couldn't hate him even if he tried.

So he listened, and ignored the looks they got when Damon grabbed the chair, since it took his full attention anyway to navigate Damon's explanation. At times Stefan suspected his brother peppered his speech with so many pop culture references and ironic turns of phrase in order to force people to focus on him just to understand what the hell he meant any moment.

Did that answer his question? Not really, and not just because he'd already heard most of this from Claire, but he couldn't hold it against Damon for not knowing more than he did. Apparently not knowing, anyway, but Stefan was willing to give him the benefit of a doubt. Usually when Damon did know something, he was a lot more obnoxious about it.

But one thing was interesting: he'd noticed the weakening of their vampire strength and abilities too. Like Stefan, he must have already determined it couldn't be vervain, which meant... what? Witchcraft? No witch Stefan had ever known had been able to do this, but he'd been on the receiving end of Bonnie's powers before. If a neophyte witch could do that much...

The rest of that thought went out of Stefan's head at Damon's next words. It took less than a second for him to understand what his brother was getting at, and the implication of Elena being manipulated outweighed any other present concerns. Maybe it made him predictable; Stefan didn't care. He stepped over his brother, letting the colourful origami sheet fall from his hand.

"You saw Elena?" he demanded, and only then remembered to lower his voice to an urgent whisper only Damon could hear, even with his predator's hearing dampened. "Why would anyone erase her memories? And who? All the vampires in Mystic Falls are dead now except me and you." Or maybe not. If whatever force which had brought them here had been able to pull them out from the middle of a fire, then it was possible they weren't the only ones. Of course, it still made no sense why anyone would want to save them. "When did you talk to Elena anyway? The last time I saw you..."

He fell silent, realization dawning. Again, he remembered the fear and tension in Claire's young face as she explained about Landel's Institute. Stefan's jaw tightened.

"Is she here?"

[saviored]

Watching the cogs turn in Stefan's head was always an undeniable pleasure. Damon waited, not without some patience, as Stefan went through the requisite questions. Who? What? When? Why? Gasp.

And at last, he hit the jackpot. That didn't take as long as Damon might've expected. Points for Stefan.

"Yup," he replied, drawing out the word. "Obviously. Try to keep up, little brother."

In fact, Elena was right over there. He didn't tell Stefan this, though. He didn't feel like watching an epic reunion scene between his brother and Elena. Anyway, Elena was occupied with a new friend. And it wasn't as if she'd be going anywhere soon. Stefan could find her later.

"I was with her last night," he went on, the phrasing deliberate. His lips curved for the briefest moment. "Since you weren't there. We don't know how or when it happened. I filled her in about Isobel and the fire. The rest, I figured..." He shrugged an easy shoulder. "You could handle it."

Well, he hadn't precisely figured that since he hadn't known Stefan would be around to handle it, but as it played out that way, he might as well use it for an explanation. Either way, they had bigger problems than Elena's missing memories. That was just a symptom. They could fix it and still be no further on their way out of here.

Besides, there was no fixing the missing memories. What was done was done; there was no point in dwelling on it. Or at least, he could let Stefan dwell on it if Stefan wanted. That was his brother's area of expertise. Damon, for his part, had long moved onto seeking the parties responsible so he could...remove a limb or two.

Of course, to do that, he had to sort out what was dampening his senses and reflexes. Adjusting to his lack of anything was grating. It wasn't that he couldn't function as a human; he'd learned to blend in well enough when he had to. He couldn't go around flawlessly catching falling cups with the Council peering over their shoulders for a pair of fangs all the time. The point was that it was never permanent and never not his choice. When things ceased to his choice—that was when he started to take issue.

Whatever. There was time yet. If they were meant to be dead, they wouldn't be wearing their rings. Which meant they were needed for something and while that didn't sit well with Damon, either, it carried its own sort of value. What he couldn't figure out was what they needed Elena for.

Unless she'd been mistaken for Katherine? That was possible—a mistake that they couldn't take back even after they found out how wrong they were.

Except...no, that still didn't explain the missing memories.

[sainted]

If Damon meant to needle him with this phrasing (and seeing how it was Damon, he definitely did), the words found their mark. Stefan's expression, if possible, stiffened further at the implication, but he forced himself to push it aside, crossing his arms as he stared Damon down. While he couldn't deny his insecurity over the strong, inexplicable bond between his dangerous brother and the woman he (they?) loved, his feelings were secondary to Elena's safety. Damon could insinuate and mock him all he liked; Stefan wasn't in the mood to get into it right now.

But it seemed they'd all woken up in this place at the same time, and despite himself, Stefan could at least feel grateful that the first person Elena had run into had been someone familiar. Their night sounded no more eventful or instructive than his, so he didn't bother asking Damon what else he'd learned about Landel's. On this matter, they seemed to be on equal footing. On the matter of Elena...

Why wipe so much time from her memories? It would've been enough to just erase whatever steps had been taken to bring her here, and as far Stefan knew, there was nothing Elena had learned in that time which couldn't be relearned from either of them. And beyond the kidnapping and missing memories, she had to be okay — for all his insouciance, Damon wouldn't have tolerated Elena getting hurt any better than he would. So why bring her here? What did they want with her?

A warning, Stefan thought. A show of power. It was possible. God knew he'd spent enough time trying to interpret the actions of psychopaths bent on making his life hell.

Speaking of, he could practically see the ever-working cogs in his brother's head going in whatever random directions Damon's scheming usually took him. "Could you focus on something important for longer than ten seconds, please?" Stefan demanded, leaning in to catch his attention. "Is Elena alright? What exactly did you tell her about Isobel and the fire?" And how insensitive were you? was left unspoken, but clear enough anyway in his tone.

[saviored]

Sometimes Stefan was such an easy target, Damon would've felt bad if he'd, you know. Been capable of possessing such feelings. Or no, that wasn't quite right. He was capable of feeling bad. It just wasn't worth the effort when it came to Stefan. Neither worth the effort nor deserving of it.

But he was feeling generous right now, so he didn't point out that focusing on his brother took about five percent of his brainpower, and therefore he was free to think about whatever the hell he wanted beyond that. He didn't point out, either, that just because Stefan deemed something important didn't make it so, and that if he'd been paying attention, he wouldn't have to ask if Elena was all right or not. If Elena hadn't been all right, did Stefan really think that Damon would've kept that from him?

Contrary to popular belief, he was capable of putting other people's well-being ahead of his own. Sometimes. When it came to Elena, anyway. He didn't know how he felt about this, suddenly caring for once, but it'd happened. He could get rid of it, but doing so came attached with the knowledge that he'd left something behind. He'd done it before; he knew how it was.

So did Stefan.

Damon let out a breath that suggested that he was tolerating his brother's neurotic tendencies at best. "Don't give me that look. I told her the truth. I'm sure you'd agree that she deserves as much." He could've left it at that, made Stefan work for the information, but...next time. He didn't feel like making his brother homicidal just yet. He did, however, let the pause stretch on for a bit longer than necessary, before continuing.

"I told her that Isobel came into town and that John set a bunch of vampires on fire, but that I narrowly avoided being burnt to a crisp. Thanks to you, of course." He smiled winningly at his brother.

Though he had to say, that'd been unexpected. He didn't think Stefan would've come back for him, but then when Stefan had, he hadn't been surprised, either. It'd made sense, in its own way. He couldn't say how exactly, but it did. And maybe a part of him did know—but he'd never admit, even to himself, that although he had little faith in his brother regarding almost everything, he understood on an instinctual level that Stefan would always turn back for him.

Or he could just. Blame it on the vervain at the time. That stuff did things to your head.

[sainted]

Stefan relaxed, insofar as it was ever possible for him to relax when a situation involved Damon and Elena within breathing distance of each other. It hadn't really been necessary to get verbal confirmation from Damon — for all his other feelings regarding their relationship, Stefan couldn't deny that it was genuine on both sides, and he'd already concluded that Elena wasn't hurt. Still, he'd needed to hear confirmation. Not that he distrusted his brother, exactly, but he could admit he was just human enough sometimes to need pointless reassurance.

Of course, as much as Stefan could see that he was actually trying to be helpful for once, Damon still couldn't resist antagonizing him. But what else was new? Stefan continued to stare calmly at Damon, listening without comment. After all, he'd had over a lifetime to cultivate patience — and thank god for that, since it usually took all 162 years of it to deal with his brother.

But when Damon mentioned the fire, Stefan's impassive expression slipped. He unfolded his arms, then folded them again, trying to figure out how he was supposed to take this. Ninety-percent of anything that ever came out of Damon's mouth was sarcastic, but one of the less enviable benefits of being his younger brother for long was the ability to read the different levels of irony. Damon was thanking him.

"I saved you from the fire," Stefan said slowly, almost as if he needed confirmation on this point. Since the blackout which had preceded the sudden shift to morning, his memories of the fire had faded: the heat, the smoke, the unnatural movement of the flames, the way everything had suddenly faded to black. And more clearly than any of those things, he remembered the fear which had flooded him the moment he'd heard the screaming from the old Gilbert building, and seen John Gilbert standing in front of it. Even though he hadn't heard Damon's voice mixed in with the screams and the crackling of fire, even though John had been confident that Damon was done for...

He shut his eyes for a second. His brother was fine. They were now trapped in some kind of experimental prison facility, sure, but Damon was as bright and annoying as ever. Beyond that, it didn't really matter that Stefan couldn't remember a second past picking him off the floor of a burning basement.

It doesn't matter. "So you left it to me to tell her that Uncle John is her biological father. Again." His voice, when he spoke again, was back to controlled. "I guess I should thank you for that."

[saviored]

When Stefan's expression faltered, so did Damon's a split second later, though perhaps a different kind of confusion—surprise mixed with curiosity. He cocked his head, studying his brother without bothering to hide it. What had caught him off guard? It wasn't the news of the fire; he'd referred to it as the fire which meant he knew precisely what fire Damon was talking about. The fact that they'd both made it out? Was that it? How could Stefan not know? It didn't make any sense.

And yet there it was. If it'd been anyone else, Damon would've been suspicious, but this was Stefan and Stefan wasn't one for playing games. Oh, he tried, sometimes, but his efforts were always far more transparent.

No, this was something else, something that immediately made Damon wary—not of his brother, but on behalf of. Should he pursue it now, though? Stefan didn't appear to willing to delve into it, but what Stefan was or was not willing to do was besides the point. Still, he supposed getting confirmation was pretty redundant when he could suspect well enough.

He'd bring it up later, when the time was more convenient. For him.

As for John—

"Well, it was just—naturally, you're the more sensitive one out of the two of us, so I thought it was only appropriate that you took care of it this time, too. I mean, if you feel you're not up to it, I can certainly take over, but I'm sure you'll be fine. In fact," he said, swinging a leg off the chair and getting up, "I'm going to go leave you alone so you can talk to her now, even, if you want." He peered over his brother's shoulder in mock concentration and pointed. "She's just...right over there."

He shrugged and brushed past Stefan, heading toward the exit where some of the patients were beginning to trickle through.

"Don't know how you missed her."