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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[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."