[Location: The Cross Residence – Bathroom] [Time: 5:30 AM – The Morning After]
Pain is a clarifying agent. It strips away the noise and leaves only the signal.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the harsh overhead light humming. I peeled back the gauze on my shoulder. The bite was ugly—two puncture wounds, inflamed and purple at the edges, surrounded by a faint, chemical burn where the vervain in my blood had scorched Vicki's saliva.
It throbbed with a dull, rhythmic heat.
I didn't flinch. I cleaned it with peroxide, watching the white foam bubble up red.
Status Report: Physical Health: Compromised (90%). Cover Story: Blown (Stefan knows). Asset Status: Vicki Donovan is in transition (likely at the Boarding House). Logan Fell is MIA (presumed dead).
I couldn't hide anymore. Stefan had seen me fight a vampire. He had seen the vervain reaction. If I waited for him to come to me, I was on the defensive. I would be the "suspicious new kid" he might have to compel or intimidate.
But if I went to him? If I walked into the lion's den voluntarily? That changed the dynamic. It made me a partner, not a victim.
I opened my medicine cabinet. I bypassed the toothpaste and reached for the false bottom I had installed in a box of Band-Aids.
I pulled out the Gilbert Watch.
I slipped it into my pocket. Then I grabbed the vial of Vervain Extract. I downed a double dose. It tasted like battery acid and dirt. I suppressed the gag reflex, feeling the burn settle in my stomach.
I dressed carefully. A dark grey button-down (hides blood, looks professional), stiff collar, sleeves rolled down to cover the bandage.
"Time to negotiate the merger," I whispered to my reflection.
[Location: The Salvatore Boarding House – Exterior] [Time: 6:45 AM]
The Salvatore Estate was a masterpiece of Gothic Revival architecture, imposing and ancient, hidden away at the end of a long, winding gravel driveway. The early morning fog clung to the grounds, obscuring the tree line.
I parked my Jeep near the front gate. I wanted to walk the rest of the way. It gave me time to clear my head.
The house loomed ahead. It smelled of old money—damp cedar, wet stone, and secrets.
I walked up the stone steps. The massive oak door had a heavy brass knocker in the shape of a lion's head.
I didn't knock.
I checked the watch in my pocket. It was buzzing steadily. Buzz. Buzz. Multiple targets inside. Stefan. Vicki. Maybe Damon.
I raised my hand and knocked three times. Firm. Authoritative.
Silence.
Then, the door creaked open.
Damon Salvatore stood there. He was wearing a black shirt, unbuttoned halfway, holding a glass of blood-red liquid (likely actual blood, given the time of day). He looked annoyed.
"Well," Damon drawled, leaning against the doorframe. "If it isn't the Junior Detective. Do you have a death wish, or did you just get lost on your way to the library?"
"I'm here to see Stefan," I said calmly. My heart was hammering, but my voice was steady. "Is he up? Or is he still dealing with the mess from the cemetery?"
Damon's eyes narrowed. The playful mask slipped for a fraction of a second. "You're bold for a human with a chew toy wound on his shoulder. I can smell the peroxide from here."
"And I can smell the bourbon," I countered. "Can I come in?"
Damon stared at me. He was debating whether to kill me or let the drama play out. He stepped aside, sweeping his arm in a mock-welcoming gesture.
"Enter at your own peril."
I stepped across the threshold.
Invited.
The interior was cavernous. High ceilings, Persian rugs that cost more than my car, and the smell of dust and old leather. It was darker inside than out, the curtains drawn against the morning sun.
"Stefan!" Damon shouted, his voice echoing through the hall. "The Boy Wonder is here to surrender!"
Stefan appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked wrecked. He was wearing a grey t-shirt, his hair messy. He looked at me, and his expression hardened.
"Adrian," Stefan said, descending the stairs quickly. "I told you to go home last night."
"And I did," I said. "Now I'm back. We need to talk, Stefan. No more gaslighting. No more 'mountain lions'."
Stefan reached the bottom of the stairs. He stopped three feet from me. He was analyzing me—my posture, my pulse, my eyes.
"You had vervain in your system," Stefan said quietly. "Vicki bit you, and it burned her."
"Yes," I said.
"And you knew what she was."
"Yes."
Damon chuckled from the living room, pouring himself a drink. "Ooh, the plot thickens. The kid's a hunter. Did Daddy teach you to carve stakes?"
"I'm not a hunter," I said, looking at Damon, then back to Stefan. "I'm a pragmatist. Can we sit down? My shoulder is killing me."
Stefan hesitated, then gestured to the parlor. "In here."
[Location: The Parlor] [Time: 7:00 AM]
I sat in a wingback chair. Stefan sat opposite me on the sofa. Damon perched on the arm of the sofa, looking like a vulture waiting for scraps.
"Start talking," Stefan said.
This was it. The lie that would define my existence in this universe.
"My grandfather," I began. It was a classic trope, but effective. "He was... eccentric. He grew up in Virginia, near the border. He used to tell me stories about the 'Cold Ones.' People who walked in the sunlight but didn't sweat. People who drank blood."
I paused, letting the story land.
"I thought they were just ghost stories," I continued. "Until I moved here. Until I saw the animal attacks. Until I saw you."
I looked at Stefan.
"You catch a football like it has no mass. You healed a cut on your hand in history class in three minutes. And your brother..." I nodded at Damon. "He has a crow that follows him around like a GPS drone."
Damon smirked. "I like this kid. He pays attention."
"So I did some research," I said. "I looked up the folklore. Vervain. Wood. Sunlight. I made a tea from the herbs I found near the old church ruins. I drank it. Just in case."
"Smart," Stefan murmured. "Dangerous, but smart."
"And then last night," I said, leaning forward. "Vicki Donovan hissed at me. Her eyes turned black. She tried to eat me. That wasn't a drug trip, Stefan. She's transitioning."
The room went silent.
Stefan looked at Damon. Damon shrugged.
"He knows the lingo, too," Damon said. "Transitioning."
"I read a lot," I said.
"So what do you want?" Stefan asked, his voice guarded. "Are you going to the Council? Are you going to the Sheriff?"
"No," I said firmly.
"Why not?"
"Because the Sheriff is incompetent," I said bluntly. "And because if I tell the Council, they'll start a witch hunt. Innocent people will get hurt. And you..." I pointed at Stefan. "You saved me last night. You stopped her. You could have let her kill me to hide the secret, but you didn't."
I stood up, wincing slightly as my shoulder pulled.
"I don't want to expose you, Stefan. I want to survive. And right now, this town is a war zone. I'd rather be on the side of the guys who have superpowers."
I held out my hand.
"I keep your secret. You keep me alive. That's the deal."
Stefan looked at my hand. He looked at my face. He saw fear, yes, but he also saw resolve. He saw a human who was trying to gain some agency in a world of monsters.
Stefan stood up. He shook my hand. His grip was cool and firm.
"Deal," Stefan said.
"Boring," Damon groaned, standing up. "I was hoping for a chase scene."
Damon zoomed—blurring across the room—and stopped inches from my face. I flinched, but I didn't back down.
"If you talk," Damon whispered, his eyes dancing with malice. "If you so much as whisper the V-word to Elena... I will turn you into a human Capri Sun. Capiche?"
"Loud and clear," I said.
Damon patted my cheek—hard. "Good boy."
"Now," I said, stepping back. "Where is Vicki?"
Stefan's expression darkened. "She's in the basement. I'm trying to help her finish the transition without killing anyone."
"She fed?" I asked.
"No," Stefan said. "She has to feed on human blood to complete the turn. If she doesn't feed by tonight... she dies."
"And you're going to let her die?" I asked.
"I'm going to try to get her to choose," Stefan said. "To choose death over this life. It's... mercy."
I looked at Stefan. He was so noble. So naive. Vicki was a drug addict with abandonment issues. She wouldn't choose death. She would choose the high.
"Can I see her?" I asked.
"No," Stefan said immediately. "She's volatile. She smells your blood. It would provoke her."
"Fair enough," I said. "But Stefan... be careful. She's not thinking like you. She's an addict. She'll say anything to get what she wants."
[Location: The Basement – The Cellar] [Time: 7:30 AM]
Stefan walked me to the door, but I asked to use the restroom. I used the opportunity to sneak toward the heavy wooden door under the stairs.
I could hear her.
Scritch. Scritch.
"Let me out!" Vicki's voice was muffled, desperate. "I need to pee! I need a fix! Come on, Stefan, don't be a dick!"
I stood by the door.
In the canon, Vicki escapes. She feeds. She becomes a unstable vampire, tries to kill Elena, and Stefan has to stake her.
If I intervened now... could I change that?
If I opened the door, she kills me. If I gave her blood... she turns.
I touched the wood.
"Vicki," I whispered.
The scratching stopped. "Who's that? Matt?"
"It's Adrian," I said.
"Adrian!" she sobbed. "Adrian, help me! Stefan is crazy! He locked me in here! I'm sick, I need a doctor!"
"You're not sick, Vic," I said softly. "You died. You're waking up as something else."
"What are you talking about?" she snapped. "Just open the door!"
"I can't," I said.
"Then go to hell!" she screamed. She slammed her body against the door. The wood groaned.
I stepped back.
She was too far gone. There was no "saving" Vicki Donovan. She was the tragedy that had to happen to wake the others up.
I walked back to the foyer.
[Location: The Foyer] [Time: 7:45 AM]
Stefan was waiting for me.
"I heard you by the basement door," he said. Vampires hearing. Right.
"I just wanted to hear her," I said. "She sounds... strong."
"She is," Stefan said. "It's the blood Damon gave her. It was potent."
"About Damon," I said, lowering my voice. "And the reporter. Logan Fell."
Stefan stiffened. "What about him?"
"He came to my house last night," I said. "He looked sick. Paranoid. He tried to get jenna to invite him in. I... I think he was turning too."
Stefan ran a hand through his hair. "Damon. He must have fed on him."
"He's gone now," I said. "I saw him drive out of town. But Stefan... if there's another one out there..."
"I'll handle it," Stefan promised. "Adrian, go to school. Be normal. Let me handle the monsters."
"Okay," I said. "But Stefan? One tip."
"Yeah?"
"Vicki trusts Matt," I said. "If you want to reach her... you might need him. Even if you have to lie to him."
Stefan nodded thoughtfully.
I opened the front door. The sun was fully up now, burning off the fog.
"See you in History," I said.
I walked to my Jeep.
I got in, closed the door, and let out a long, shaky breath.
My hands were trembling.
I had done it. I had negotiated the treaty. I was officially "In the Know."
But as I drove down the winding driveway, I saw something in the rearview mirror.
Damon was standing on the roof of the Boarding House, watching me leave. He wasn't smiling.
He knew I was holding something back. He knew the "Grandfather Story" was too convenient.
Level 2 unlocked, I thought. The Game against Damon.
[Location: Mystic Falls High School – The Courtyard] [Time: 12:00 PM]
The world kept turning, even if mine had stopped.
I sat on the steps, eating an apple. Elena sat next to me.
"You're quiet today," she said.
"Shoulder hurts," I lied. "Slept on it wrong."
"Have you heard from Jeremy?" she asked. "He's worried about Vicki. Matt says she's missing."
I looked at Elena. The protagonist. The Doppelganger. The cause of all this mess. She looked so innocent.
"I'm sure she'll turn up," I said. "She's Vicki. She probably just crashed somewhere."
Elena sighed. "I hope so. Jeremy really likes her."
"Elena," I said, turning to her. "If... hypothetically... you found out something really bad about someone you cared about. Would you want to know? Even if it changed everything?"
Elena looked at me, puzzled. "Like what? Like a secret?"
"Like a life-changing secret."
Elena thought for a moment. "Yes. I'd want the truth. Always."
Liar, I thought. You think you want the truth. But when you find out your boyfriend is a 160-year-old walking corpse, you're going to freak out.
"Good policy," I said.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
Text from Stefan: She escaped. Stay inside tonight.
I stared at the screen.
Vicki was out. She was hungry. And tonight was the Halloween Party at the school.
The canon timeline was converging. Tonight, Vicki would attack Elena. Stefan would stake her. Jeremy would witness it. Elena would ask Stefan to compel Jeremy.
I put the phone away.
I couldn't stay inside.
I had to be there. Not to save Vicki—she was doomed. But to ensure the Clean Up happened correctly.
And to steal something from the scene.
I stood up.
"Where are you going?" Elena asked.
"I forgot my costume," I said. "Gotta go home and get changed."
"Costume?"
"Yeah," I smiled grimly. "I'm going as a Corporate Lawyer. The scariest thing I could think of."
I walked toward the parking lot.
The sun was shining, but I felt the cold shadow of the coming night.
Objective for Tonight: 1. Secure the site. 2. Collect Vicki's blood (post-transition). 3. Ensure Jeremy gets compelled.
The Salaryman was clocking in for overtime.
[End of Chapter 14]