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This is the web, web that you weave
Who: Katherine Pierce + you; Damon Salvatore
Where: Her home, French's General Store, S&D Automotive, Britches and Hose, Weaver's Bar
When: March 14, all day
What: Guess who has their memories back?
Warnings: Some violence. Will update as needed, otherwise.
You were different from my last but now you got it mirrored
OPEN. Main Street. French's General Store.
And as it all plays out I see it couldn't be clearer
For Damon. S&D Automotive.
Now sing
OPEN. Main Street. Britches and Hose. Weaver's Bar.
Where: Her home, French's General Store, S&D Automotive, Britches and Hose, Weaver's Bar
When: March 14, all day
What: Guess who has their memories back?
Warnings: Some violence. Will update as needed, otherwise.
You were different from my last but now you got it mirrored
OPEN. Main Street. French's General Store.
[ The morning sun is shining over their just lovely backwater town as Katherine pads through the house. The one she shares with two souls who have mutually accepted along with her (maybe grudgingly), that there's so much more to who she is, to her story, than they've exposed. Because, she'll get her memories back. Sooner rather than later, as the days go on. Color her impatient with each passing day.
It happens as she's pulling a bloodbag out, the chilled item falling from her fingers and snugly back in with the others. There's a torrent of information that sweeps over her, fog lifting, reality settling in, and the ache of a life always on the run coating back over her mind. She wanted this back, her life, and now that she has it? She wants to tie the person who ever cut it off from her up by their ankles to watch them bleed out.
Okay. She needs to gather herself, her resolve. First things first: appearances. There's...nothing in the house, other than a few containers of makeup, that she wants. Needs. Slipping into an outfit she's acquired (denim, what the hell), including jeans with a snug fit and lower waistline than most of the atrocities she's seen lately. She snatches up the camisole that's she now remembers using to impersonate Elena, sliding it on and starting outside. Those ankle boots, also Elena-y, get put on too.
She strides down the street, a girl on a mission, the spaghetti straps out of place in winter weather but whatever. There are more important matters to attend to than a breezy walk, so she speeds up to vampire speed to make her way to the town center, stopping out of sight of anyone and casually walking out of an alley.
Popping into the general store, she searches for a beauty section. As if they'll -- oh, there actually is one. Maybe this town won't be as horrendous as it could be. She spies a human shopping in the area and compels them into buying the items she wants. As a gift for her: it is her birthday, after all (it's absolutely not), and the people in this town have wanted to be oh-so welcoming. A curling iron. Lipstick. Products for her hair. A manicure kit (are the people here barbarians, not providing someone with the basic necessities she needs?)
Items in tow, she stops by a clothing store. With the world's least appealing selection. She manages, compelling the shop-hand into thinking how well the outfit suits her, how it was meant for her closet. She heads back to the house in that. Where, the infamous Katherine Pierce comes together, best she can in Wayward Pines. ]
And as it all plays out I see it couldn't be clearer
For Damon. S&D Automotive.
[ There is no game she's intending to play with Damon as she steps into the garage. They both know that Stefan's her favorite to play games with, anyway. Damon, he's always been the more creative ally to have. Plus, there's a hurdle they need to get over here. She's sure his heart is oh-so shattered after mistaking her for Elena (looks like Elena finally made the switch that Katherine could see coming from a mile away; though, how long it'll last, that's another story...that won't play out there -- she hopes Elena Gilbert never actually shows up.) Her ego's getting in the way with how she's presenting herself, putting herself out there for him to be testy over. Again, might as well go in strong and take it as it comes. She doesn't actually need to do this: interrupt his work day. Yet, selfish.
Maybe he'll be relieved that she's back? No more weird Elena-ness. No more attempted soft touches to bridge a gap between them that she can't believe anyone ever made her forget. What's wrong with the people in charge around here? She's back to Katherine. If her being regarded as a psychotic bitch makes for better relations overall, that's a plus in her book. This way, they can stop pretending that Damon doesn't constantly want to rip out her jugular, too.
She's acquired black heels (not the best ones, but they'll do): a chunkier heel than stiletto, but not awful enough that she looks like a goth wannabe reject. They click across the cement floor, legs long and clad in black pants (the closest fit to her own style that the '90s clothing there allows), a dark purple crushed velvet sleeveless top on, generous with the cleavage. Her makeup is done to a tee, that obnoxious pink she came in with her makeup bag set aside for a red bought by their friendly neighborhood friend. Most importantly, her hair is curled, divinely. She thinks she's really outdone herself, toying with the daylight bracelet over her wrist when as she comes up to find Damon working on a car. ] So industrious. You always were, when you put your mind to it. [ There can't be any doubt that her memories are back, not with that confidence in her tone, throaty voice having fully returned. When he first meets her eyes, her brows pop and she adds -- ] Hey roomie. You'll never guess what happened while you were out. [ A smirk, a giggle.
Yep. She sure is back. ]
Now sing
OPEN. Main Street. Britches and Hose. Weaver's Bar.
[ She's scoped out the lay of the land, its residents (both natural and those forcibly immigrated in), in the first two weeks. Yet, Katherine couldn't seek out the sorts of people, of information, that she finds herself drawn to. There was no allure brought out by her full personality, but with her memories back...she's on the hunt for interesting people.
Things go about as she expected them to a la Salvatores. Reality bites sometimes, what can she say? They're stuck there together though, and she knows that both of them simply must have allies around. She's not stalking after either brother that day (she's not stupid.) It's the first day she's reaching out to anyone that doesn't reside under the roof of where she calls home.
Daylight hours still, she finds herself in a lingerie store. Interesting. For all the sexually repressed soccer moms of the '90s, she wonders? She goes along the aisles, a presence about her that says why yes she's interested in speaking to you, if you're in there too. Holding out a black teddy, her head tilts, curls tumbling down over her shoulders as she hums -- does she want it? ...Maybe.
With the fall of night, she finds a bar, and there's only one thing to do at a bar: compel free drinks out of the bartender (who knows if she can, depending on who's working), get people to buy her drinks and/or flirt. All of the above sounds lovely to her, the infectious giggle she has carrying out when she gets her first drink. There is a 100% chance she'll approach you, fellow patron or staff member. Bars are great for meeting people, everyone knows that.
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Gaze turning analyzing, her chin juts to the side with Damon's reply. ] You have changed. [ A beat. ] Don't forget, Damon. I knew you. Before the shame. The guilt. Losing all you held dear. You had a tender heart. Why couldn't that resurface? [ Did Elena bring this out in him: if so, ugh. She shrugs, sighing, as if she isn't speaking sincerely, as if these aren't raw compliments to what she knows of his past human character. ] I don't not believe you. Believe it or not. But, it's a set up, even an unintentional one. How can I not ask what it is, now that I know there's something more to know?
[ A step back toward him, expression turning wry, trying to fight off threatening vulnerability. ] How much do you think this could hurt, Damon? Me. Of all people. The psychotic bitch everyone loves to hate.
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You know you do that to yourself. Your running, your loose ends, stalking us from afar and then coming to claim us, but not liking what you find and making our lives a living hell because of it. [ And Stefan's. He's definitely talking about Stefan's. ] You had a daughter. Her name was Nadia. She was a Traveler. She became a vampire to find you. She found you, ironically, when you were human. She taught you the spell. She died in a bid to get Elena's body back. [ He knew she would ask. Because of tenses. ] Ask me before now I may be the one arguing you don't feel a damn thing, but I think you feel more than all of us. [ And he wanted to spare her this pain. But, again, she asked. ]
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The information he has to share? It's unbelievable. How does a girl without a heart feel hers breaking? Katherine knows that Damon wouldn't have spun this tale on his own. Too many factors, too convoluted. It's not a trick, a trap, a way to purposefully hurt her. For the first time in her life, she wishes it was all three. He tacks on that last part, and it makes her heart ache all the more. Because he's correct.
No hiding the pain: he already knows she's feeling it. It's not the first he's witnessed her in agony, though never anything that cut this emotionally deep. Silent for a long while, her lips working together, she swallows down the ache, several times over.
If the circumstances were different, she might run away from this. She's pulled to not, to stay, to react. What other choice does she have? They're stuck there together. ] I went back. For her. When I thought it would be...safe, to try. But, I couldn't find her. I looked -- everywhere. Every...village. Each home. I thought she'd been killed too. [ She doesn't care if Damon doesn't want to hear any of this. To process, she needs to say it.
There's no true compartmentalization of learning this news, and she averts her face from him when she feels her eyes start to well. ] You met her? [ If kindness exists in the universe, this is when Katherine needs it the most. ] Did she hate me too? [ For she knows how quickly people who loathe her come to mutually realizing it, how bonds against her are effortlessly forged.
She asks, working to picture what her daughter, Nadia, looked like. No eye contact with Damon. She just, can't. ]
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She hadn't. I don't know where she ended up, but Matt Donovan crossed paths with her in Europe. Also with Rebekah. [ Which is so far out of what this is about, but she keeps coming up. ] She helped you. She maintained. She erased Elena completely when she kept emerging. For you. [ He's not even saying this with disdain. He's saying it with compassion.
If he were more compassionate he'd offer what he'd offered Kathlena, and if she asked him, asked to go into her head, to bring what he remembers of Nadia out, he would. She asked the worst question she could ask, but he knew she'd hound him until he answered. ] I didn't know her well. And we didn't know she existed until after you were in Elena. [ But, what he can do. What he suspects. ] She loved you, Katherine.
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Face still cast down, she absorbs. Clinging to each detail, bitter over the notion of her daughter meeting someone she hates who returns the feeling in equal measure. Instead of her. Was it part of Nadia's process to find her mother? Katherine will never know. Damon selflessly recounting details that she knows have affected him deeply isn't lost on her. She hears the kindness, the subtle sympathy carrying through his words. Has it really taken being brought to that town for them to come to a place where real caring is remotely expressed and accepted?
When he confirms having met Nadia, that's when Katherine's eyes flick back up, tears still threatening. She doesn't react more than making eye contact, face averting back down when he tells her that her daughter loved her. Tears fall, the corners of her mouth pulling up in a grief. A loss she acknowledged so long ago, coming back to haunt her, tenfold. ] You saw her. [ By instinct, she steps ahead, still focusing on concrete. His sharing of memories with her while she was stuck in her mind fog is still fresh. ] Would you show me? [ There's compassion from him, and she's already lifting a hand out to him. ] I need to know. To see her, at least once. [ A long beat. ] Please, Damon.
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[ He steps toward her, taking her hand. ] I apologize for the lead-up. [ His head tilts downward. ] I promise my neck gets broken if it's any consolation. [ It's cruel, yes needlessly, but to get to what he knows she may want to hear, he needs to show it all. Because he can't do this on a whim. It's been years. And the clearer thought is the mind manipulation, but Nadia appears, and Katherine deflects, in a bid to throw him and everyone else off the scent of her new plan she formulates.
There's a better memory, one this Damon should have pulled first, and maybe there's that deep, dark part of him that drips with disdain, but like Katherine Damon isn't unfeeling. And Katherine hasn't done the worst of the worst just yet, other than everything with him and Stefan, and Elena round 1.
He's going to regret this, the intimacy, but her reminding him of Elena, someone he hasn't seen in months, someone he's going to marry one day when he's done with the Krystal with a K's of the world.
Moving ever closer, his hand comes to the side of her head, resting gently, cutting through the tears that fall, bringing one last memory forward.
One that is every bit as compassionate as he may have ever been. Maybe it's this town. Maybe it's what he said to Caroline, that all they have is each other. But, Katherine never deserved any of it, not from the beginning. He'll still hate her. But, he may hate her less. It always did ebb and flow. ]
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There's that apology and assurance of getting what's coming to him, and the context that's painted fills her with an inexplicable dread. She didn't think he was lying, but seeing herself in the state she is, it's insane. It hurts her, but she wouldn't have wanted him to stop showing her.
Then, there she is. The face, the eyes, the curls that are as unfamiliar as they resonate on a personal level with Katherine. The accent, the words shared, the scene that Damon barely observes. This isn't the memory she'll want to remember, but her own words? Those affect her, and she knows they'll continue to. Even she's surprised at the notion of putting someone else first, after all this time.
What happened between herself and this daughter that caused them to be able to rekindle a relationship? What did she ever do to earn the love of her child? She was weak as a human and gave up too soon as a vampire. See. Even Katherine can feel guilt.
The tears that shed are unstoppable, and it's impossible for her to care that one of the people who has viewed her as nemesis in the past is now seeing her at her most vulnerable.
Then, Katherine obviously in Elena's body, an event she actually believes did happen, comforting her daughter with words that tear at her soul.
When that memory fades, a sob wrenches out of her and looks like she actually can lean on Damon for support. Because he's helped her more than she deserves in the time she's been there. She falls against his chest, face going into the crook of his heck, arms at her sides. It's not so much seeking an embrace, but a natural reaction to that death, that promise that she loved Nadia.
She did. Does. Against him as she is, another scene plays and with the contact they're making, she assumes. There's more. How is there more?!
She's always been a step ahead of him, emotionally, mentally, looking back to check on him with that same coy expression. Or, she thinks she has, that she's more mature, and that's okay. That Damon lets her shine is part of the reason she's always loved him. She's literally physically ahead of him in that moment, turning around to walk backward with a sway in her step as they come up to the stomping grounds they've made the most memories: or, that's what it feels like. High school leaves an impression on you, and they're still so close to those years that, sometimes, she feels like they should still be going to classes every day. Stopping, reaching out to take his hand, they're walking in a path off the sidewalk, onto a trodden one of dirt and grass. They've been here too many times to count, approaching a grove of trees.
Full moon shining overhead and casting a bright light over them, the memory speeds to her suddenly seeing Damon on one knee, presenting a ring to her, and with hands clasped over her mouth, tears springing from her eyes, all she can think, say, is YES.
It fades, and she immediately pushes Damon back, away from her, no real force behind in with the upheavel of emotion. ] Wha--why. That isn't funny, Damon. [ Great, she's still crying, and now he's going to laugh at her for being stupid enough to ever trust him. ]
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"If we've lasted this long, I think it's safe to say you and I are in it for the long haul. We met here, in these halls. And maybe one day our children will meet the people they love in those halls."
He stands, she jumps into his arms.
His eyes are wide, his brow rises, his look of confusion should be evident. ] Katherine. That wasn't me. That was this - [ His eyes close, familiar rage (familiar to Katherine) bubbling up. ] Town. [ His eyes flash. ] We get... flashes. Like prom. [ He shakes his head. This timing takes cake. ] Katherine, I'm sorry. [ And maybe that's for everything. For this accidental memory. For that first memory. ] I hate this town.
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At first, she doesn't know what to believe, and she loathes that her chest starts to quickly rise and fall in awkward hiccups of nervous emotion that she can't fight off. This is not a set of emotions that Katherine is accustom to letting herself feel, especially not around someone else.
He's explaining, though her eyes bounce back and forth to meet his, to look instead at any other thing than him until he mentions prom. The emotion starts to steady, and Damon Salvatore apologizes to her. It should be about as absurd as her earlier, days before, apologies to him. It's not. Without this event? She would've been spiteful over how she acted, like a puppy begging for approval when she spouted off apologies for doing what was natural to her: pretending to be Elena.
Now, this connection that's shaped a bizarre similarity that's screaming at them to feel like a bond, causing them both to fully, sincerely hate the town, it makes her indifferent to certain matters.
Still doubtful, hurt, pained, suspicious (though not directed at him), she steps back over to Damon. ] That's...fair doesn't matter. I hate this place. But...Damon. [ Aching still registers over her features, but her tone is on the straight and narrow as she gives him a serious look, reaching over to place her palm over his shoulder. ] We can't let it win. Whatever it is. You may not want to, but -- we could be stronger. Together. Whenever we find out more [ about what it is, and she hopes her meaning is clear. ] If we're on the same side, it...goes without saying, doesn't it? [ How much they can achieve. ]
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I think today's proven that we're not the people we've always been, or that we've come off as. We're both ogres with layers. [ Shut up, Elena likes Shrek. (He also doesn't hate Shrek. It has a good story.) Damon's never denied being the ogre, Katherine would definitely be Fiona, an ogre at night, by secret, in true form.
And he doesn't trust her farther than he could throw her, not if it comes down to her life or his. Because she will always choose hers. But until it gets dire, and this is the first time where Damon thinks that it has to, that it will, he can accept whatever's happened today. ]
I need a drink.
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She lets out a laugh, air from her nose and the sound otherwise cut off in her throat over the analogy he creates. Does she have time for animated movies? No, but she gets what he's saying, even without caring about the names, the specifics, the plots of the franchise. ] We both know how far action goes rather than words, and I bet we'll both be proving that's true. To one another. Maybe other people we both...trust. [ Stefan. She knows a certain blonde is around too, not that she and Caroline have any degree of like, much less trust, for one another. They'll see what happens. ] Definition of that word pending. [ She gives him a wink.
There's Katherine. Eyes still radiating with pain, but letting it roll off her shoulders as quickly as possible. ]
Let's. Here? Or. Bar? [ Her head tilts. ]
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[ Damon would like to forget it all, too. It's a lot, even for him. Watching himself torture her, watching her say goodbye to her daughter, Katherine sobbing into his shoulder. No, this is all going into the vault. ]
Bar. Here's -- [ Emotional. ] Stefan can finish the oil change.
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Katherine's already setting certain memories back into the recesses of her mind.
That earns another nod, a glance at the car. ] You... [ her lips purse, sighing as she looks down at her shirt, giving an amused huff ] I'll go get changed. Meet you there? [ Maybe he has something he needs to attend to, too; or, maybe they would do better with a fifteen or so minute break apart. Heavy feel to the air, after all. ] Or, beat you there. [ Why not be playful? She's off, not waiting for an answer, dashing away. ]
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Katherine beats Damon Salvatore. Again. [ Oh look, his titular smirk. ] Not that I had any skin in the game. [ He doesn't mention the bag. It's his silent gesture, a token of their truce.
Better than the moment the two of them may never publicly or even privately acknowledge. ] Think people here know we're engaged?
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She grabs the bag, looking inside and grinning at him. A glass of bourbon is pushed his way. ] It comes naturally, what can I say?
[ At that question, her brows rise. ] I don't know, but about that. Damon. I -- need to show you something. [ To which she brings one of her hands over toward him, hovering over the bar, closed at first, opening to reveal a simple band. ] I found it, in a drawer in my nightstand, when I was back at the house. [ She slips it on on her ring finger. Perfect fit. ] I think...it's more than just -- engaged. [ Her lips purse down a little. ] Where the engagement ring is, your guess is as good as mine. [ Could fake him have afforded a diamond ring as a token of their commitment though? The memory was fuzzy on that part. ]
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At that he does turn, his eyebrows raising, what else could she have found out today. Don't tell him, they're planning a June wedding.
Taken aback, he leans in the other direction, just instinctively. He signed on for a truce, not for a marriage in progress. ]
Great, so in UnPleasantville, we're married. [ He downs his entire drink in that moment. To the bartender, he brings his pointer finger up and points down. ] Keep 'em coming. Long overdue celebration. [ "That is you, Mrs. Salvatore. It's good to see you again." He gestures for him to keep pouring, the Mrs. Salvatore grating in the wrong ways, there should only be one - or two, if Caroline and Stefan ever straighten things out, maybe they have... He downs the glass as soon as the bartender tips back the bottle. ] Christ.
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Honestly? Being a Mrs. Salvatore? Should come with a marriage to Stefan, not Damon. Which she's not saying. They both know she'd think it, naturally, impulsively, but she won't be rude.
She downs her entire glass, motioning for another. Looking up to the ceiling, she finally focuses back on Damon. ] I didn't know if it was actually, really true. God, Damon. How... [ her shoulders slump, word trailing off into a pause. ] What're we...do we do anything? With, about, this?
[ For once, she's flabbergasted. ]
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[ It's a far cry from the emotions of only an hour or so ago, but those are long gone for the time being. Maybe forever. With what they learn, more questions keep arising. It's one thing to remember random friends, and clients, even growing up here, but having a different life. ]
You realize that you and Stefan are probably sneaking around behind my back. [ It's not even an accusation. Seriously. It's more, a, of course this is how it would be. ] How is it us?
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Glass brought to her lips when he says that, taking the statement to include more unkind words; until his tone actually sinks in. Taking a longer drink before she lets it settle back on the bar, she sighs in frustration. ] Do you think he'll remember anything about this? Have you remembered going to school with him too? Because I haven't. What if... [ she leans over to him, whispering ] there's a lack of consistency.
[ Her back goes straight. ] Are we gonna tell him? About this? Serious question, Damon. No attitude, no matter how pissed off I sound. [ A beat. ] I'm not upset at you.
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There is. Stefan's notions stay more vague, while I have nice vivid memories about long lunches at a deli called Lamargochino's. [ Or, something like that. ] There's no reasoning behind any one memory, muscle or otherwise. [ They just come. ]
And I'm a little upset with you, but, that's my default setting. [ More honesty. ] I already talked to him, he knows we're at least engaged.
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[ Some days, she may care specifically about listening in purposefully because they're talking about Stefan. She asked about him so she and Damon would be on the same page, though, experience gathering. Holding onto all he says, her lips thin with the conclusion he draws. A faint chuckle at his being somewhat upset with her, eyes nearly rolling in quiet amusement. Finally, a nod. ]
The memories. I'm basing what I think off what's happened with you both, since you've been -- aware [ actual eye roll ] of being here longer than me. It's...weird, that it's so different.
[ Stefan knows, and she nibbles slightly at her bottom lip, considering asking what the younger Salvatore had to say. She meets Damon's eyes. It's a selfish question, and she'll find out later. This day? Them, there. It can be about just them. If they're gonna do the ally thing and mean it, she needs to put more heart into it. She picks her glass up again, not drinking from it, making the liquid swirl ] Good. It's...weird, but not a secret. [ A glance at the bartender, eyes widening. ] Obviously.
[ Her eyes narrow at Damon slightly, smirk starting to form. ] So, Mr. Salvatore. [ She ain't sorry, suddenly. ] Think your wife [ she makes a face ] can out drink you? [ Embrace the story or live in misery? ]
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Only thing you can base it off. [ Not anyone else. Not right now. ]
Obviously.
[ Right. Why they're here. ] Only one way to find out. [ He too raises his glass to her. ]
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She brings hers over to his clink them together, not abashed that they aren't toasting anything, taking a sip. ] We could get creative with it, too. Play a...game. The harmless kind. [ She's quick to add that. ] Since this place keeps trying to force youth on us, how about -- two truths and a lie, [ she whispers -- ] future edition. [ They're already breaking rules, right? ] About, me. [ Her shoulder rises. ] I pick the wrong lie, I drink. Right, then you do. [ How about it, Damon? ]
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Canada. Hm. [ She wants to know more about this original doppelganger, but she also wants to win (everyone's a winner in a drinking game!) Her eyes narrow slightly. ] The cold one. There's no way I said that. [ ...Right? Since all humans get sick!! ]
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