[This isn't sob story hour. She's not going to get into it.]
And it's not torture, exactly. The cot he's currently sitting on is very much out of the way of direct sunlight. So long as he stays where he is, he's perfectly safe.
I wasn't calling you the torturer. We all have our unavoidable extracurriculars.
( Some things are meant to be done. )
And like all siblings, Stefan and I have had our ups and our down, but it always circles back to him and me. The good, the bad, the jailed. Both of us, several times, usually being the jailer.
To be fair, we each deserved every time we were locked up. We needed to be. I bind you, Salvatore, ( he goes into Liz's old drawer and pulls one more glass out, setting it down next to his. ) from doing harm. Harm against other people. ( He pours some whiskey into a glass for Lindsay ) And harm against yourself. ( and then into the glass closest to herself.
[Sure, she'll give it a clink. Then she'll put it back down again. She's on the job, and while Slayers don't stay drunk for long, they still do feel the effects if it's strong enough. Damon's welcome to all the whiskey he wants, though.
Before she can comment on that, however, she catches the sound of movement from downstairs, as the door to the basement is open.]
( He shrugs, pouring her glass into his and taking a healthy sip, pausing mid-way. Because. Yep. He heard him, too. He tips the rest back in one big gulp before tearing out of the chair, ready to follow Lindsay down. See what state his brother is in. )
He's not on the cot, he's on the floor, his back pressed against he shadows of the wall and staring into the pit of sunlight in front of him. There is the slightest hint of burned flesh in the air, and there are still-healing blisters on the back of his hand, but fortunately for Damon, Stefan isn't feeling self-flagellating enough to immolate himself on the altar of his grief.
But he's still not great.
It's one thing to gradually turn your emotions back on. But when it's the matter of a weight that had been sitting on that switch suddenly and completely releases, it's a lot to take in at once. And part of him just wants to turn it back off again, and bury his head in the sand, but he can't. Not yet.
Almost as though he doesn't want to let himself.
He looks up at the sound of footsteps, and he meets his brother's eyes across the way and he doesn't know what to say. What is there left to say?]
Sleeping Beauty's awake. Or, Snow White. I feel like all the fairy tale princesses were asleep at some point or another.
( He doesn't hesitate, even if Stefan is off the rails, to hold his ring up between two fingers to show him he has it. Reaching the bars, he crouches down and then tosses the ring past the barrier of light. )
Turns out Lindsay Miller here is a cop and a slayer, not the band. So, don't feel too bad about yourself right now. Not that you feel bad about anything, but we're going to work on that.
[The ring lands on the floor next to him, but Stefan doesn't reach for it. He doesn't even make a sign of moving, though his eyes drift past Damon to Lindsay and he manages a brief and almost brittle:]
I'm sorry. For ... about the car.
[Which may say a lot about what Stefan is or isn't feeling right now.]
[Lindsay nods, before stepping back to go see what she can do about that. "I'll go make a call." And she'll call Beck, just to be on the safe side. She wants her people to get to Dorian first, before someone can try to talk him into saying something else. As much as she's playing nice with Damon right now, she still doesn't trust him.
So ring ring Beck phone while Damon can continue to figure out what's going on with his brother.]
[The bars do not budge much when he tugs on them, and they may have a little bit of a sizzle, almost as though dried vervain was mixed in with the iron.]
He said I was causing more problems than progress, and he had no more use for me.
[Stefan's voice still seems detached, distant. Like he's still processing.
Lindsay sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm gonna send you the coordinates of where I picked up Stefan. I think Damon said his name was Dorian. Black guy, young if "intern" is anything to go by."]
[Stefan nods, his eyes drifting away from his brother and staring back into the patch of sunlight again.]
How's Bonnie?
[Because he knows she's not okay, and he knows that she doesn't want to be anywhere near him, that he could apologize, but it wouldn't change anything. He's probably lost her forever as a friend.
Lindsay rambles off the address, and then sighs. "I'll stay here with the Salvatores. Let me know what you find."]
[He nods slowly, tipping her head back against the wall. He'll have to find a way to apologize. There's no fixing it. And then he remembers that Enzo, once, was also his brother's best friend and he looks at Damon again.]
I'm sorry.
[Lindsay shakes her head before remembering that she's on the phone. "No, I'm okay. Worry about Dorian first and call me when you have an update."]
[Stefan doesn't think Bonnie will forgive him for this one, for taking her happiness away that she had worked so hard to cultivate. He's sure that this is the last straw in a long of broken straws.
But this is also fresh off a bender Stefan so maybe Damon's right. Or maybe Damon is telling him what he wants to hear.]
What do you make of her?
[A nice neutral topic of conversation.
Lindsay may like it when he calls her "love" but that's not something she's going to admit to on the phone. Nope, she squashes that down and just says her goodbyes and hangs up the phone and makes her way back towards the cell.]
She's professional. Practical. Knows disposing of you would've made bigger problems for her. Need to do more research on slaying, but. She's not unreasonable, somehow.
( Damon turns back to her. )
Can you make quick work of this. Stefan is back in the building.
Hey, hey, you don't know what Stefan wants. Besides, Dorian alive and in one piece. Which clues you in, doesn't it. ( he turns back to his brother. ) Put on the ring, Stefan.
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( Don't throw him across the room, what fun would that be. )
Fire. Sun. Torture. Just add happy to it. Sibling troubles?
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[This isn't sob story hour. She's not going to get into it.]
And it's not torture, exactly. The cot he's currently sitting on is very much out of the way of direct sunlight. So long as he stays where he is, he's perfectly safe.
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( Some things are meant to be done. )
And like all siblings, Stefan and I have had our ups and our down, but it always circles back to him and me. The good, the bad, the jailed. Both of us, several times, usually being the jailer.
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[She tips her head to the side with a smirk.]
Ever considered family therapy? Might work better than locking each other up all the time.
[But on that note, perception check Damon.]
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He holds his glass up. Clink? )
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Before she can comment on that, however, she catches the sound of movement from downstairs, as the door to the basement is open.]
Sounds like your brother's awake.
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He's not on the cot, he's on the floor, his back pressed against he shadows of the wall and staring into the pit of sunlight in front of him. There is the slightest hint of burned flesh in the air, and there are still-healing blisters on the back of his hand, but fortunately for Damon, Stefan isn't feeling self-flagellating enough to immolate himself on the altar of his grief.
But he's still not great.
It's one thing to gradually turn your emotions back on. But when it's the matter of a weight that had been sitting on that switch suddenly and completely releases, it's a lot to take in at once. And part of him just wants to turn it back off again, and bury his head in the sand, but he can't. Not yet.
Almost as though he doesn't want to let himself.
He looks up at the sound of footsteps, and he meets his brother's eyes across the way and he doesn't know what to say. What is there left to say?]
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( He doesn't hesitate, even if Stefan is off the rails, to hold his ring up between two fingers to show him he has it. Reaching the bars, he crouches down and then tosses the ring past the barrier of light. )
Turns out Lindsay Miller here is a cop and a slayer, not the band. So, don't feel too bad about yourself right now. Not that you feel bad about anything, but we're going to work on that.
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I'm sorry. For ... about the car.
[Which may say a lot about what Stefan is or isn't feeling right now.]
Did you find Dorian?
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( Because, it sounded sincere even. )
When we find him, what state are we going to find him in? We will need your coordinates, by the way. Poor kid might be freezing to death.
( Here's hoping. )
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[His eyes glance briefly to Lindsay again.]
Not far from where you picked me up.
[Lindsay nods, before stepping back to go see what she can do about that. "I'll go make a call." And she'll call Beck, just to be on the safe side. She wants her people to get to Dorian first, before someone can try to talk him into saying something else. As much as she's playing nice with Damon right now, she still doesn't trust him.
So ring ring Beck phone while Damon can continue to figure out what's going on with his brother.]
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(Needed something with impact. )
How you feeling? You seem less... combative.
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Eventually, he manages to wrench out:]
He let me go.
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( He tests the bar strength as he asks the question, knows he needs Lindsay back.
Meanwhile, Beck pinches the bridge of his nose. "Graveyard where, Lindsey? And who?" )
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He said I was causing more problems than progress, and he had no more use for me.
[Stefan's voice still seems detached, distant. Like he's still processing.
Lindsay sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm gonna send you the coordinates of where I picked up Stefan. I think Damon said his name was Dorian. Black guy, young if "intern" is anything to go by."]
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( Because he can tell. Damon does let go of the bars at the sizzle.
Beck rummages around. "Alive or dead, okay, I have a pencil." )
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How's Bonnie?
[Because he knows she's not okay, and he knows that she doesn't want to be anywhere near him, that he could apologize, but it wouldn't change anything. He's probably lost her forever as a friend.
Lindsay rambles off the address, and then sighs. "I'll stay here with the Salvatores. Let me know what you find."]
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( They've all been there, haven't they? Lexi, Andie.
"Do you need backup at the station?" )
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I'm sorry.
[Lindsay shakes her head before remembering that she's on the phone. "No, I'm okay. Worry about Dorian first and call me when you have an update."]
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( And she may hate him less.
Lindsay! "Will do, love," he starts. "Habit. Irish. Lindsay. I'll be in touch." )
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But this is also fresh off a bender Stefan so maybe Damon's right. Or maybe Damon is telling him what he wants to hear.]
What do you make of her?
[A nice neutral topic of conversation.
Lindsay may like it when he calls her "love" but that's not something she's going to admit to on the phone. Nope, she squashes that down and just says her goodbyes and hangs up the phone and makes her way back towards the cell.]
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( Damon turns back to her. )
Can you make quick work of this. Stefan is back in the building.
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[Lindsay raises an eyebrow as she comes back, slipping her phone back into her pocket.]
I said we were going to have a conversation. And it doesn't seem to me like Stefan's looking to go anywhere.
[Stefan still hasn't reached for his ring, and he turns his attention from his brother to her. "Did you find Dorian?"]
Not yet. But I have someone on it who's going to keep me posted.
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( Why is she being so difficult? )
Hey, hey, you don't know what Stefan wants. Besides, Dorian alive and in one piece. Which clues you in, doesn't it. ( he turns back to his brother. ) Put on the ring, Stefan.
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