Empty Crown ⚜ Klaus Mikaelson

26. 𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙄𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙚𝙨

Shattering glass was the first thing Imelda thought she'd be greeted with upon returning home. What she got was very different from what she expected. She found Damon stood before the fireplace, two glasses filled with bourbon.

As the door closed behind her, he stretched his arm forward, holding out the other glass. Rubbing her nose, Imelda crept forward, joining him and taking the glass.

The crackling of the fire was all that could be heard as Imelda peered into the dancing flames. She took a sip before blinking and downing the entire glass. Wordlessly, Damon refilled it, picking up the bottle sat at his feet.

Her embarrassment over being in nothing but a jacket faded as she took another sip. From beside her Damon moved to the sofa where he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders but didn't move.

Instead, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back against his chest and took a sip from his own glass. Imelda could smell his anger and grief, it mixed well with her own.

Despite wanting to speak, to apologize and even let him take his anger out on her, Imelda was quiet. She simply gazed at the fire and drank. The alcohol, that once got her drunk so easily, seemed to no longer have any great affect over her.

"I'm sorry." The words didn't come from Imelda. "I'm so sorry Buffy."

Imelda didn't get the chance to speak as her neck was snapped. Damon caught her body, moving to rest her on the sofa before going to get her clothes and clean the blood from her hands and face. Once he was done and she was dressed and asleep on the sofa, he called Ric.

"Yeah? Well sometimes I do things I don't have to!"

Damon shouted through his phone before hanging up. He pressed the phone to his lips, his eyes moving to the now dressed Imelda. Her neck wasn't bent but she was still dead. The sight caused him to wince and quickly look away.

"You want to explain why there's a dead Ims on our sofa or am I supposed to guess?" Stefan stood with his arms crossed next to the sofa. Damon stood in front of the fireplace, drinking from the bottle of bourbon; it was nearly empty.

"Tonight could not have gone any worse." Damon grumbled. "Ric's in the hospital, said he's staying the night and to keep her,-" He angrily gestured to Imelda. "Here until he got out."

Stefan crouched by Imelda and brushed her hair from her face. "So you did so by breaking her neck? Why?"

Damon scowled. "Can I trust you?" He stepped forward before holding the bottle out to Stefan who slowly stood.

"You can trust me to not kill you." Stefan was only able to offer so much. If he let all of the pain inside, let what he did not just to Damon but to Elena, Imelda and everyone else he cared about, Stefan would go insane.

"I need to trust you won't kill her." Damon gestured to Imelda.

"Because she means a lot to me and I just broke her neck, the one thing she hates. Not only that but I made a promise I don't want to exactly keep. So you tell me right now little brother, can I trust you to not kill our little sister?"

Stefan looked away. He gazed at Imelda dressed in Damon's shirt and sweatpants. She smelled like blood and earth. The memory of Iris confronting him last year surfaced. Realization filled his eyes and he physically took a step back and away from Damon.

"She's a hybrid." Stefan didn't want it to be true. But it all made sense, why Mikael would have helped to save her, why Klaus was so protective over her. How she was so much faster than him or how she knew she needed to be somewhere else.