~ Chapter Sixty ~

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"Eva." Damon's soft voice pulled me from my light slumber, making my head roll to the side as I rested against the brick wall opposite Stefan's cell. "Hey," he murmured, tucking a curl behind my ear before crouching beside me. "You should come upstairs," he urged, clutching my arms while my feet stumbled beneath me. "You shouldn't be down here by yourself."
   Nodding, I grabbed his wrist, using his steadiness to balance myself. He walked me to the door, his eyes scrutinizing my expression the entire way while I glanced back at Stefan. "Is he going to be OK?" I whispered, a tear blurring his fragile figure curled in the corner.  
   Damon shrugged, guiding me through the door before closing Stefan from view. "He will be."

Damon set me on the couch, sliding beneath my outstretched legs before handing me a mug of hot coffee. He tapped my leg with his fingers, quietly drumming in thought while I stared at the steam. Stefan was suffering. He was starving and in pain. He was locked away in a tiny little cell and paying, paying for my mistake of feeding him, paying for Damon's hand in his vampirism. 
   "We need to talk."
   I glanced up from the mug, noting the serious brow masking the curve of Damon's iris. "Is it about me being here? Because if it bothers you, I could just stay in the basement," I pleaded. "You don't have to know I'm here, just... Please," I begged, pulling my knees to my chest. "Don't make me leave Stefan."
   He pursed his lips, shaking his head before zipping across the room to the drinks cart. "It's not about Stefan, and if you want to be here, you can be here," he offered. "As long as you stay upstairs when I'm not around. Kinda depressing down there."
   "Is that what Damon Salvatore sounds like when he cares?" I joked, trying to swallow a sob. He narrowed his eyes. "I'll stay upstairs," I promised.
   "Jeremy knows about vampires."
   "What?!" I leaped to my feet, panic swarming my chest as I paced the rug. "What do you mean Jeremy knows about vampires? I didn't tell him, did you tell him?" I froze, eyes widening as Damon sunk deeper into the leather corner. "Was it Caroline?"
   He shook his head. "Anna."
   "Anna?" I repeated, my eyebrows touching my hairline. "I didn't know Jeremy was still talking to her... I didn't even know she was still around."
   "Yeah, well, she is. And Jeremy wants her to turn him into a vampire."
   Shock rendered me speechless as Damon's claim sunk in. Jeremy knew. Jeremy knew about vampires and he didn't tell me. Jeremy knew, he knew and he... A tear slid down my cheek as I covered my mouth, my fingers trembling. "No," I choked, shaking my head. "No, he, he can't," I sniffed, sinking into the chair by the fire. "He can't, Damon, he can't-"
   "Hey, relax," he murmured, crouching at my legs. He took my hands in his, gazing up at me as his fingers massaged circles into my knuckles. "Jeremy's not becoming a vampire, all right? I told Ric, and he's gonna keep an eye on him," he explained. "In the meantime, we have another problem, one a teensy more pressing and complicated than your idiot brother's death wish."
   I yanked my hands from Damon, standing with him while I gritted my teeth. "What could be more urgent than Jeremy's desire to die and come back as a blood-sucking demon?" I spat, folding my arms.
   Damon tilted his head, his brows furrowed before shifting his weight. "One, ouch," he said. "And two, your dear uncle John paid me a visit the other day," he revealed. "He's working with your ass of a birth mother. They want one of Jonathan Gilbert's inventions, a mysterious piece of junk that incapacitated vampires," he rolled his eyes. "Isobel wants to use it to kill the vampires in Mystic Falls. All the vampires."
   I frowned, pacing the length of the parlor while Damon poured himself another drink. "Isobel and John want to kill all the vampires? But, Isobel is a vampire and... Oh no, Damon, what if Jeremy turns and-"
   "Eva," he shouted, grabbing my arms. "Stop pacing," he ordered. "You need to calm down, all right? Good," he nodded, slowly releasing my biceps while my heart resumed its normal beat. "I know everything seems to be going wrong right now, but we are going to get through this," he promised. "One thing at a time. Now, are you ready to relax? Or do I need to lock you in the cellar too?" He threatened, raising a brow.
   I gulped, shaking my head before taking a deep breath. "No, sorry. What can I do to help?"
   "Well," he smiled. "That's better. Now, as I see it we have three problems: Number one, Stefan. Number two, Jeremy..." He paused, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth accompanied by a mischievous wink. "Brothers, am I right?" I narrowed my eyes. "OK, OK, Number three, Gilbert Device."
   I shrugged, my arms falling helplessly at my sides. "How are we going to fix all of that?"
   "I've got a plan," he replied. "But let me worry about that. What I need you to do, is talk to your brother. Start being honest, then maybe he'll be honest back. Convince him vampirism sucks and blah blah blah," he waved his hand. "Also, you gotta go back to school," he urged. "Dear Uncle John hates Stefan's guts for dating you, and as long as you're here, we're all at risk of having to endure a horribly boring conversation with 'em," he groaned. "Find out what you can about Isobel from your uncle," he suggested. "And maybe keep Bonnie on Team Vampire. We may need her with problem number three."
   "OK," I agreed, crossing my arms. "I can do that, but what about Stefan?"
   Damon sighed, scrunching his face in irritation. "Stefan's guilt has got the best of him. He won't drink anything, and if he starves himself much longer," he shrugged. "Well, let's just hope that doesn't happen. If Isobel is serious about wanting to kill the vampires in Mystic Falls he's going to need his strength to survive," he explained.
   "I wish I could help him," I admitted. "He's helped me through so much, but everything I do just seems to make it all worse."
   Damon paused, his brows furrowed. "You know this isn't your fault, right?" I bit my lip, bowing my head. He vamped towards me, lifting my chin with his finger before raising a brow. "Eva," his tone softened. "Stefan made his choice."
   I nodded, wiping my eye before a tear could escape. "Yeah," I breathed, shoving my hands in my pockets. "I know."
   "Good," he smiled, turning back to the drinks cart. "Now, go," he demanded.
   "What are you going to do?"
   "You worry about what you have to do," he advised. "I'll take care of the rest."

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