[*Chapter Fifty-Six*]

*•*•*

SHE did it because her heart knew no boundaries. It was within her heart, one day, she discovered that she was fierce and strong and full of fire and that not even she could hold back because her passion burned brighter than her fears.

HOWEVER, no one predicted what repercussions would ascend.

*•*•*

Thirty-Six hours before anarchy descended.

"Absolutely not!" Damon exclaimed.

Elena sighed tiredly. "Just hear me out," she urged the occupants sprawled around the Boarding house' parlour room.

Damon angrily denied her request. "We're not gonna give the device to John, who is going to turn it to kill me. I like being a living dead person!"

"But it'll be useless. Bonnie can take its power away," Elena went on, relentless. She turned to the Bennett witch, sitting in the armchair next to the lit fire. "Tell them what you can do."

Bonnie opened her mouth to reply, but Stefan held up his hand, halting her.

"I personally think Darcy should know of your plans before you commit to them," Stefan announced, tilting his head to the side upon hearing the floorboards creaking as footsteps descended the stairs.

"And what plans would those be?"

Elena turned around, a sheepish look washing her face, seeing a fresh changed Darcy stepping into the room. "I-uh... When you went after Jeremy, Bonnie found a spell that can take power away from the device."

"I don't trust her," Damon protested. "And not only that, but something is also bound to go wrong."

Darcy rose and eye in interest, her gaze switching between the vampire and witch. "A spell? Power?" she scrutinised the girl's eyes darting between the two vampires and clutched the grimoire close to her chest before diverting her stare back to her.

Bonnie nodded. "I can remove the original spell."

"John and Isobel will never know," Elena said, her features hopeful, which wiped away as soon as they appeared.

Stefan snorted, scratching his neck, his sight fixed on the wall, when two pairs of eyes zipped over to him.

"Oh, would you look at that..." Damon whistled, shifting towards the exit. His hand latched onto Darcy' arm, dragging her towards the front door. "Time to go. It's getting late, people. Beauty sleep awaits. Good night!"

"Is there something I don't know?" Elena questioned in bemusement, still not moving from her spot in the centre of the room.

"Nope, not at all," Damon answered innocently, continuing to tug Darcy away.

"Isobel's presence shall not be necessary," Darcy proclaimed, pulling herself out of Damon's clutches.

Elena furrowed her brows, feeling confused. "But the device? Surely after everything, she won't give it up without a fight-"

"Let me repeat myself... Isobel's physical presence shall not be necessary," Darcy cut her off. Walking over to the witch, she took a seat on the arm of the chair, gazing down at the grimoire still in her tight grasp.

"She's dead?!" Elena followed Darcy like a lost puppy, her skin turning an angry shade of red before she whipped around and leapt at Damon. "You killed her!"

Damon backed away, raising his hands in defence. "Woah! For once, I'm actually innocent."

Stefan let a snort of amusement. "That you're are, brother...in that department at least."

Damon smirked, pointing his finger at him. "Oh, come on, you can't say playing ping pong with John's head wasn't part of the main highlight of the night."

Darcy let out a whistle, waving her arms and clapping her hands loudly. "Quite literally... John's head went, ping pong... poof!"

Elena's advanced on Stefan next, the shade of red staining her skin reaching a deep purple. "You're in on this, too? You knew, and you didn't tell me!"

Stefan stared her in the eye and lifted the glass of blood to his lips, taking a sip. "Yep, and so much more."

"Oh my God... Please don't tell me he's dead too?" Elena spluttered in a panic frenzy.

Stefan smirked. "If tied up... quite literally... in the back of Darcy's car equals to death, then yeah."

"Oh my God... Oh my God," Elena cried.

"All right, let's press fast forward on the playtime before Elena here has an aneurism..." Darcy cut in, watching in amusement as Elena bounced between the two like how john's head was used as a ping pong.

"I'm not! I can't believe you killed Isobel and hurt John. Sure I knew you were getting Jeremy back, but death and punishment? Is that necessary?" Elena exclaimed, waving her arms around.

"Yep," Damon agreed, grinning.

Elena ignored his unhelpful commentary and stomped back over to Darcy, getting into her face. "If they didn't kill Isobel, that means it was you. You killed her, didn't you? Tell me!"

"No comment. Regardless of what I say, you'll just make up your own assumptions, so what's the point?" Darcy replied and shrugged her shoulders, brushing her off when Elena attempted to grab her by her shoulders.

"Bonnie, you said you could remove the spell, right? Elaborate us of how?" Stefan asked Bennett witch.

Bonnie nodded in confirmation, flexing her clammy grip around the book.

"But Darcy-" Elena interjected again, earning in a tired grumble from Damon, muttering of the lines of how they could kill her too, rather than listening to her suffering complaints.

"Are you having an identity crisis, Elena?" Darcy questioned, twisting her head to peer at the brunette.

"No," Elena frowned.

"Are you Bonnie?"

"No," Elena grimaced, shuffling on her feet.

"Then would you mind keeping your mouth closed so Bonnie can explain?"

"God, yes, please. Save us from the torture!" Damon exclaimed, earning a snicker from Stefan, and placed his hands together, praying to the skies above.

Elena shot him a dark look and did precisely what she was told, sitting down on the sofa a few paces over, next to them. 

Damon turned to the witch, his arms crossed against his chest. "Are you even up for this? I mean, no offence, you're no Emily Bennett. Emily knew what she was doing."

Bonnie shot him a dark look, eyes narrowed into slits. "I've been practising."

"It's not piano lessons, honey," he replied sardonically, walking over to pour himself a tumbler of bourbon.

Bonnie opened her mouth to retort, but Darcy placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at her. 

"I kind to have to agree with Damon here. I know you have the potential to grow and learn more, but you've only recently learnt that you're a witch, the same with your powers," she lingered, seeing the upset expression flash upon her face. "Hey, I'm not knocking down your capabilities. I just want to know if you feel confident enough to do such a spell. Don't do it if there could be consequences on your behalf. Okay?"

Bonnie lost the ability to speak for a few moments, her gaze and mind fixed on the girl before her. Initially, she had a definite primary cause, but knowing the impending rising doom, she knows she needs to proceed, regardless of her pay price.

"Okay." Turning back to the raven-haired vampire, Bonnie nodded to herself, her confidence returning. "What's your favourite book?"

"What?" Damon frowned, placing the whiskey bottle down to twist around to look at the witch.

"Name a book, any book," Bonnie elaborated.

Damon furrowed his brows, his mind flickering over the numerous books he owned. "Name a book...How about "Call of The Wild", Jack London?"

Bonnie turns and looks at the library across the room, her gaze narrowed in concentration. A whoop sounds from Darcy when a book flies out and lands in Damon's hands.

"What is it?" Darcy jumped to her feet, bouncing over to him eagerly and peered over his shoulder. Damon turned it around, showing the front cover. The title "Call of The Wild" stared up at them. She sent him a look of interest, but he wasn't deterred.

"Jack London. Great parlour trick," he tossed the book on the coffee table and clapped his hands. "What's next?

Elena stood up, looking intently at the four beseechingly. "We're doing this. And we're doing it my way. Now give me the device. We're wasting time!"

Darcy smirked, returning to her place beside Bonnie. "Actually... I'm gonna need to press pause on your plans."

"What are you doing, Darcy?" Stefan probed. He exchanged a cautious glance with his brother, knowing the following words to spill out of her mouth they most definitely will not admire.

She ignored him and held out her hand, beckoning Bonnie to hand over the grimoire. Bonnie stared at her with a look of hesitancy. 

"You can trust me. I give you my word."

Bonnie handed over the grimoire. Much later on, oh how, she wished she didn't.

"No spell will be needed, and John can have his device as he desires-"

"Are you out of your damned mind?! After everything that has happened tonight, John is not having the device so that he can kill Stefan and me!" Damon exclaimed, speeding across the room. He stopped inches away from Darcy, his hands resting atop her shoulders, pleading within himself for her to take back her words, to say it was all a bad nightmare, and they could wake up now.

"He'll kill us. Are you willing to throw everything away with a click of your fingers? Is that what you want?" he asked, dropping his tone to a whisper.

With an expression of softness, Darcy shuffled the book under her right arm and lifted her left, cradling his cheek in her palm. She gazed up at him with nothing but acceptance. "Quite the opposite. I'm going to do my all to make that possible," she turned her head slightly to glimpse at Stefan. "For both of you."

Stefan stood up and approached them with hesitant steps. "It will be impossible... with the device left at it is, it will kill us."

Darcy lowered her hand and glanced between the two brothers with a pair of devious eyes. "Not if you're not in a five-block radius, it won't."

Damon scoffed and backed away. "You're an idiot if you believe anything that journal says."

"Believe what you may," her lips jutted up into a smirk as she turned to leave the room.

Stefan stepped in front of her, dwelling her tracks. "Think about this. It has disaster written all over it."

"It would be better if Bonnie took the powers away from the device," Elena argued her point.

Darcy remained mute and stepped around Stefan's frame. Just before she passed the archway, she paused again when Daman'a voice called out.

"Why? Why would you do this?"

She sighed and squeezed her eyes tight. Opening them again, she turned around one last time.

 "Tell me, Damon. Six months ago, if we had never met, and you and Stefan never rekindled a lost bond, would you be saying the same? Would you two be able to stand in the same room right now without tearing each other apart and throwing insults at each other? Would you have realised even though you promised him an eternity of misery, deep inside your cold heart, you still needed your brother? That despite the loathing, you still loved him. Would you have identified those feelings?"

Damon stared at her with wide-open eyes, rooting him to the spot. A shuffle to his side made him turn his head and see his brother. Seeing him, feeling his physical presence, hearing her words was like a wake-up call, jolting his whole being as if he was watching everything with a pair of brand new eyes, a different perspective, a new motivation, a new purpose.

Turning back to Darcy, he shook his head in admittance. "No. None of those would have been possible."

"Yet, here you are six months later, standing aside those aspects. You pulled Stefan out of what could have been another ripper phase and accepted him for who he is. Regardless of his choice in a diet, animal or human, you learnt to support him. Together you mended a broken brotherhood and put behind a traumatic love experience. You were both strong enough to strive past the years of hatred and realise that being brothers above all is more important," she paused, staring deep into his eyes. 

"Ask yourself how you would feel if you lost Stefan. Forever."

"Lost," Damon sucked in a sharp breath.

She stepped further into the room. "Ask yourself how you would feel if Stefan died tomorrow."

"Alone."

Another step. "Ask yourself how you would have felt if Frederick had succeeded that night, and you were unable to save him."

"Lost, alone, bloodthirsty," he clenched his hands, watching as she took another step, halting before his feet, eyes locked on his.

"Stop, I get it. Just stop," the vampire gritted out, eyes squeezed shut.

"And that's why I need you both to get far away from Mystic Falls as possible. I can't bear the thought... the possibility of knowing you both could die," Darcy whispered mournfully, reaching out to unfold his clenched hands. 

Damon opened his eyes, flitting them across her delicate features, stopping when reaching her deep pools. "I need you both to remain living dead people, with imperfections and all."

"But that's not all, is it?" Stefan spoke up from beside them. "There's something else. Today with John and Isobel, you needed that confirmation to reach this point, didn't you?"

"What is it?" Elena asked, sharing a glance with Bonnie.

Darcy stared over Damon's shoulder, staring into Bonnie's eyes. "When one wants to play with fire, they'll shed tears when their downfall burns in flames."

Stefan brushed his hands down his face, his mind connecting the dots. "The tomb vampires... you want revenge."

She didn't answer. She turned around and left the Boarding House.

Bonnie gasped with realisation and the possibility of saving her an onslaught of hatred and regret. 

Darcy had left with the grimoire firmly in her grasp.

Thirty-Two hours before anarchy descended.

The clock had just struck past midnight. Elena and Bonnie were fast asleep, the latter staying for the night at the insistence of Darcella. However, John Gilbert remained awake -- too many thoughts and theories ran around his mind, earning him to get up out of bed and venture downstairs for a coffee.

Closing the guest bedroom door, he began his journey, shuffling past the additional closed bedroom doors in the hallway. Just as he was approaching the stairs, and if it weren't for the lack of lighting, he would have failed to see the faint glow illuminating through the ajar door of Jeremy's room. John paused, hearing hushed murmurs coming from inside.

"rik... I'm so sorry. I promise to make everything right again, back as it was before... I hope you can find within yourself to forgive me."

Curiosity flowed through his core. His hand found itself pushing the door further open.

John abruptly swallowed the lump in his throat at the sight that greeted him. It wasn't Jeremy lying asleep that made him emotional. It was the young woman sitting aside him.

Her hands moved with a practised move as if she had authorised the action many times before. She dipped a rag into the bowl of water that sat on the bedside table and rinsed it until it was slightly damp. She then began dabbing it around Jeremy's forehead, wiping away the dried blood that had congregated around the laceration. Once finished, she picked up a white tub, squeezed a dot of white cream onto her finger and smeared it over the cut.

"Look what they have done to you... Your handsome face... It's all my fault," she sniffled, lifting an arm to wipe her face. "I shouldn't have intervened, and none of this would have happened. I understand if you don't forgive me... I'm a monster."

John couldn't stand the heartbreaking sight. He stepped inside the room, shut the door behind him and sat down beside her on the bed. "You're wrong, you know. It's not your fault... It's mine."

Darcella sighed but listened. She placed the rag into the bowl and clutched the antibiotic cream into her right hand.

"If I weren't so hellbent on getting revenge on the tomb vampires, and finishing what Johnathan Gilbert started, today wouldn't have happened."

"So why the change of heart? I mean, unless tonight was a wake-up call?"

"That and much more. Your words from this morning of how I should have been there for my family after Grayson and Miranda died. Except I wasn't, too into my grief to realise theirs. And when the opportunity to execute my revenge aroused, I pounced, too weak and powerless to resist."

"And then your job fell into my hands. What you were supposed to do, I did. I tried my best... But maybe, It wasn't enough," Darcella murmured, her eyes sweeping across Jeremy's sleeping form. "Maybe they are better off without me, and tonight could have been avoided. All of this could have been avoided."

"I disagree. Jenna's words are proof. Without you, the kids and Jenna wouldn't have survived this long. If you hadn't stepped in when you did, controlled the operation from the beginning, much more devastation would have arisen. You've successfully managed to avoid many deaths in the future."

"You don't hate me?" she cut in, though she avoided eye contact. "You could have died tonight."

"It's because of your self-sacrifice that I can't find it in myself to hate you. You acted and protected Jeremy with the right intentions and a good heart." John watched as Darcella stood up from the bed and made her way to the window. He observed as she pushed aside the drapes and gazed at the moonlight illuminating the night sky.

"Regardless of what has transpired, tomorrow must go on," Darcella whispered. "It was due to our foolish actions that Bonnie lost her Gran that night, and later on we discovered, the tomb vampires escaped. I can't place all the blame on you when everyone is at fault."

John sucked in a breath, knowing the bomb was hurtling to an encore. "What are you saying?"

"It started with them. It must end with them. We both know this, for the next act to begin, we must proceed, regardless of the aftermath."

John stood up, bracing his arms on the bed, when a wave of dizziness threatened to knock him back down. "Darcella... think about this."

"I have." Darcy dropped the drapes to a close and turned around, steering deep into Jonh's soul. "My decision is final."

John stared at her incredulously. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes tight, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me that all this wasn't because of the Salvatore's. Tell me it's not true."

Darcy moved towards the door and opened it; her expectant gaze rested on the wall above his head. "You have twenty-four hours. Tick-tock John, the clocks are ticking," she replied.

Knowing he was being kicked out, he slipped past her form. The bang of the door shutting caused him to flinch and stare at white wood in utter devastation and brewing anger.

He doesn't know how it was possible. The girl has bested him yet, knowing she will still throw herself in the line of fire. He unearths there's not an ounce of hatred towards her. John knows she has the right motives (in her mind) and a good heart. But protecting the Salvatore brothers will lead her to her death. And damn if he will let that happen—vampire or not.