CHAPTER FIVE
CONFRONTING A DEMON

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     Rowan studied herself in the mirror. She told herself that she was simply looking over her outfit, but the outfit she wore was barely anything worth looking over. Just sneakers, jeans, a white shirt, and a black jacket thrown over it. She pulled her hair over her shoulders and tried to ignore the necklace resting just below the hollow of her throat. When Elena had originally given it to her, she remembered feeling touched, but she also remembered thinking that it was the gaudiest thing she had ever seen. It was simple, and probably wouldn't have been noticed in big cities like New York or Chicago, but in her small town, people would see it as ostentatious. It would attract attention, and she knew that attracting attention was the last thing she needed.

She fiddled with the small blue stone thoughtfully, twisting it around and around before straightening the chain and starting all over again. It was an antique, something Stefan had dug out of his collection of family heirlooms. She wondered who the necklace had belonged to. A cousin? Stefan's mother? His fiancé, before Katherine came in and compelled her way into his head? Or had it been Katherine's? The thought made her frown, her hand falling away from the necklace. She didn't particularly mind wearing a piece of jewelry that had once belonged to Katherine—a daylight necklace was a daylight necklace, and she was grateful to be able to walk in the sun again—but it seemed like cruel irony to learn that she was wearing the necklace of a woman who had done this to her in the first place.

"Rowan!" She jumped, then winced when her mother's loud voice floated up the stairs. She was slowly learning how to control her enhanced hearing, learning how to tune things out, but she wasn't quite there yet. She scowled and rubbed at her temples as her mother continued. "A friend is here to see you!" Rowan frowned.

"Who is it?" she called down, cracking her door open and popping her head outside.

"Stefan Salvatore," her mother responded, and then Rowan heard her add, "Come in, come in. You're letting all the heat out." When Stefan responded, Rowan was surprised by how charming he sounded. He had always seemed so awkward around her. She jerked her door open wider and darted down the stairs, her footsteps loud in the otherwise quiet house. When she got down to the foyer, she saw that Stefan was smiling and laughing at something her mother was saying.

He had a cute smile, she realized, if someone was into that sort of thing.

"Alright, mom, I got him," Rowan said, smiling at her mother as she reached Stefan's side and wrapped her arms around one of his, tugging him toward the stairs. Her mother immediately zeroed in on the touch, and Rowan mentally cursed herself. Rowan had never had a boy over—she had never been interested, and save for some experimentation at parties and bonfires, she had never really had a boyfriend—so she often forgot how protective her parents actually were. They were lax on the rules because Rowan's therapist had told them that strict rules would just make her worse, but that only applied to so many things. Clearly, boys were something her mother wasn't going to be lax about.

Rowan wanted to tell her that boys weren't what she needed to worry about, but when she opened her mouth to impulsively say the words, an invisible hand seemed to close around her throat. She snapped her mouth shut immediately afterward, her thoughts a jumble of confusion. She blinked slowly, then glanced up at Stefan, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. He hadn't been expecting her to touch him, and now he didn't know how to react.

"I'd rather the two of you stay down here," Mary Cartwright said, and this time both Stefan and Rowan looked like deer caught in headlights. They stared at her in stunned silence, and then Rowan was releasing Stefan's arm and they were taking several wide steps away from each other, both stuttering out words about how Stefan had a girlfriend.

"Uh, I actually have—"

"—a girlfriend. He has a girlfriend. We're actually working on, um—"

"—a project. History," Stefan quickly said, recovering from his bout of brief embarrassment and clearing his throat. "It's due next week." Rowan snapped her fingers.

"Right!" She shot a smile at her mother even as she grabbed Stefan's jacket sleeve and hauled him toward the stairs. "Which means no interrupting!" she called over her shoulder as Stefan followed her. She ushered him into her bedroom.

"Rowan, do not close that door!" her mother yelled after her. "And I thought you were going to Jenna's barbecue?" Rowan huffed out a breath of exasperation.

"That's tomorrow, mom!" she said.

Rowan closed the door, then locked it for good measure. When she turned toward Stefan, he was standing stiffly in the center of her room, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. He looked relieved when he saw her open her mouth to speak, clearly not knowing how to start a conversation with her himself.

"Did Elena send you?" she demanded, subconsciously reaching for the necklace around her throat. She started twisting it again.

"No," Stefan said, shaking his head. "I was...worried. Wanted to check up on you." Rowan blinked in surprise at that, her hand dropping from her throat. She didn't thank him, and he cleared his throat. He changed the subject a second later. "You're going to the barbecue?"

"Yeah." When she saw him frown, as if he was displeased, Rowan scoffed and planted her hands on her hips. "Please, Steffy. Jenna adores me. I can be sweet when I want to be." Stefan frowned harder when she called him Steffy, but didn't make a comment on it. Rowan had a feeling the nickname would stick. She waited for him to say something, but when he didn't, Rowan's own frown formed. She tilted her head to the side. "What is it?"

"Damon is going to be there," Stefan murmured, mouth twisting in a grimace. For a moment, Rowan had no idea how to respond. The thought of Damon Salvatore at a family-and-friend barbecue—the thought of him in Elena's home, walking around like he owned the damn place—made her feel sick. She had known he could enter, she had seen him in Elena's home before, but now that she knew everything, it made her extremely uncomfortable.

"Excuse me?" she stuttered out, blinking rapidly. "Um, why?" Stefan let out a soft sigh and shifted on his feet.

"He invited himself," he said with a sigh. "Jenna invited Mason Lockwood—they went to school together—and since he's a werewolf, Damon wanted to—" Rowan's eyes almost bugged out of her head, and a choked sound left her mouth. Stefan fell silent as he watched her flounder for words, her mouth opening and closing. After a moment, he tried to bite back a smile as he said, "Yes, there's werewolves. I'm guessing Elena forgot to mention that?" Speechless, and feeling more than a little ill now, Rowan could only manage a nod. Stefan nodded with her. "Damon's going to feel him out. I'm going too, so I'll try to keep him away from you, but—but I thought you should know."

Rowan was frowning now, mind a million miles away. Back to the night he forced her and Vicki Donovan to stand on the edge of the rooftop, back to the time when he spared Vicki but didn't spare her. She wants to die anyway, he had said. Those words had been bothering her since she had remembered them, and it wasn't until then that she realized why.

"Do you remember what he said," she whispered, eyes glued to the window, "when he forced me to stand on the edge of the roof?" Stefan shifted on his feet. When she glanced at him, she saw that his gaze was averted to the floor. "He said he was doing me a favor. That I wanted to die anyway. Why did he say that, Stefan?" Her voice cracked. "Why did he do that to me?" Even as she asked, her eyes went to the bottle of anti-depressants on her bedside table. She had been flushing one down the toilet every morning, just in case her parents decided to count, as they often did. She didn't want them to think she had stopped taking her medication, even though they no longer worked. She didn't want to go back to the doctor and pretend like she wasn't a completely different person. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as Stefan ducked his head and swallowed thickly.

"I don't know," Stefan whispered, glancing up. Rowan pulled her gaze away from the bottle too late, and she watched with a sinking stomach as Stefan follow her gaze to the pills. Stefan frowned, but didn't go to pick the bottle up despite his curiosity. Rowan appreciated that. She appreciated that he was respecting her privacy, appreciated that he wasn't touching everything in her room like he owned it. She would have hated to have to throw him out the window. It would be rather difficult to explain why her bedroom window was broken.

"They're anti-depressants," she said with a sigh, and Stefan's confused expression smoothed out in understanding. She crossed her arms over her stomach and glanced away, uncomfortable. Her mind went back to the last time someone had found out about her depression through circumstance, when Tyler had to rush her to the emergency room. Her face twisted in a frown. "Wait. Last summer, I was in the hospital. I was drunk and being stupid and I—" She stumbled over the words, stumbled over the lie. This was why everyone told her she was a horrible liar, why she had decided to always tell the truth. She was barely drunk that night, and she was hardly stupid. She shook her head and chewed on her bottom lip.

"Rowan?" Stefan asked, voice quiet. She glanced at him, feeling anxious. She offered a stiff shrug.

"My doctor labelled it a suicide attempt," she forced out, her teeth clenched so hard that a tick formed in her jaw. She didn't like remembering the last summer, didn't like remembering the hospital lights and the hovering and being stuck inside a room in complete boredom for seventy-two hours. She shook her head and shot Stefan a glare. "Did your demon brother get into my medical records?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," he muttered, and Rowan rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped when she noticed the concern on his face. "I didn't—I tried throwing the pills back up, but—" Frustrated, she turned away from him, her cheeks flaming. There was a beat of tense silence.

"Elena never told me," he murmured. Rowan let out a small laugh and turned back toward him. She reached up to play with her necklace again.

"Elena doesn't know," she said, making Stefan blink in surprise. She shrugged, uncomfortable again. "It was a month after her parents died, she and Jeremy were away for the rest of the summer, and I...I told everyone who knew not to tell her. I didn't want her going through anything else. She was dealing with enough as it was. Besides, the only people who even know is Tyler and Bonnie. Tyler, because he drove me to the emergency room after I overdosed, and Bonnie because her grandmother had been in the hospital for heart problems at the time and she saw me being discharged and cornered me. They haven't told Elena, and neither will you. Got it?" She pinned Stefan with a cold look, one he shifted under.

"Got it," he said before he was frowning and stepping closer. "But, Rowan, you should know that everything you feel—lust, love, anger—it all turns into hunger." Rowan's stomach twisted uneasily at that. She already had problems with blood—it seemed like she was always starving—and she didn't want to think about how out of control she would be if things got too overwhelming. That feeling only worsened when Stefan added, "Your depression will turn into hunger, too. Especially since we feel things so strongly. Sadness alone can cripple you, but depression..." Stefan shook his head. "It can destroy you. Can make you want to turn everything off and give in to all your urges."

He said it so confidently that for a moment, Rowan only stared.

"How do you manage it?" she whispered. She didn't have to ask how he seemed to confident. Stefan was speaking from experience. He knew what depression could do to a vampire because he had gone through it. She could hear it in his voice, read it on his face.

Stefan attempted a smile and said, "One day at a time."

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Rowan arrived early to the barbecue the next day. Caroline had appeared in her driveway ten minutes earlier, honking her horn and making Rowan groan in irritation. She had planned on walking. The weather was nice, not too cold, and it finally allowed her to bring out her skirts and tights. She'd wanted to have the walk to clear her head, to prepare for an entire evening of being in the same house as Damon, someone she hadn't even seen since she was turned into a vampire. Then Caroline had appeared, as jovial and bright as ever, and Rowan had to keep her jaw clenched the entire ride as Caroline talked nonstop and munched on a bag of potato chips resting in her lap. Eventually, Rowan had to start eating them too, to keep all the scathing words from leaving her mouth.

She knew that Caroline meant well. She knew that Caroline was going through the same thing she was going through—worse, since she had recently been forced to breakup with Matt to keep him safe, and her mother was aware of vampires and hated them with every fiber of her being—but Rowan could only take so much support, so much obvious attempts to check up on her. God forbid if they left her alone for fifteen minutes while she walked to Elena's house.

Besides, Caroline's attempts at connecting with Rowan—at somehow reconstructing their dynamic overnight—felt surreal to her. Ever since freshman year, Rowan and Bonnie had been detached from Caroline and Elena's ridiculous rivalry. Bonnie had been the nice one, the one they both went to for support. Rowan had been the mean one, the one who told them both to leave her out of their drama, the one who wasn't afraid to call Caroline out when she was being awful or insensitive. Caroline and Rowan had butted heads for years—because they had somehow fallen into a rivalry of their own, a competition over who could be the meanest, the most callous, the most insensitive, because being a bitch meant they were noticed, even if it was negatively—so the sudden absence of mean remarks between the two of them felt fake.

Caroline knew that just as much as Rowan did, which was why she released a sigh of relief when they reached Elena's house. Caroline was out of the car before Rowan was, bounding up the Gilbert porch, giving Elena a brief hug, then darting inside. Rowan shook her head and pushed the car door open, stepping out and reaching for her necklace as she went to Elena, who hadn't followed Caroline inside. Rowan could hear her cheerfully greeting everyone in the house. Elena raised both eyebrows as Rowan approached, looking amused.

"That was the longest car ride I have ever been forced to have," Rowan said as a greeting. "And that includes when my parents decided that we should all take a road trip to the Grand Canyon before freshman year. It took over thirty hours." Elena laughed and shook her head.

"I'm glad you're here," she said warmly, stepping forward to wrap her arms around Rowan. Rowan took a deep breath and hugged her back, blinking rapidly when Elena's thumping heart suddenly seemed louder. She pressed her lips together, suddenly wishing she had brought along a blood bag or two. She should have eaten that morning, even if her dad had been in the kitchen all day working on his laptop at the small dining table. She forced a smile on her face when Elena pulled away from her. She could bear the hunger. She had fed the night before anyway.

"I said I would come," she said with a shrug. She glanced over Elena's shoulder, toward the front door, which was open to let the slight breeze in. It was too nice a day to be stuck inside. She listened closely, then grimaced when she heard Damon's voice. Judging by the distance, he was in the backyard, speaking to Alaric. "Why is Damon here already?" She turned to look over the street, then frowned when she noticed Mason's truck parked across the street. She and Tyler used to ride in the back of it, before Mason had moved down to Florida.

"He just got here." Elena grimaced. "I told him to stay away from you."

"Your house is small, Elena," Rowan pointed out. It wasn't technically true—it was two stories, with spare bedrooms and a separate, more personal dining room as opposed to the dining room that connected to the kitchen—but with so many people in the house, she saw it as small. "If this was Tyler's place, I'd believe that was possible, but..." Elena grimaced again.

"I can kick him out. Is it possible to uninvite a vampire from a home?" Elena asked rhetorically as she linked their arms together and started walking toward her front door. "I'm not sure, but it's worth a try. Jenna doesn't want him here, either. I didn't even know he was coming until I was at The Grill earlier."

"Since I'm kind of becoming Stefan's friend," Rowan said as she climbed the stairs, "I better get used to his asshole brother. He's not going away, and I can't avoid him forever." She broke off when she heard Caroline's cheerful laugh, and then she grimaced. "Besides, if Caroline can manage to be around him after what he did to her, then I can suck it up." There was a beat of uncomfortable silence. Both of them could vividly remember the abuse Damon had inflicted on Caroline during their brief fling.

"You shouldn't have to suck it up," Elena whispered. "Neither of you should. It's unfair."

"Life isn't fair," Rowan murmured. "I think we all learned that a long time ago. We can't do anything about it, so just invite me in so I can eat some food. I can smell it from the backyard and I'm starving." Elena glanced at her at that, looking startled. Rowan ignored her look and added, "There's snacks set out, right? Preferable something sweet?" Elena smiled then. She didn't seem worried about Rowan starving anymore.

"Yep. There's peach cobbler—two peach cobblers, actually, since I bought one and Damon brought the other—and there's strawberry and vanilla ice cream in the fridge, and those mini cupcakes that you always used to steal from my house are hiding in the cabinet above the fridge." Rowan let out a small bit of laughter, leaning against Elena as she echoed the sound.

"All my favorites," Rowan commented. She had always had a strong sweet tooth, and she was suddenly grateful that it hadn't gone away. She could still enjoy cupcakes and ice cream and peach cobbler. It made happy giggles fall from her mouth, and those seemed to encourage Elena's own. Elena managed to invite her in through their laughter, and then they were inside, surrounded by the smell of barbecued burgers and fresh peach cobbler.

"Those cupcakes are for you," Elena said as they walked down the hall, toward the kitchen where everyone else seemed to be. "That's why I hid them. It's a sorry-I-didn't-tell-you-anything gift." Rowan rolled her eyes at that, nudging Elena in the side as they entered the kitchen.

"My hero," she teased. When Elena's cheeks tinted pink, and when Rowan suddenly found it very hard not to stare, she reached for the bowl of potato chips resting on the island. Maybe Caroline had the right idea. Maybe if she stuffed her face with food, she could distract herself from things, like how pretty Elena looked when she smiled, or how much she was suddenly starving.

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Rowan didn't particularly mind when Caroline and Elena disappeared a few hours later, when everyone stopped playing Pictionary and the adults started taking back shots like they were water. Rowan's throat felt parched by the time they had drove off, and her stomach started cramping a few minutes after that. She fiddled with her jacket in the hall while Alaric, Jenna, Damon, and Mason all started shouting like all drunk people did. It was getting dark, and even though she had wanted to walk there that afternoon, she felt sick thinking about it now. The last time she had walked in the dark, it hadn't ended well for her.

She decided to swallow her fear and just leave. She was slipping on her jacket when Damon strolled from the living room, saying that he was going to get another bottle of tequila. When he saw her, however, he twisted on his heel and made a beeline for her instead of the kitchen. Rowan rolled her eyes and turned to leave.

"Go away, demon," she said harshly, opening the door to leave. A moment later, it was being slammed shut. She glanced up to see a hand pressed to the door. She pulled at the handle, but the door didn't budge. Deciding not to risk breaking the door, she turned to face him, shoving at his chest as she did. Damon, not expecting the hit, stumbled back a few steps. They both looked surprised when he did. Rowan hadn't realized she was that strong. It wasn't like she had tested it before. To cover up her surprise, she crossed her arms and added, "Your name is one letter away from spelling out the word demon. Have you noticed that? I don't think it's a coincidence." She made a shooing motion with her hands, then formed a cross with her fingers and held it up to him. "Begone, demon."

She turned to leave. Damon stopped her again.

"Stefan, Elena, and Bonnie have all told me to stay away from you," Damon said, sounding way too casual. It made Rowan's blood boil. "Bonnie threatened me, actually. It made me wonder. Did you remember the roof incident? Because that wasn't personal."

"I would have respected you more if it was," she said harshly. "And it's not just that. It's everything. I still remember the bite marks and bruises on Caroline's body, even if nobody else seems to. You disgust me. Now go away."

"Oh, for God's sake," Damon huffed. He sounded incredulous. "She's alive, isn't she? You're alive, too."

"If it hadn't been for Stefan, I wouldn't be," she snapped.

"Technically, you're alive because of Katherine—"

"God," Rowan groaned, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling and taking a few seconds to calm her temper. "I'm already done with this conversation. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go puke up everything I've eaten today. Just the sight of your face makes me sick." This time, when she tried to leave, Damon didn't stop her.

She walked home in a rage, not even noticing that the fear was now gone. She was moving faster than seemed normal, walking at a speed that normally would have winded her within seconds. She was barely out of breath when she reached her house, and she went inside with a relieved sigh. As she closed and locked the door behind her, she heard the sound of chopping coming from the kitchen. She shrugged her jacket off as she walked in, draping it over one of the chairs lining the island. Her mother was chopping vegetables, her red hair piled up in a messy bun. She smiled when she saw Rowan.

"Hi, sweetie," Mary greeted as she gathered the bits of carrot and turned to dump them into a boiling pot. "Did you have fun at the barbecue?" Rowan shrugged.

"Yeah, mostly," she admitted. "Vegetable soup?" Her mother was now taking a bag of potatoes from the refrigerator. Mary nodded as she got to work chopping. Rowan watched until she was done before she straightened and tilted her head. "Can I help?" Her mother looked surprised by that, but delighted. Rowan hadn't offered to help her cook in years. It used to be a tradition between them.

"Sure. I hope you're hungry," her mother said, reaching to hug her daughter to her side when Rowan circled to her side of the island.

"Starving," Rowan said with a grin, and then they got to work. They talked about small things as they worked. Rowan asked where her father was; he was coming home late, maybe in an hour or two. Her mother asked her what happened at the barbecue, and Rowan mentioned how she ate an entire container of mini cupcakes while they all played Pictionary. Everything was nice and simple for half an hour, and Rowan was starting to think that, despite having a run in with Damon, it was probably one of her best days since turning into a vampire.

And then her mother cut her hand while rinsing the knife in the sink.

The scent hit Rowan immediately, making her head reel and her vision blur. She clutched the side of the island and tried to control herself, tried to take in deep breaths. Then her mother turned toward her to reach for a napkin, and she saw the blood smeared across her palm.

Rowan felt the ache as her fangs grew from her gums, felt her head and heart start to pound, and then everything around her seemed to go black, like someone had switched off the lights.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is getting easier and easier to write. When inspiration hits, I usually finish the chapter in one or two sittings. I love it.