CHAPTER SIX
THE REALITY OF THIS LIFE

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     "Oh my god." Those seemed to be the only words Rowan was capable of saying. She was covered in blood, her shirt was coated in it, and she kept slipping on the floor each time she moved. Her hand was desperately trying to stop the blood flowing from her mother's neck. She hadn't blacked out long, just a few seconds, but those few seconds were more than enough. Her mother had already lost consciousness, and she wasn't sure how much longer she had before her heart gave out. She knew, deep down, that she had ripped open some major vein, and she could hear her mother's heart slowing and slowing. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she choked back a sob as she scrambled for any idea on what to do. "Oh my god, mom, please. Please wake up. Please."

Suddenly remembering that vampires had healing abilities, she let go of her mother's neck and bit into her wrist so hard that more blood started to spill everywhere. She barely noticed the pain, barely noticed anything aside from the fact that her mother was dying. Because of her. She desperately pressed her wrist to her mother's mouth and waited. Waited to see if it would work. When she saw her mother swallow—if only a little bit—she looked at her neck and released a heart-wrenching sound when she saw the wound start to seal shut. It had worked. She bowed her head and pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs suddenly ripping up her throat. She cried until her throat was hoarse, until her eyes were red and puffy and she could barely see anything, much less breathe. Then she leaned down and cupped her mother's face, willing her to wake up and open her eyes.

She was healed. Rowan had healed her. She should have been awake.

"C'mon, mom," she said weakly, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her a little. Her eyelashes fluttered, but that was the only response she got. Panic started to rise in Rowan's chest. "Please. Please, momma, you have to wake up. Please." Her voice cracked, and then she was on her feet, scrambling for the landline phone on the kitchen counter. She barely noticed the blood smearing the number pad. She typed in the number that kept repeating in her head. She hadn't even realized she had memorized it until that moment. She had to call twice before the person answered, and Rowan let out another sob when they did.

"Hello?"

"Stefan?" Rowan said, and she could barely recognize her own voice. For a moment, she wondered if Stefan would. There was a beat of silence, and then she could hear Stefan telling people to move, could hear him shoving through a crowd of people, could hear a restaurant door being shoved open. After that, all she could hear was the quiet of an empty street and cars driving by on the road. By then, Rowan was able to talk again, and she didn't bother explaining. She just started spitting out random words in a blind panic. "Stefan, please. Please help me. I didn't—I didn't mean to, I didn't, please—" She broke into another round of sobs again, leaning against the counter for support and smearing even more blood. She didn't want to look at the mess she had made, didn't want to look at her mother still lying unconscious on the ground.

"Hey, hey, hey, slow down," Stefan ordered. He sounded so calm, so reasonable. Rowan wondered how he did it. Wondered if he had been where she was now. She choked on another sob. "Hey, I need you to calm down, alright? Breathe with me." He didn't have to exaggerate his breathing. She could hear it just fine, and she matched her own to his, closing her eyes and trying to calm herself. It wasn't working very well, but at least she was trying. "Good, good. Where are you?"

"Home," she whispered, voice breaking. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter. "I'm h-home." She heard a car door unlock, heard it swing open, heard him climb inside. Hearing him move around helped calm her better than regulating her breathing had. Getting into a car was normal. Talking on the phone was normal. Driving to a friend's house was normal. Focus on one thing at a time, she told herself. Focus on Stefan driving. Everything will be fine.

Everything was hardly fine, but she could pretend, for now.

"I'm on my way," Stefan said, and the sound of his engine turning on made relief flow through her. She nearly collapsed to the ground, barely managing to catch herself on the counter. "Can you tell me what happened?" She shook her head, even though he couldn't see it. She kept her eyes shut. She knew if she opened them, she would look at her mother.

"I-I don't know," she admitted. Everything before she blacked out was a blur of confusion. She remembered they were making dinner together. The next thing she knew, she was covered in blood and staring down at her mother's body in horror. "One second, I was helping my mom cook, and the next I—Stefan—"

"I need you to stay calm, Rowan," Stefan cut in quickly, sounding worried suddenly. Rowan sucked in a sharp breath and felt a flash of irrational anger. "I know it's hard, but you have to try. Remember what I said. Everything can turn into hunger." Rowan swallowed her anger and glanced at all the blood on the floor. Her breath hitched again. There was a beat of silence, and then Stefan asked gently, "Is she alive?"

"Yes," she said, tears filling her eyes again. She wiped them away. She knew there was probably blood all over her by now, but she couldn't have cared less. At her response, she heard Stefan let out a small breath of relief. "I can hear her heart beating, and she's breathing regularly, but her heart, it's...it's slow. I fed her my blood, Stefan, she should be awake by now, right? Why isn't she waking up?"

"That's normal," Stefan reassured quickly. "Vampire blood can't really do anything for blood loss—it can't replace the blood, but it can heal the damage—but she should be fine soon. Stay with her. I'll be there soon." He hung up after that, and Rowan finally allowed herself to sink to the floor. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, curling up into a tight ball and pressing her forehead to her knees. She didn't know how long she sat there. It could have ranged from five minutes to five hours. Time didn't seem to be real. When she heard a car pull into her driveway, she didn't move, and just sat where she was as Stefan entered her home and came into the kitchen. She only looked up when Stefan crouched in front of her and placed a hand on her arm, squeezing gently to get her attention. It was only then that she realized she was trembling.

"Go get cleaned up," he whispered, releasing her arm and putting all his weight on his haunches as he surveyed the kitchen. There was no judgement on his face, no pity, just a sadness he seemed to feel in his bones. She had been doing so well, had been controlling herself so well. Rowan didn't know what it meant that she had blacked out at the scent of blood, didn't know what that was a sign of, but Stefan did, and it seemed to weigh him down, his shoulders sagging at the mere possibility of it. "I'll take care of this."

"But—" Rowan started. Stefan shook his head and made himself give a gentle smile, if only for her sake.

"I'll take care of it," he repeated, voice soft. "Just go get cleaned up." Rowan stared at him for a long time, trying to get her body to work. Focus on one thing at a time, she reminded herself. The first thing she focused on was getting to her feet, though Stefan helped her, slipping a hand into hers and squeezing. If she had been thinking properly, she would have felt guilty about treating Stefan like an acquaintance she was disdainful of. He had been nothing but kind to her, even when she hadn't deserved it. Like now.

The next thing she focused on was getting her feet to move, then forcing herself to climb the stairs. It didn't occur to her that she was probably leaving bloody footprints on the wooden stairs until she was in her bathroom and she noticed the blood on her tiled floor. By that point, a numbness had started seeping through her. It didn't feel like she was even in her own body. She stripped off her clothes and left them in her sink. She thought about taking off her necklace as well, but the thought of not feeling it around her neck made her panic for unknown reasons, so she climbed into the shower with it on, a hand clutched around the blue stone like it was a lifeline.

It wasn't until she saw the blood washing off her and swirling down the drain that she curled up into a ball and cried. Cried until the water started running clear, until her throat was on fire and the water started running cold.

When she came back downstairs, now in sweats and her hair dripping down her back, all the blood was gone. She stared around the kitchen in amazement. It reeked of chemicals—the stench burned her nose—but everything seemed to be spotless, cleaner than Rowan had ever seen it. Stefan turned from where he was stuffing a bunch of paper towels into a black trash bag and held out his hand for the clothes, now dried with blood, bundled in Rowan's arms. She handed them over without a word and ducked her head. He disappeared through the back door—off to get rid of the evidence—and that was when Rowan noticed both of her parents sitting silently at the dining table. She tilted her head and approached them, but they didn't look at her. They just stared into space. She was waving her hand in front of her father's face when Stefan came back in.

"What did you do to them?" she demanded, planting her hands on her hips and looking at him with disapproval.

"Your mom woke up a little after you got into the shower," he said with a grimace. "Your dad drove up five minutes after that. He walked in on me trying to calm your mother down. I had to compel them to stay calm. I'm sorry, Rowan, but—" He broke off and pressed his lips together. Rowan eyed him for a moment, then swallowed thickly and looked at her parents again. He slowly approached her and stopped at her side. "You can decide what you want to do from here. You can make them forget and go on living as normal, but you'll have to do it. I'm not exactly...strong enough for that kind of compulsion. Animal blood has its limits." Rowan licked her lips and considered her options. None of them were very pleasant, and they all led to the same conclusion.

"I can't stay here," she whispered, voice cracking. Her throat was still raw from crying so much. Stefan didn't respond. Rowan looked at him. "I don't have anywhere to stay, but I can't stay here. Not after this." Stefan didn't look surprised by her decision.

"You can stay with me," he said, offering her a small shrug. "I know it's not ideal, but for tonight, you can stay with me. There's plenty of spare bedrooms." Even though she knew that Damon lived there as well, as the Salvatore Boarding House, she was still relieved. At least she wouldn't be homeless, and the house was big enough to avoid Damon when required. Maybe she could get Bonnie to make her room a Damon-free zone.

"How do I...um..."

"Just tell them what you want them to believe. Let your mind reach out." Rowan nodded and pressed her palms flat on the table. She glanced between her two parents, who were sitting side-by-side, and took a deep breath. She looked her mother in the eye first. The first time this had happened, it had seemed surreal to Rowan, like a miracle that would go away. Now she could feel her mind expanding, wrapping around her mother's mind like a cocoon.

"You're going to forget tonight ever happened," Rowan ordered, and waited for a moment, wondering if it worked. A moment later, her mother blinked, still looking dazed.

"I'm going to forget tonight ever happened," she repeated, her voice monotone. It made a shiver go down Rowan's spine. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You never forgave me for disappearing without an explanation for days," she forced out, voice growing thick. She kept stopping to swallow the lump in her throat down. "You put your foot down and told me to either follow the rules of this house or leave. I left, and you let me. It's better this way." She paused to collect herself, then turned toward her father and said the exact same thing. Hearing her parents repeat her own words back to her made her want to disappear. Once she was sure that she wouldn't cry, she turned toward Stefan and said, "Can you help me pack? I have a lot of shit."

Many trips later, Rowan was in one of the spare bedrooms in the Salvatore Boarding House, surrounded by suitcases and boxes. She didn't unpack any of it. She just sat at the bottom of the huge bed and stared into space, wondering how in the world things had gone so wrong in such a short period of time.

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"This is a great idea, Stefan," Rowan deadpanned the next day as Stefan drove them both to what she knew as Mystic Falls Historical Society Volunteer Day. It was a long, clever charity-driven name to cover up the fact that they were using their free labor to build a park. Rowan remembered that she had signed up—all the cheerleaders had, since Caroline was captain and she was obsessed with charity work—but now she felt sick, seeing all the people running around. She waited until Stefan had parked and shut his engine off before she continued. "Bringing me to a place filled to the brim with very tasty-looking humans. Really, Stefan. This is great."

Stefan heaved a sigh and pressed his head back against the armrest. She didn't blame him for being exasperated. She had been complaining in a sarcastic, dry tone ever since Stefan had appeared in her bedroom doorway and told her to get dressed.

"You can handle it," he said, and Rowan believed that he believed that. Rowan wasn't so confident. She glanced out the window uneasily, and Stefan turned his head to look at her. "It's important that you keep up appearances, Rowan. You can't just disappear." She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. Disappearing seemed like a pretty nice thing to her. She had tried disappearing under her covers that morning. It had been perfectly comfy and relaxing until Stefan ordered her to socialize.

"I don't know," she muttered. "Disappearing has always worked for me."

"I don't think it has," Stefan said bluntly, and Rowan scowled at him. She had liked it better when he was intimidated by her. "Did anyone tell you about the Council?" Rowan blinked at that, then nodded. Apparently, the town had a council filled with people who hated vampires. There was even a vampire-hunting portion of the police force. She wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't heard the stories. "They notice this kind of behavior, Rowan. I know you have a habit of disappearing—Elena always worried whenever it happened before—but it's never happened this much, right? I'm sure Caroline has mentioned it to Liz." Rowan felt a flash of unease. She knew Sheriff Forbes was involved. "People acting strangely, disappearing more than usual, it's what they look for. It could put you in danger. Just—please work with me."

"Fine," Rowan said with a sigh, pretending not to notice when Stefan practically sagged with relief. "Whatever you say, O Great Mentor." Stefan snorted at that, clearly not appreciating it. She flashed him a smile, then straightened and turned her entire body toward him. "Before we go out and socialize—something we both clearly hate—let me get this right. This whole Elena situation, I mean. You two are pretending to be broken up and are fake-fighting because...?" Stefan had told her as they were driving to the charity drive. The only reason he had even admitted it was because he knew Rowan was too smart to be fooled by it. Plus, she had seen him texting her as they were driving.

"Because Katherine is forcing Caroline to spy on us," Stefan said, keeping his response short. His fingers were drumming across the steering wheel.

"Caroline?" Rowan tilted her head to the side and frowned. "Why didn't she use me?"

"I guess it's because Caroline is easier to intimidate and manipulate for her," Stefan admitted. "Even as a human, you were..."

Rowan smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Bitchy?" she offered.

"Kind of scary," Stefan said instead. Rowan barked out a laugh and opened the car door.

"I'm flattered," was all she said in response. She glanced around her as she stuffed her hands into her jean-jacket pockets. It was early March, and even though it was still chilly, almost everyone around her was wearing either short-sleeved shirts or thin sweaters. She frowned and actually paid attention to the weather, but it didn't seem any different than when she had first turned. It had never occurred to her that vampires couldn't feel the cold. She wondered if they could feel the heat, too. She hoped not. She hated hot weather.

Twisting on the heel of her boots, she circled the car and stopped beside Stefan. He was watching someone in the distance. Rowan, expecting to see Damon, followed his gaze and blinked in surprise when she saw Mason Lockwood. He had been looking at Stefan as well, but when he saw her he broke into a grin and raised his hand in a wave. Rowan smiled and waved back, then dug her elbow into Stefan's side. He let out a low grunt and swatted her elbow away.

"Is he really a werewolf?" she asked as he turned to walk toward the place where people were getting assignments. "Like, are you sure? I've known him my entire life and he's never seemed like a werewolf." Then again, Liz Forbes had never seemed like a vampire hunter, either. She grimaced at the thought.

"I'm sure," was all Stefan said, and then he was sighing and walking toward Mason. Rowan blanched and came to a halt.

"Wait, what are you doing?" she asked, startled. He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"I'm going to go talk to him," he said, then saw her confused expression and turned to walk toward her again. "Damon pissed him off yesterday and the last thing we need is a werewolf as an enemy. Especially not with Katherine in town and the Council looking closer than ever." Rowan made a sound of frustration.

"What does Katherine even want?" she demanded. She didn't seem to have a goal—not one she had revealed yet, at least—and Rowan found it hard to believe that the only reason she was in Mystic Falls was because she thought it was fun to mess with them. There had to be a reason. There had to be. The thought of all her suffering being because of boredom would never sit well with her.

"She claims she's here for me. To get me back and continue our love story, even though she had compelled me through most of it—" Stefan broke off abruptly and grimaced in disgust, glancing away. Rowan suddenly felt sick. She couldn't imagine being in a romantic relationship like that, being unable to leave because a vampire had compelled her to not be afraid. A relationship like that wasn't consensual, because the ability to give proper consent was taken away the second mind control came into play. A shiver of disgust went down her spine. "She threatened everyone if I didn't break up with Elena."

"That's so fucked up," Rowan said bitterly, wrapping her arms around her middle and glancing away. "I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry that happened to Caroline. I wish I could travel back in time and stop it somehow." Stefan didn't respond, looking a little pale, and Rowan smiled at him in order to diffuse the sudden solemn atmosphere. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think she's telling the truth."

"I don't think she is, either. All this stuff with me and Elena—with you, even—it's all just a game to her. She's here for something else, and this is just a way for her to pass the time. I just don't know what she's waiting for."

"Alright, well, that's clearly a problem for another day," Rowan decided, officially changing the subject, clapping her hands together and glancing around. "Go solve our werewolf one. I'll just...paint a fucking bench or something."

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Half an hour later, true to her word, Rowan was painting something, though it wasn't a bench. It was a fence stretching across the small little waterfall that flowed into a river. It was placed there as a safety precaution, specifically for kids. Rowan was, thankfully, being left alone with her part of the fence, and she found herself painting designs with the white paint she was given, twisting the brush so that she could paint swirls and flowers before she had to cover it all up completely. She was adding small dots inside the swirls when someone flopped down beside her. She cast an annoyed look at the person, then sighed heavily when she saw that it was Caroline.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled as she dipped her brush into the paint at her hip and quickly painted over the designs on the wood. It meant she was finished with her part of the fence, though, and since she didn't have another assignment, she had no choice but to turn toward Caroline.

"Clinging to you so I don't have to spend time with my mom," Caroline said, pouting slightly when Rowan rose to her feet with the paint bucket in hand and her brush in the other. She quickly followed regardless, and even went so far as to link their arms together. Rowan bit her tongue on all the scathing words rushing up her throat. She wasn't sure why she was bothering. She never had before. Perhaps Stefan's kindness was rubbing off on her, was making her think before she spoke. It occurred to her that everyone around her was in enough pain as it was. She didn't need to add to it. "She's being very...enthusiastic today, and it's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm just not used to it, you know? Well, maybe you don't. You have a good relationship with your mom."

Rowan bit down on her bottom lip and let Caroline ramble. She didn't seem to know what had happened the night before, and Rowan was suddenly grateful toward Stefan. He hadn't told anyone, it seemed, aside from Damon, who had demanded to know why Rowan was moving into their house. Which, fair enough, he lived there, but that hadn't stopped Rowan from throwing a heel at his head and screaming at him to shut the hell up. She'd had a very bad night, so her lack of manners had been excused. Still, she had expected someone to tell—Damon, at least—but it seemed he hadn't told anyone either. Maybe Elena knew. Rowan didn't know whether she liked the thought of that or not.

Caroline was still rambling when Rowan couldn't bite her tongue anymore.

"Caroline," she said sharply, and Caroline stiffened all over before she spotted someone ahead of them. She let out her breath in relief.

"Oh, thank god," she said. Rowan hadn't realized how tense she had been during her rambling until that moment. It hadn't occurred to her that Caroline was rambling because of Rowan, not because her mother was actually bothering her. Caroline had been checking on her, in her own way. Of course she was. She didn't come to Rowan to complain about her parents, didn't usually ramble to her, because that wasn't the type of relationship they had, and Caroline knew Rowan didn't have the patience for it. She was clinging to her and rambling to her because she was worried about her, and Rowan suddenly felt so, so guilty.

"Caroline—" Rowan started, voice softer now. Either Caroline didn't hear her, or she interrupted her on purpose.

"There's Elena!" Caroline said, sounding cheerful now, like nothing had happened. She tugged Rowan along, and Rowan let her with no complaints, suddenly pliant in Caroline's hands. "You always have less of an attitude when she's around. Come on!" For some reason, blood rushed to Rowan's cheeks at that. Elena glanced up from where she was painting a veranda when they neared. The smile she gave them made Rowan's mind go blank.

Suddenly, she wasn't so miserable anymore.

"And you came with more paint," Elena said warmly, eyeing the paint bucket still in Rowan's hands. She had forgotten she was holding it. Smiling, Elena patted the spot on the grass beside her, and Rowan took a seat before she could think about it. Caroline took Elena's other side, and they got to work in comfortable silence. Eventually, Elena leaned into Rowan's side and nudged her gently with an arm.

"Pretty," Elena said softly, and Rowan blinked rapidly and looked at her, then turned her head to stare at the spot she had been painting on. She had started painting swirls again. She didn't know how to respond to Elena's compliment, though she didn't need to. Before she even could, Elena leaned forward with her paintbrush and swiped it across Rowan's cheek. A shriek flew from her mouth.

"Elena!" she screamed, and that—along with Elena's sudden bout of loud laughter—made multiple people around them turn and give them disapproving looks. Nearby, Caroline was laughing as well, though she also looked amazed. Like she couldn't believe Elena had actually done something like that to Rowan Cartwright, who had once verbally assaulted someone in the hallways just because they had accidentally knocked into her shoulder. That amazement grew into disbelief when Rowan retaliated by dipping her brush into the white paint and flicking it toward Elena, making the other girl shriek through her laughter.

The only reason the two of them didn't dissolve into an outright paint war was because an officer supervising the charity event came over and scolded them. Caroline had taken care of it, dropping her mother's name casually in order to get him to go away. He did, and the three of them once again dissolved into comfortable silence, though that stopped when Elena and Caroline started painting pictures on the veranda as well. Elena wrote quotes and pretty words in cursive, and Caroline started painting flowers. This time, they didn't paint over them.

Things became serious again when Caroline asked why Damon was talking to the werewolf. Rowan glanced up and followed her gaze, frowning when she saw them at the wooden tables where food and drinks were being served. Without a word, Rowan got to her feet and started over to them. She passed Mason on the way to Damon, and she paused to look at where he was going. He stopped to talk to a police officer—the same one who had come to interrupt their paint fight—and she felt a flash of unease when Mason glanced back at her, then smiled when he noticed her staring. She tentatively smiled back, then twisted around and hurried toward Damon. She reached him the same time Stefan did.

"Please tell me you were just bonding," Stefan said.

"Please tell me you didn't do something stupid," Rowan said. Damon ignored both of their questions.

"So what's up with this faux drama in your relationship?" Damon asked, looking straight at Stefan. Rowan arched an eyebrow when Stefan tried to brush it off, very badly. Damon scoffed. "Oh, come on, Stefan. You and Elena don't fight, especially not over me." At that, Rowan gave Stefan a disbelieving look.

"Please tell me you two didn't actually bring Damon into your fake arguments," she said flatly, and rolled her eyes when Stefan gave her a sheepish shrug. "I hate to say this, but he's got a point. Are you trying to get caught?" Stefan scowled.

"Drop it," he demanded, and Rowan and Damon both shrugged.

"With pleasure," Damon muttered to himself before he turned toward the table serving lemonade. He smiled when the little girl behind the table asked him if he wanted a cup. "Thank you, sweetie. Can I get another for my friend here?" Once he had two cups in hand, he turned toward Rowan and placed one into her hand. She stared at it for a moment, puzzled, then turned a withering glare up at Damon's face. She opened her mouth to say something along the lines of Go fuck yourself with a lemon, demon but he was speaking before she could.

Stefan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, already knowing what Damon was going to say.

"Look," Damon started, and Rowan thought of dumping the contents of the cup over his egotistical head. "You've made it abundantly clear that you hate my guts. I get it. I'm pretty good at being hated." Stefan scoffed from nearby, like that was an understatement, and Rowan made a sound of agreement. Damon shot an annoyed look at his brother. "But we live together now and I figure I might as well offer up a peace offering before you try to kill me in my sleep." Rowan arched an eyebrow.

"How did you know my plans?" she demanded, looking at Stefan and pretending to be aghast. "Did you tell him my plans? Traitor." Stefan smiled at her. Damon let out an impatient sigh.

"I'm extending an olive branch," he said, clearly annoyed. "Take it." Rowan eyed him warily. She didn't particularly trust him or like him, but she had to admit that he had a point. Life would be hell if they were constantly arguing every single day, and she was pretty sure he would up and kill her if things got too bad. The only thing he risked killing her was losing Elena, and that had already happened when he had snapped her brother's neck right in front of her. The two of them had a tentative peace now, but if Damon hurt a hair on Rowan's head, they both knew that Elena would probably find a way to kill Damon herself. Not to mention Caroline, Bonnie, Stefan, and anyone else who would come to Rowan's defense. Rowan tilted her head and lifted her plastic cup of lemonade. Damon clinked their cups together. "Perfect. Cheers."

Rowan brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip, since she wasn't a big fan of lemonade to begin with. The small sip was enough. It felt like acid was poured down her throat. The cup fell from her fingers and a cough ripped up her throat. She bent at the waist and heaved, barely catching herself on a nearby table before she could fall to her knees. The lemonade rushed back up her throat. When she spit on the ground beneath her, she saw blood, probably from where her throat had burned. She continued to cough even as the burning subsided.

"Vervain!" Damon was saying through his own coughing, answering Stefan's question on what was wrong. Bonnie had told her about vervain, but Rowan had never in a million years imagined it would have felt like that.

"What the fuck—" she started, breaking off in another cough. Stefan was by her side, rubbing at her back. Damon recovered faster than she did. He was on his feet in seconds, looking angrier than Rowan had ever seen him. It made her uneasy.

"I'm going to kill him," he said harshly, then shoved at Stefan's hands when Stefan tried to get him to sit back down. "I'm not listening to anymore of your give-peace-a-chance crap. He's dead!" With a start, Rowan realized they were talking about Mason. There wasn't anyone else they could have been speaking of. Part of her knew that she should have objected to the idea. Tyler was her best friend, though they were distant now, and she knew how much Mason meant to him. The other part of her remembered him talking to the officer, remembered the look he had given her, and realized that he wouldn't spare her just because she meant a lot to Tyler. Why should she spare him for Tyler's sake if he wouldn't do the same for her?

"Okay," Stefan conceded, taking a deep breath and glancing around for eavesdroppers. "Okay, you're right. I don't like it, but he's making threats. He could expose us, so we need to put him down." Damon looked surprised by Stefan agreeing. He had probably thought he'd put up more of a fight.

"Alright," Damon said finally. "Let's do it." He glanced at Rowan, who was rubbing at her throat with a dark, livid expression. "Stay here."

"Fuck you," Rowan said immediately, though staying there was exactly what she had planned on doing. Damon scowled before he and Stefan went off to find Mason. She scowled to herself, then got to her feet. If there was vervain in the lemonade, then it was easy to assume that there was vervain in all the other drinks as well. With that thought in mind, she went to find Caroline. She went to the veranda first, but when she saw that it was deserted, she frowned and turned to survey the park. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand fell onto her shoulder.

"Rowan Cartwright?" a man asked, and she turned to see a man in a police uniform. That same unease from before flooded through her, but before she could step away, his hand came up. A needle jabbed into her neck. It wasn't like drinking vervain. The feeling was different. It hurt in a different kind of way, in a way where her muscles burned and ached after a hard workout. Her limbs collapsed beneath her, like all her muscles had turned to liquid.

The last thing she remembered before she passed out was the police officer saying, "I got the other one."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I love soft girlfriends and I love Rowan with all my heart and soul.

Rowan and Stefan are true lesbian and bisexual solidarity and I just...

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