ATHENA

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really getting sick and tired of pancakes," I mutter while shovelling down another forkful of the sickly sweet breakfast Damon has cooked up.

"I hate pancakes," Bonnie declares bluntly.

"Well, then," Damon says. "Bon-Bon and Legolas can cook breakfast tomorrow, then."

I roll my eyes. "I'm the baby of the group here. I should technically be doing nothing."

"You're nineteen," Damon argues, raising his eyebrows.

"And you're, like, two hundred years old," I point out. I stab another piece of pancake and wolf it down.

"One hundred and seventy four. There's a difference," he says.

"Old people," I mutter, widening my eyes and shaking my head.

"Young people," he replies dryly.

It's been like this for four months now. Damon, Bonnie and I are always at each other's throats, barely tolerating each other save for the fact that we're all each other has now. It's not that I don't like Bonnie or Damon, per se, but being with same two people for four months in an empty hell really takes a toll on your tolerance.

After the Other Side was destroyed, Damon, Bonnie and I were transported to some version of hell. The thing is, it isn't exactly hell. No fiery pits, no little red man with a pitchfork. Just May 10th, 1994 over and over again. The same eclipse looming in the light blue sky every day at the same time. Never earlier. Never later. Another thing that strikes me as strange is the lack of other people. In hell isn't there meant to be a whole colony of sinners burning together? In our hell, there was only me, the sarcastic vampire and the witch with no powers.

Damon studies the newspaper next to Bonnie's elbow. "Look who got 27 across."

Bonnie raises her eyebrows. "Huh, I wish. 27 across is a rock I am pushing up an endless mountain."

"It's an old tongue twister," Damon explains, eyes still fixed on the small black and white crossword. " 'Eddie turned top 40?' Eddie Vedder, Pearl Jam? 'Yellow Ledbetter.' "

"Are you messing with me?" Bonnie asks, eyes widened accusingly.

"No... You messing with me?" Damon retorts. Bonnie shakes her head. Damon shifts his eyes to me and raises an eyebrow.

I raise my hands in a gesture of innocence. "Don't look at me," I mumble through a mouthful of pancake.

Bonnie purses her lips. "I didn't finish this."

I clasp my hands in front of me on the table, eyebrows raised. "Well, neither did I," I say.

Bonnie's eyes flicker with worry. "There's someone else here."

"Bon, if there's someone else here, don't you think they would've made contact already?" I reason. "I don't know if you've noticed but there doesn't seem to be any friendly strangers around here to keep company with."

"But grams sent us here for a reason, right?" she asks, eyes wide. She looks so hopeful it actually hurts, I think to myself. If there was one thing I was good at, it was thinking without false hope. The past had moulded me into something of an untrusting person and at first even the prospect of being welcomed into Bonnie and Damon's group conjured up wariness.

Even so, I had been warmly welcomed into their little dysfunctional family. Of course there were people who I didn't mesh well with but all in all, it was comforting to know I had allies. In some ways I had broken all my rules on trust. For one, I sacrificed myself in an explosion to kill a group of pesky Travellers thinking I would be resurrected minutes later.

But here I was in an endless loop of a day in 1994.

Either way, I knew that it was probably smarter to be with them than against them. Being exiled by the Amazons was not a good position to be in. Especially when they were hunting you down for breaking one of their most sacred rules. That's when I resorted to seeking an alliance with Bonnie and Damon's group of vampires. I knew the group from, to put it in simple terms, a mutual friend.

"Bon Bon," Damon sighs. "It's been four months and yet here we are. I think your grams would've sent someone by now."

"It's called hope, Damon," Bonnie snaps.

"False hope," Damon corrects her.

I get to my feet. "Just cut it out, alright?" I say through gritted teeth. "Damon, stop being an asshole to Bonnie. We all need a little hope sometimes."

Damon rolls his eyes and gives me a dry smirk. "Stop taking sides. Just because you hate Enzo, doesn't mean you have to hate me."

"Is that what you think this is about? Enzo for god's sake?" I feel my hands curling into fists by my side. "It has something more to do with the fact that you have this insane tendency to get on people's nerves and always think you're right. That's what this is about."

"You know, Enzo was right. You do get boring very quickly," Damon says cuttingly.

I don't realise my hand is edging towards my knife until the cold metal of the hilt is pressing into my palm. I fling it just past Damon's head, my aim not to hit him but to scare him. The knife whooshes past so close that his hair ruffles as the flash of silver passes past his ear. He flinches momentarily, his eyes alarmed. 

I feel my lips curving into a slight smile. I skirt around the table and make a beeline for the door. The frustration bubbles up inside of me. As if being stuck with Damon wasn't bad enough, being stuck with him for eternity did actually start to sound like hell.

I stop walking and plop down in the grass. It's like Damon thinks being stuck in hell is one big joke, I think to myself. I pick off a blade of grass and toss it. It only goes a short distance and I groan. I pick off a bigger clump of grass and dirt and send it landing further.

"Having fun ruining the environment of 1994 there?" Damon asks. I turn around partially at the vampire leaning against the tree behind me. "Weren't you, like, a fetus during this time?"

"Yes," I grumble. "And I'm having a lot of fun, thank you very much. Even the trees are better company than you."

"Ouch," he says. "This place really is driving you crazy." He approaches cautiously and sets himself down beside me with a sigh. He wraps his arms around his knees as he sits. "As much as it pains me to say it, I was wrong in saying what I said." His voice lowers to a hushed tone. "Bonnie made me apologise," he says, offering up a lopsided wry smile. "Anyway," he says louder. "I know you've always been a Stefan girl - I mean, I don't blame you, the intimidating eyebrows, the bland personality, the really annoying thing about honour and blah, blah, blah - but I was hoping you'd forgive me since, between the two of us, we're never getting out of here."

I squint slightly. "Is that Damon Salvatore apologising?" He shoots me a look. "I'm sorry for throwing the knife near your head before. Little Damon must've gotten scared." I say the last part in a mockingly childish voice just for dramatic effect, jutting my lower lip out into a pout.

The look he gives me is so cold that you would've thought he'd have killed me right then and there. He eventually speaks. "I've had enough of you, Legolas," he says. "Now, get up. We're going to the grocery store."

The grocery store is a building nestled away in a quiet shopping strip. For some reason, the walk to the convenience store seems longer today and by the end of it I'm left wondering if any of this whole superhuman strength and speed thing is just a whole lot overrated.

Damon pushes the cart forward, leaning on it more than anything. "Okay," Bonnie says, reading the small slip of paper in her hand. Her voice almost echoes in the vast empty store. "We need strawberries, eggs, milk and - oooh, candles!"

Damon sighs. "I know it's been a while, but you couldn't do magic as an Anchor. So I'm curious what momentary lapse of reason makes you think you can do it now?"

I groan internally. Does he ever stop?

Damon steers the shopping cart into another aisle. "You know, when all this started, you sucked at making pancakes and now, they're somewhat edible," Bonnie points out.

"Milk," I mutter as we come to the refrigerated section. I pull open the door and grab a bottle, fitting it into the cart along with all our other groceries.

"We have proof we're not alone, Pessimist Pete," Bonnie says, pulling three pairs of sunglasses off of a rack.

"First of all, don't nickname. That's my thing," Damon says, taking a pair of sunglasses and putting them on. "Second of all, the only proof is a mysteriously filled in crossword that could've easily have been you."

"I didn't fill it in," Bonnie declares.

"You don't know you didn't fill it in. You also don't know that you talk in your sleep," Damon says. He points to another refrigerator. "Eggs."

"Are you saying she sleep crosswords?" I ask, grabbing a carton of eggs.

"I'm saying it makes more sense than the alternative," Damon says, snatching the eggs from my hand and putting them into the basket.

"I get what you're doing," Bonnie says. "You're refusing to have hope that you'll ever see Elena again so you don't have to be disappointed."

"I'm refusing to have hope because there's nothing to have hope for," Damon says, his voice growing impatient.

Bonnie stops in her tracks. "Pork rinds," she says, looking curiously at the shelf with the pork rinds on them.

I pick up the shopping list. "Not on the list," I say.

"And ew," Damon adds. I scoff.

"No," Bonnie says. "There were pork rinds here on this shelf. There's been pork rinds here on every shopping trip we've had for four months." She gestures towards the shelf impatiently. Damon nods so subtly that I almost miss it.

And that's when I hear it, faint at first but growing louder with every beat. Music from a carousel. "You hear that?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. This place really is starting to seem like hell, I think to myself. It's got the creepy music and everything.

Bonnie sets off at a fast walk and Damon and I sidle up behind her. The carousel outside is on, the horses circling the pole in the middle all while the creepy music continues to play.

"Hear that Damon?" Bonnie asks. "That's what hope sounds like."

I crease my eyebrows and peer around anxiously. "I don't know," I say. "It sorta sounds like a serial killing clown is going to pop out of the shadows and slit our throats. You know, I saw this movie once and th-"

"There's got to be a short, faulty wiring. Something," Damon interrupts. He kneels down in front of the metal box at the foot of one of the horses and opens it up, peering inside.

"Or maybe someone put a quarter in it and turned it on," Bonnie points out.

"You know I'm a little confused, all this misplaced hope," Damon says, fiddling around with the wires inside the box some more. "Alright, let's just say someone's here. How do you think they're going to get us out?"

"Well, you're convinced that this is your hell. If someone else is here, then it's not your hell and if it's not your hell, then grams put us here and if grams put us here then there's a way out."

Damon looks up at her. "That's a hell of a logic knot you've tied yourself there," he says.

"Thank you," she says. "Now that we've properly placed our hope, let's play a game. What's the first thing you're going to tell Elena when you get out of here?"

"I'm going to tell her that I'm sorry that I killed Bonnie because she was the most annoying person in the world. She just wouldn't shut up. I mean it's a wonder that I made it as long as I did, but here's the thing: I think it's better this way. I mean, she didn't have magic and she was pretty much useless."

Bonnie stops in her tracks. "Damon," she interjects.

"What?" he asks, turning around.

"Still think I'm useless?" she asks, gesturing towards a light blue car. Damon's car.

Damon puffs out his cheeks, his eyebrows raised. "That's my car," he announces in awe. And then, as if only just registering the importance of this, he repeats it, this time louder and more passionate. "That's my car!" he yells, throwing his hands up.

He hauls the door open and sinks into the driver's seat. He grips the wheel with both hands and...and starts making racing car noises. "Oh, boy," I mutter, folding my arms over my chest. One hundred and seventy four and still acting like a ten year old boy.

Bonnie speaks over the extremely irritating sound. "How much longer are we going to listen-"

Damon holds a finger over his lips. "Shh," he shushes her. "This sound is the opposite sound of your voice and I so enjoy it."

She tilts her head slightly. "How did it even get here, Damon? Did you leave it here in 1994?"

"I don't know, Bonnie," he says. "It was eighteen years ago, a lot going on on this day."

"Okay, so you admit that it's unlikely that you left it here?" Bonnie asks, raising her eyebrows.

"Very unlikely," Damon confirms.

"Which stands to reason that..." She waits for Damon to finish.

"That someone might have put it here, yes, I admit that." He gets a nostalgic, glazed eyed look to him. His voice is quiet when he speaks next. "I'm going to tell her I love her." Elena. He pauses. "And then I'm going to apologise for killing you."

I see something move out of the corner of my eye. "Did you just see that?" I ask. Whatever moved just a second ago moves again, this time more noticeably.

Damon eyes the flash of movement. "I did now," he says, getting out of the car. "Let's go meet our little friend."

We've been searching the surroundings for around twenty minutes when we finally decide to give up. "It was behind the pickup," Bonnie says.

"No. It was over there," I say, pointing someplace to my far left.

"Absolutely. I'm sure it was right there," Damon declares. My eyes follow where he's pointing to our so-called neighbour.

I feel my lips twist into a frown. "It was a tarp. We were looking at a tarp," I say. I run a hand through my hair. "I feel so stupid right now."

It's at that precise moment that the carousel decides to start up again. Damon sighs. "The carousel just turned on by itself. It's on a timer." He looks thoughtfully at the car. "I left it here in 1994," he breathes.

"And the crossword?" Bonnie asks, slitting her eyes slightly at him.

"You did it," he says. "Which means we're alone, in my own personal hell, with no grams escape hatch. We're never getting out."

Bonnie makes a grab at Damon's hand. "Then give me your ring," she says.

"What?" he asks, alarmed.

"Give me your ring," she yells. "All I've heard you say is that you have no hope, this is your hell. If it's so bad, why don't you just end it?" She wrestles his hand towards her. Damon pushes her away. "Hope is what keeps me going, Damon," she says. "So if you're done, if you have no hope, then be really done. Because this isn't helping."

And with that, she storms off. When Damon turns back to me, his expression is sour. I offer him a halfhearted smile. "She'll get over it," I say.

"Yeah, I hope so," he snaps. "Because forever is an awfully long time to hold a grudge."

He begins to walk back towards the store. I fall into step beside him. "Have you ever thought about whether there is anyone else here? I mean, not Mystic Falls. I mean Greece, Japan, South Africa: I mean the world. It seems too vast for there only to be the three of us."

"Too bad we can't fly a plane," he mutters nonchalantly.

"Ahh, always so optimistic. How do you do it, Damon?" I ask as we pass through the doors of the store. We go to the where we left the shopping cart. Damon picks up the shopping list and studies it for what to grab next.

I take it out of his hand and then drop it back into the cart. "You know what we need?" I ask. "A drink."

He nods. "I agree."

He slips into the alcohol aisle, picking up a bottle of bourbon and checking its label. All of a sudden, his head snaps up and his eyes widen in alarm. He holds up a finger in a gesture of silence and then taps his ear.

I strain my ears to hear what he's trying to tell me about. And that's when I hear it. So faint that I'm almost convinced I imagined it. It's a crunching sound, an annoying, repetitive sound. I follow Damon around the corner, taking care to keep my footsteps light.

And of all the things that I was expecting to see when I turned that corner, none of them were even remotely close to what was behind those beach umbrellas.

A packet of pork rinds in hand and his grin just short of manic, is another person.

♠︎ ♠︎ ♠︎

Here's the first chapter my loves!! I'm so so sorry for not updating for so long, I've just had so much on. I decided to make Athena a supernatural creature we haven't seen on the show before just because it's much more fun for me as a writer. If you're unfamiliar with Amazons, they're basically warriors with superhuman speed and strength and are really good with weapons (especially bows and arrows). If you've read The Mortal Instruments, think Shadowhunters minus the whole tattoo and angel blade thing and that all Amazons are women. Also, I know in this chapter I mentioned that Athena hated Enzo for something he did. That will all be explained in the next chapter. Also, the name in bold at the start of the chapter is whose point of view it's from which means that Kai will also get a few POVs of his own. Thank you so much for reading lovelies and I hoped you enjoyed.

Georgina xx