Nothing was killing these vampires.
Damon grabbed one by the neck and sank a stake into his heart. His opponent fell, but instead of dying like he should have, he simply pulled the stake out of his chest, scrambled back to his feet, and lunged toward Damon again. What the-? Before the strange vampire could get close enough, Katherine grabbed him from behind and snapped his neck.
The vampire fell like a stone, but by now Damon knew that was only temporary. Breaking their necks kept these vampires down for longer than anything else they'd tried, but it wasn't permanent. Damon knew from experience that they had about half an hour before that vampire would be up and fighting again.
He glared down at the circle of temporarily incapacitated vampires around him. "What the hell?" he growled, kicking at one of them. "Stakes don't kill them, breaking their necks doesn't kill them, it's impossible to pull their heads off or their hearts out, they can walk in the daylight, and apparently they're not affected by holy ground." He gestured around at the baroque-style Russian Orthodox church they were standing in. Some older vampires still refused to go on holy ground, and it had been worth trying. "How are we supposed to kill them?"
"We'll find something," Katherine said grimly. "Let's search the bodies while they're out." She looked tired, Damon thought, her beautiful lapis lazuli eyes sunken and a slight grayish pallor to her skin. She wasn't getting enough to eat, he knew, and she was still letting him feed from her.
Damon used the toe of his extremely expensive-but now, to his dismay, badly scuffed-boot to flip over the vampire closest to him, an East Asian man with short dark hair. "Nothing worthwhile here," he said, going through the fallen vampire's pockets. "A few coins."
"This one's pockets are empty," Katherine reported, bending over another at the other end of the room.
"This one looks like a peasant." Damon glared haughtily down at the next unconscious vampire, who was dressed in ripped jeans and a stained T-shirt. "Terrible taste in clothes." Starving and running for his life made him more irritable than usual.
"We were more discerning when we turned people in the old days." Katherine sniffed. "You and Stefan were the only ones I made for centuries."
"You made up for it these last few years, though, didn't you?" Damon asked absently. Was there something in the peasant's pocket? His fingers closed on a narrow rectangle of cardboard, and he pulled it out. A business card. There was no phone number or address or any information at all, really. Just a company name-Lifetime Solutions-and a stylized black-and-white figure eight. "An infinity symbol?" he asked aloud. "Katherine, this-"
As he looked up, there was a sudden flurry of movement, and Katherine made a high, choking sound, her eyes startled wide open. There was a wooden stake buried in her chest.
One of the vampires who should have still been unconscious had risen up behind her, utterly silent, and attacked Katherine from behind. Katherine stared at Damon for one long moment, her lips parted in surprise. And then she fell.
Horrified, Damon flew across the room quickly enough to catch her before she hit the floor. Cradling Katherine carefully in the crook of one arm, he snapped the other vampire's neck again before it could stake him, too. The strange vampire hit the floor with a thud as Damon turned his full attention to Katherine.
"No, darling, stay with me," he begged, the shock hitting him. He pulled the stake from her chest, but he could tell already that it was too late. Her beautiful blue eyes were glazing over as he watched. Time seemed to stretch out as Damon thought of the long roads they'd traveled together, him and Katherine. From his days as a human, when he'd loved her with all his heart, to now, when they had become companions, even friends. Sharp, spiteful, sometimes charming, never boring. His Katherine.
"Damon," she breathed, just a whisper of sound. His chest tight with sorrow, Damon watched as the life in Katherine's eyes faded, and she went heavy and still in his arms.
He held her close for a moment, then slowly lowered her to the ground, stroking her cheek in silent apology. His eyes felt hot. He'd loved Katherine, and then he'd hated her. He'd died and killed for her, and he'd watched her die once before. Lately, she'd been his friend. His mind kept coming back to that. He didn't have many friends. He never had. "I'm sorry, Katherine," he whispered to her.
He kneeled, gazing down at her body, which looked painfully small and still on the floor of the church. She'd always loomed so large to him, his maker, his first love. "They'll pay for this," he swore solemnly. "I'll find a way to kill them. I promise."
One of the vampires on the floor stirred, and Damon slammed the stake in his hand through its chest. It wouldn't kill the vampire, Damon knew that, but it would keep him down a few minutes longer. They were recovering faster than they had the first few times he and Katherine had fought them. Wasn't that a wonderful thing to realize, he thought bitterly, now that he was alone.
Alone. Damon thought briefly of his brother, and anger whipped through him. Damon had asked Stefan to come. If he had been there, they wouldn't have been quite so outnumbered, and maybe Katherine wouldn't have died.
It was time to go. Damon got to his feet and scooped Katherine up in his arms, cupping her head carefully with one hand to hold it against his shoulder, her hair soft under his fingers. She was as light as she'd been the first day he'd met her, when he had lifted her down from her father's carriage. She'd looked shyly at him through dark lashes, and his human heart had sped up, filled with emotions he'd barely understood. They'd been such children then.
He was going to take these strange, almost unkillable vampires down, no matter what. As Damon pushed his way through the front double doors, his footsteps echoing in the vast empty space of the church, he felt for the business card in his pocket. Lifetime Solutions. It was as good a place as any to start.
#TVD11FarewellKatherine
On the apartment's balcony, Stefan closed his eyes for a moment. It was almost morning, and he was tired. Solomon was dead now, and Elena was safe. He wondered how long it would take for that to really hit him, for the gaping pit of anxiety he'd been carrying inside to heal.
A cool dawn breeze brushed his cheek, and just for a moment, it felt almost like a hand. It carried a fresh scent with it, the smell of damask roses. Stefan frowned.
Back at the beginning, when he'd been alive, Katherine had smelled like that. She used to bathe in rose water. It had been a long time since he'd smelled that scent-it wasn't the kind of perfume modern women wore.
Good-bye, Stefan. He didn't know if he really heard the words, but suddenly they were there in his mind. Katherine's voice. In a flash he knew what had happened, and his chest tightened with sorrow. Katherine was dead. She'd been his enemy those last times he'd seen her, but once upon a time he'd loved her.
He pushed the thought away. I'm just tired and morbid, he told himself, but something in him felt that it was true. He needed to call Damon to make sure he was okay.
Entering the living room from the balcony, Stefan almost ran into Jasmine, who flinched backward. "Sorry, oh, I'm sorry," she said, breathlessly.
Stefan stepped deliberately away from her, his hands held up in what he hoped was a nonthreatening gesture. "No, excuse me," he said. Earlier, Matt had made Stefan show Jasmine his fangs and his speed to convince her that he was a vampire, and she'd coped with it all surprisingly well. Matt followed Jasmine in from the bedroom and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Elena, Jack, and Meredith, who had been talking quietly on the sofa, jumped to their feet at Jasmine's arrival.
"How is she?" Elena asked.
Jasmine smiled wearily. "Trinity's stable," she said. "I set her up with some saline to keep her from getting dehydrated, and the tranexamic acid helped with the bleeding. I'm going to leave some antibiotics with you that she should take twice a day for the next week and a half, but I think she'll be fine." Her eyes flittered hesitantly back to Stefan. "The-what you gave her, the blood, really helped her heal. I don't think she would be alive without it."
Jack clapped Stefan on the shoulder, and Elena threw her arms around Jasmine. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much." Matt grinned and hugged Jasmine, too, and then Meredith piled on, all four of them laughing now, loose with relief.
Stefan smiled, keeping his distance, but a great wave of gratitude washed over him. If Trinity lived, if she recovered, then they would have come through this amazingly unscathed.
After a little more talk, all of them promising to help with Trinity's care, make sure she stayed in bed and took all her medications, Matt and Jasmine headed for the door. "Jasmine's working the emergency room again tomorrow," Matt said. "She'd better catch all the sleep she can. Meredith, do you want a ride?"
Meredith nodded. "Just let me grab my stuff," she said. "It's in the bedroom." She put a finger to her lips. "I won't wake her, I promise. Hunters can be as quiet as cats."
Jasmine rested her head on Matt's shoulder as they waited. Jack headed for the kitchen. "I'm going to tell the others," he threw back over his shoulder.
Alone for a moment, Stefan took the opportunity to pull Elena aside, to tell her about the strange moment out on the balcony. "When I was outside-" he began.
But before he could continue, feet pounded down the hall and Meredith burst back into the living room, her olive skin unnaturally pale. "Trinity's gone!"
