What's At Stake, Part Fifteen

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Damn, Elijah IS one BAMF! As for the end of the scene? Yeah, it's a little silly. Guilty as charged. But with so much sturm und drang in the last several sections, I felt like a little bit of levity was warranted. Plus, it's April Fool's Day. *puts on a helmet in preparation for the rotten tomatoes being thrown*

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Jeremy and Alaric pulled into the Salvatore driveway as Caroline was driving out, her assignment reviewed and accepted. Jeremy opened the door almost before the car stopped rolling, obviously eager for the upcoming lesson. Elijah suspected that enthusiasm would diminish quickly enough when the boy discovered just what he was in for.

Alaric popped the tailgate and exited the vehicle, motioning to Elijah as he went around to the back of the car. Elijah joined him there as he started removing cases, boxes, a modified shotgun, and a couple of crossbows from the back of the jeep. "Wooden bullets?" Elijah asked, examining the shotgun.

"Yup."

"Useless." He took one of the crossbows out. "Where are the projectiles for this?"

Alaric pulled out a bandolier of stakes. "These are notched on the bottom for quick loading and more controlled aim."

Damon sauntered out of the house, now that Alaric had arrived, and Caroline was no longer there for him to avoid. Interesting dynamic between those two. Elijah sent himself a mental memo to have a discussion with Damon about his ersatz 'daughter' at some point.

"He's got this cool wrist thing, too," Jeremy said, pulling a wearable lock and release mechanism from one of the boxes."

"The stakes won't do much to Klaus," Elijah decided, pulling one out and looking it over. "But they may provide a momentary distraction for someone else to slip in." He set the bow back in the car and opened one of the plastic cases. Inside it were six large, glass syringes that contained a clear liquid. "Vervain, I presume?"

Alaric nodded. "There are twelve more."

Elijah removed one from the padded case and examined it. The needle was of a large gauge, to facilitate a quick injection of the vervain inside. He pressed the plunger until a drop appeared at the point of the needle. Dabbing it off, Elijah rubbed the drop between thumb and forefinger, where it hissed briefly against his flesh. In light of what they were going to be doing, Elijah had eschewed his normal slacks, shirt and jacket combo in favor of loose-fitting knit pants and a plain black T-shirt, so with his arm already bared, he jammed the needle into it and pressed the plunger down hard.

"Holy shit! – " "Whoa! – " Alaric and Jeremy both yelled at the same time, and jumped back as the skin on Elijah's arm bubbled up and split, blood literally boiling out of the erupted flesh, hissing and steaming as it rolled down his arm and dripped off of his fingers.

"Damn!" Damon breathed, his eyebrows climbing his forehead as he watched with a sick sort of horrified fascination.

The only reaction Elijah showed was a slight wincing around the eyes as the vervain ran its course; the blood gradually simmered down, scores gouged in the skin from where it had run down his arm closing and healing before their eyes. The whole display was over in under ninety seconds. "Adequate as a distraction," he told them matter-of-factly. "I assume that was a tincture, not an essential oil?"

Alaric shook himself. "Ah, yeah. That..." He pulled another of the syringes out of the case, looking it over. "These usually work as a sedative for a vampire when injected. They don't... do that."

"I'm not a regular vampire."

"So that same thing would happen to Klaus if he took one of these?" Jeremy asked, looking fairly impressed.

"Yes. If you can obtain or produce some essential oil within the next week and swap this out, the stronger concentration will enhance the effect. The same for those vervain grenades, which I assume came from you." Elijah rooted around in the rest of the boxes. "What about a tranquilizer gun? One that would accommodate a large amount of liquid, like something you would use to bring down big game?"

Alaric shook his head. "No, but I could get one."

"You're thinking vervain tranquilizer darts?" Damon asked.

"Not exactly, but we'll get to that tomorrow. Pick one up, today if you can." Elijah left off going through the trunk and turned toward Jeremy. "Are you ready for your lesson?"

"Yeah, totally!"

"All right." He walked over to his car, stripping his shirt off as he went, and took a towel out of it, as well as a knife that was roughly the same size and weight as the dagger. Motioning to Jeremy to follow, he headed around the house, past the part of the landscape he had torn up, until he got to a smooth, open area. "I'm going to assume that you've never in fact stabbed someone?"

"Uh, no." Jeremy took the knife that Elijah held out to him.

"Well then, before we get fancy about doing this on the fly, I think you better know what that feels like." He tapped his chest. "Stab me. Aim for the heart."

"Wait, what? Just... stab you? Like right now?"

"Mm-hm."

His voice went up half an octave. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Damon and Alaric came around the house and leaned up against an old stone retaining wall, apparently settling in to watch the show.

"Okay..." Jeremy adjusted his grip on the hilt of the knife a couple of times, took a few steps toward Elijah, retreated. "While you're just standing there?"

"Yes, Jeremy." Elijah kept his hands at his sides, waiting.

He swallowed a couple of times, then blew out his breath and nodded. "Okay." The boy took a moment to find a good grip on the knife, then raised his hand up and advanced, at little more than a walk. When he reached Elijah, he swung the knife in a downward motion, toward the general chest vicinity.

The blade penetrated only a fraction of an inch, cutting a shallow slice as it deflected off of the sternum. Releasing his grip on it, Jeremy shook his arm and flexed his fist open and closed a couple of times. Elijah bent and retrieved the knife, holding it by the bloodied blade, handle toward Jeremy. "There is a lot of bone protecting the heart," he explained. "And the stabbing motion you see in slasher films is probably the least effective move when it comes to piercing it."

"Yeah," Jeremy agreed slowly, taking the knife. "It kinda made my hand vibrate."

"If you strike bone, it will. The harder you strike, the more force will reverberate up your arm. It's actually possible to break bones in your own hand and wrist with a misplaced thrust. At the very least it will numb the nerves for a few moments."

Elijah walked over near where Alaric and Damon stood and grabbed the towel, wiping the blood off of his chest with it. He carried it back with him and tossed it on the ground a few feet away. The gash underneath had healed, no trace of it visible. "What you want to do," he advised, walking up to the boy, "Is come in from the side or from underneath the rib cage. If you come from the side," he said, running a hand along his rib cage, "then you chance hitting the ribs. Those aren't as hard or as thick as the sternum, so if you strike with enough force you may be able to shatter the rib and still get your shot in. It's more likely, though, that the blade will deflect and miss the heart.

"If, however, you come up from underneath, you build slightly less momentum on the swing, but you go through muscle and stomach, not through bone, so your aim will stay truer." He stepped back. "Try it again. Harder this time; you half-assed the first swing."

Jeremy took a deep breath and rushed him faster this time, swinging in from the side. The shot knicked his rib and bounced off. Elijah wiped the blood off with the towel and straightened. "Again."

"How many tries to you think before he hurls?" Damon asked Alaric.

"Depends. I'm betting the first time he hits an organ."

Elijah glanced at the peanut gallery, one eyebrow raised, but didn't comment. He motioned to Jeremy. "Come."

Once more Jeremy came from the side; once more he opened skin across the ribs, but pierced nothing underneath. Elijah smiled as he wiped more blood off. "Not as easy as it looks, is it?"

Jeremy huffed out a breath. "No." He was sweating freely, though he hadn't really expended that much physical effort. All things considered, Elijah was glad. He'd have been perhaps more worried if the boy weren't a little dismayed at the idea of stabbing someone. But he needed to know if Jeremy had it in him. There was no point in putting him in the ritual circle if he couldn't pull the trigger when the time came.

"Again," he told him.

Looking more determined, Jeremy rushed him hard, coming from the side a third time. This shot hit true, slipping neatly between two ribs to pierce Elijah's lung. Jeremy quickly pulled the knife back out, triumph warring with apprehension as Elijah bent at the waist and coughed, spitting blood.

"Better," Elijah said roughly, coughing some more as he bent to retrieve the towel, wiping blood from his lips.

"He didn't toss 'em," Damon observed to Alaric.

"Too clean. Lung doesn't count. Wait."

Elijah tossed the towel back down. "Again."

"Seriously?" Jeremy asked. "I mean..."

"Jeremy. You won't kill me. You won't even incapacitate me, not even if you do hit my heart. Continue."

"But... doesn't it hurt?!"

"That's irrelevant. Try it again. Come in from under the ribcage this time. Center front, right here," he said, pointing toward the spot just underneath the ribs.

Alaric leaned toward Damon. "Dude. He is hardcore."

Damon nodded, wincing. "Yeah. Dayum."

Jeremy swallowed thickly. "All right." Again he rushed in, this time thrusting with an upward motion, just as Elijah had said. His aim was good; the knife slit his flesh open and tore through muscle, ripping into Elijah's stomach, the tip of the blade piercing his heart. Blood and other fluids gushed out of him in a torrent, spilling hot over Jeremy's arm, onto his clothes, splashing at his feet on the ground. Jeremy let go of the knife and staggered backward as Elijah went to his knees, getting only a few steps away before bending at the waist and retching.

"You called that one right," Damon commented.

Elijah slid the knife out of his chest with a grunt and pressed a hand to the wound to keep the organs inside as he waited for everything to knit itself together, watching Jeremy continue to retch long after his stomach had emptied itself. "You may want to bring him a towel as well," he ground out, catching Damon's eye and tilting his head toward Jeremy.

"Did he bring a change of clothes?" Damon asked Alaric, as he turned toward the house.

Alaric shook his head. "I don't think so."

Damon disappeared inside the house. Once the flesh had closed, Elijah climbed back upright and cleaned himself off, then headed over to Jeremy. He had moved away a bit and was sitting cross-legged on the ground, pale and a little green around the edges. "Are you all right?" he asked him quietly.

Jeremy glanced up at him. "You're asking me that?"

Elijah held his arms out, showing off a chest that was unmarred. "Good as new. I told you: you aren't going to hurt me." He reached down and gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze. "I wanted you to know what it was going to feel like if you succeeded, see how you would react. Better to find out now, under practice conditions, than when your own life is in danger. Do you want to go on?"

"I..." He swallowed, nodded. "Yeah. I guess."

Damon came back outside carrying a towel, a T-shirt, a bottle of water, and a bag of O-positive. The first three items he handed to Jeremy. The blood bag he held up questioningly. Elijah shook his head. "Not yet, at any rate." He let Jeremy clean up a little and take a few swallows of water, then led him back to the sparring ground.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Alaric asked. "He hasn't got a shot if he's approaching Klaus from the front. Wouldn't it make more sense for him to attack from behind?"

Elijah shot him a mocking smile. "Well, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Alaric smiled back, a little cocky. "But I do get an added difficulty bonus for going through the chair and still hitting the mark."

"So," Damon interjected, slinging an arm around Alaric's shoulders and turning him toward the house. "Why don't we go do some gun shopping?"

Elijah turned his attention back to Jeremy. "Why don't we ease off the bloodletting for a little bit and talk about movement?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." He looked noticeably relieved.

"Uh, Houston, we have a problem," Damon called.

Elijah turned to see what he referred to, and saw Jenna striding toward them, looking like she was ready to murder each and every one of them. "Jeremy, go get in the – Oh my God!!" She broke into a run when she saw the blood staining Jeremy's shirt.

"It's okay, I'm fine. It's not mine," he explained, or tried to, as she pulled his shirt up and searched frantically for a wound.

"What the hell happened?!"

"We were... um... uh..."

Having satisfied herself that Jeremy was neither bleeding out nor in imminent danger of death, she returned to looking furious. "Go get in the car."

"Aunt Jenna – "

"In the car! What part of 'stay away from the Salvatores' did you not understand?"

Alaric stepped toward them. "Jenna – "

Jenna whirled on him and held her hand up. "You do not speak to me. Ever. I don't want to see you, I don't want to know you, you are dead to me." She turned back to Jeremy and pointed in the direction from whence she had come. "Move!"

Seeing Jeremy looking ready to mutiny, Elijah stepped up. "We can continue this another time, Jeremy. You should probably go."

Jeremy looked back and forth between them for a couple of beats, then sulked off around the house. Damon pulled Alaric toward the house again. "Let's go, Romeo, before you step on your dick any harder."

Jenna stood her ground, facing Elijah straight on, glaring at him. She knows, he realized, with more regret than he cared to admit. I wish I had gotten a little more distracted, when there might have been a chance. "I take it you've been brought up to speed," he asked, once Damon and Alaric had disappeared into the house.

"About the whole ancient evil vampire thing? Yeah, I got the memo. I was a little late to the office, but I got it." He wondered if she were referring to Klaus or himself. Better not to ask, probably. She looked away, her expression bitter. "Stupid Aunt Jenna. Lie to her, she'll believe anything. Like walking into a knife. Because that's something people just do, right? Just don't tell her the truth, whatever you do."

"I suspect they were worried for you safety."

"Oh, right! Because I was so safe inviting every vampire – Jesus, there are vampires, for Christ sake! – in the tri-state area into my house. It was so safe letting my niece and nephew date vampires. It was so safe... No, you know what? I'm not even gonna do this. Just... you stay away from them. From all of us." She turned to leave.

"I'm sorry, Jenna. But I can't do that."

She whirled back around. "What did you say?"

"I said I can't leave them alone. I need her. Elena."

Jenna stepped in, narrowing the gap between them to mere inches, and poked a finger into his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are all of you vampires perverts?! She's seventeen years old. She's still in high school, for crying out loud. Go order yourself someone who's not on the kiddie menu!"

"Not for that, Jenna. God." He turned away from her to give himself a little bit of space, and saw the T-shirt that Damon had brought out for Jeremy still sitting on the wall. He grabbed it and pulled it on. Only to look down and realize that it had words on it: My idea involves midgets and porn.

He stared at the shirt for a moment. Closed his eyes. Ran his hand over his face and sighed. "Well... hell."

"Then what do you mean you... Okay, it is really hard to take you seriously as an ancient evil vampire in that T-shirt."

Elijah met her eyes, feeling... Regretful? Sorry? Annoyed? Ridiculous? Human? All of the above? His sense of humor kicked in, pulling one corner of his mouth up into a grin. Mad as she was, Jenna's lips twitched in answer at the absurdity of the situation. "If you make me laugh right now, I will stake you," she threatened.

"I'm sorry," he said, sobering. "It really isn't a laughing matter. But I do need Elena. She's the doppelganger, Jenna. I need her to lure THE 'ancient evil vampire' in. It's the only way to kill him. I won't let her be sacrificed – you have to trust me on that – but I need her for this to succeed."

Jenna looked at him blankly, all traces of humor fleeing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

So, apparently her education hadn't been complete. Elijah sighed deeply. "They didn't tell you everything, did they?"